humour, for he was getting cold, and was beginning to be a little
doubtful of their whereabouts.
They had now sailed for about two hours, and they ought to be getting
near land; it was very thick, however, and the snow was coming on faster
than ever. The sea was getting much heavier, and from time to time
Ceolwulf had the greatest difficulty in keeping his oar in the notch.
Wulfstan had coiled himself up, and had now gone to sleep. The others
were mostly asleep or dozing, but Malachi and Athelhune felt the
uncertainty of their position, and shared Ceolwulf's anxiety.
"We ought to be near land now, ought we not?" asked Malachi.
"We are not far off, I'm thinking," said Ceolwulf. "Lend me a hand with
this oar, Athelhune," he added, as a more than ordinarily large wave
rose up astern, and sent the boat staggering along with a wild lurch and
headlong plunge that took the wind out of the sail, and called for all
Ceolwulf's knowledge of steering. He and Athelhune, however, managed it
cleverly, and the sea passed under the boat with a seething rush,
raising her head high in air.
"The difficulty is in this snow, we can't see breakers ahead," grumbled
Ceolwulf. "Go forward, Malachi, and keep a sharp look-out. Sing out
the moment thou seest any land."
Malachi did as he was told, and peered anxiously into the grey veil
ahead; but he could see nothing, only tumbling waves rising and falling,
leaping up like grey shadows, and disappearing in the misty gloom.
Suddenly Malachi felt the boat give a violent lurch, followed by a dizzy
rush, and he found himself in water nearly up to his waist. What was
it? What had happened?
The oar had broken, and the boat had come round into the trough of the
sea, and was in imminent danger of being rolled over or swamped.
All were now aroused, for most were lying in the water, which half
filled the boat. However, Ceolwulf had seized another oar the moment
the catastrophe happened, and with great quickness had brought her round
to the course she was running, and then directed the men to bail the
water out.
Once more they rushed wildly on; while poor brother Malachi, murmuring
"_De profundis clamavi ad te, Domine_," drenched to the skin, gazed out
into the darkness.
For the next quarter of an hour or so nothing disturbed the monotony of
the rushing waters, the creaking mast, the occasionally flapping sail as
the boat sank into the trough of the sea, or the whistling of the wind;
everything in the boat was getting covered with a white pall, and the
discomfort of all was great.
Suddenly Malachi shouted out:
"Land! land! right ahead. I see----"
But his words were lost in a wild crash, that hurled Ceolwulf and
Athelhune into the bottom of the boat, and pitched poor Malachi head
over heels overboard.
*CHAPTER VIII.*
*NOTHING VENTURE, NOTHING HAVE.*
The shock that produced the catastrophe which hurled brother Malachi
overboard was caused by the boat striking on a reef of rocks, which lay
some little distance out from the land, and, in the blinding snow and
darkness, was utterly invisible, although as each wave receded the rocks
were uncovered for a few minutes, only to be washed from end to end as a
new wave dashed over them.
The boat was lifted by the first wave right on to the top of the reef,
and consequently when the reflux of the wave took place, she fell over
on her side, and remained exactly as she would have done on a hard
beach. The next wave, however, broke right into her, and filled her
from end to end, besides smashing the mast and knocking a hole in her as
she came down with a tremendous thump. All the men had now jumped
overboard, and, under the direction of Ceolwulf, who took in the
situation at a glance, scrambled over the rocks before another large
wave came, and found on the other side that there was a shallow, sandy
pool, where the water came up to their waists, but where they were
protected from the extreme violence of the waves by the reef of rocks
outside. Ceolwulf had taken the precaution to keep hold of the rope, or
warp, which was used for mooring the boat, and, shouting to the others
to hold on to this, he watched for another large wave, then, bidding the
others haul altogether, they dragged the boat over the rocks into the
part where they were, and where they would be able to get the cargo out
of the boat before she should break up, which she must inevitably do if
the tide were rising.
In the darkness and confusion nobody had thought of seeing whether
anyone was missing, but now that all immediate danger was over Ceolwulf
began to think he had not seen Malachi.
"Malachi! Malachi!" he shouted, "where art thou?"
A very feeble answer came from behind them:
"Here, Ceolwulf, here."
"Art hurt, man?"
"_Miserere mei_, but I have no whole soundness in my body, all my bones
are out of joint, and the floods have gone over my soul."
"Where art thou?"
"I am on dry ground--at least, if that may be called dry which is all
wet with snow--but where I am, I know not."
"He's all right," said Ceolwulf, who was holding the rope with one hand
and Wulfstan with the other. "He's got ashore, and the sooner we get
there the better, it is only a little way off."
"Hadn't we better get our arms out of the boat first? she may be smashed
all to pieces before we can get back to her again," suggested Athelhune.
"Right, quite right," answered Ceolwulf. "Let every one take as much as
he can carry ashore with him, and follow me." So saying, taking
Wulfstan's hand, he waded ashore to where the voice of brother Malachi
guided them. The others followed, carrying the armour, shields, spears,
and other weapons.
When they were all ashore, they found they were on a steep shingle beach
with a low cliff behind, as far as they could make out in the darkness.
Malachi was seated, shivering with cold, on a boulder of rock, and
Wulfstan ran up to him, and slapping him on the back, said:
"Hullo! brother Malachi, I am very glad thou art not drowned."
"Oh, don't do that! I am very glad too, but don't touch me, I ache all
over. Oh!" groaned brother Malachi, shivering, so that his teeth
chattered in his head.
"Well, run about then, and thou wilt soon get warm."
But the poor monk was too cold and dispirited for that, and only sat
still and shivered. It certainly was a dreary outlook, as far as
anything could be seen. A group of half-drowned men, a patch of
snow-covered beach, the dim outline of foaming waves, and all else
indistinguishable blackness.
"How much longer have we got to wait for daylight thinkest thou?" asked
Athelhune.
"It is not midnight yet," answered Ceolwulf gloomily.
"Dost thou know where we are?"
"On the Foreland, I doubt, and we've narrowly missed going out to sea
down the channel; but I can't rightly say where we are until I have gone
a bit further in-shore."
"We had better all of us get into some shelter if we can. We can't pull
the boat up, and turn her over and get under her, can we?"
"No, we haven't got strength enough for that. We had better get up this
cliff, and go inland; we shan't find the wind so keen then."
They all, therefore, clambered over the shingle, and, scrambling up the
low cliff, found themselves among a thick growth of brushwood.
"Now, the best thing we can do, boys, is to cut down enough of this to
make a clearing for us to lie down in, and we can pile the cut bushes up
to the windward of us, and bring ashore the sail and the skins, and such
stores as we've got, and make ourselves as snug as we can until daylight
breaks. Here, Athelhune, wilt thou set four of them to work with their
axes, while I and the others go back to the old boat who has made her
last journey, I fear."
This seemed to all a reasonable proposition, and Athelhune began at once
to set the men to work. Although it was very dark, yet, as they had
become accustomed to it, it was not really so difficult as it would seem
to work in the dimness.
"Hullo! who art thou?" called out Ceolwulf, as he fell over the
prostrate body of a man. "Why, it's brother Malachi I do believe, and
he's gone to sleep; but that won't do. Here, Wulfstan, come and lead
him up the shore. Make him walk; if he goes to sleep he will never wake
up again. Hi! Malachi, wake up!"
But Malachi was sound asleep, worn out with cold and wretchedness, and
it took a great deal of shaking to rouse him up. When at last he was
made to understand where he was, he had scarcely any strength left to
walk, and it was with extreme difficulty Wulfstan could get him up the
beach and on the top of the cliff; and then Athelhune set him to work to
carry the bushes, which the others cut, to the windward side of the
clearing they were making.
Ceolwulf and the others now returned with the other things, and they
very soon made a tolerable shelter from the wind and snow by stretching
the sail and other coverings over stakes driven in the ground, and kept
up by the masts and oars, which were rested in the forked end of the
upright stakes.
"I suppose we can do nothing more for the old boat?" said Athelhune.
"No, she will have to take her chance. I don't think much will be left
of her to-morrow; the tide is rising fast, and the wind doesn't show any
signs of going down. It's true she will be sheltered a little by the
reef outside, but not much, for there will be a good depth of water over
it at high tide."
"Dost thou know where we are now?"
"It's where I thought. We are at the end of the Foreland, and have had
a near chance of going out to sea," said Ceolwulf.
"Are there any houses near here?"
"No, not nearer than our old home at the head of the haven; but that was
burnt down the night we escaped in the boat--at least so it seemed to me
as I looked back."
"Canst count on any one helping us if we show ourselves by daylight?"
"Aye, I can count on some if they've not been killed; but I shall have
to go to work cautiously, as we have got no boat now to go back with,
unless we can capture another one."
"Well, the best thing we can do will be to lie as snug here as we can,
and close together, to keep ourselves warm."
As they were now all fairly well warmed by their exertions in making the
tent and clearing the ground, there was not much risk to such hardy men
from going to rest, and they all lay down under the shelter of the sails
and skins, and were soon sound asleep.
The first to wake next morning was Wulfstan, who got up at once, and
without waking any one, or at least disturbing them, he went out on to
the cliff to see what could be seen of the place where they were
wrecked.
The sun had only just risen. It had ceased snowing for some time
apparently, for all signs of it had disappeared, and a glorious sight
met his eyes. At his feet lay the old boat, lying broadside on to the
steep shingle beach, and a large hole in her showed where she had struck
the night before. She did not seem to have been any more damaged, and
doubtless the reef, which was just beginning to show as the tide
receded, had protected her; for the tides were then at neap or nearly
so, and consequently the sea had not risen so high or had as much force
as it would have had if the spring tides had then prevailed. Beyond the
boat the white breakers were tumbling in creamy foam, tinged with the
red and gold of the rising sun, which cast a gleaming path of light from
the horizon to the feet of Wulfstan; on each side of this path of glory,
the sea was deep greeny-grey, ending in a blue and misty purple under
the rising sun; above the transparent depths of the exquisite
primrose-coloured sky a few fleecy golden clouds floated in the
fathomless blue of the heavens, while a gentle but rather keen breeze
brought health and vigour to the lungs of the hardy boy. Far on the
horizon, towards the north-east, a distant line of grey hills showed
where the great Andredesweald stretched away in the distance.
Sniffing the fresh sea air, the boy ran along the beach, and, turning a
point a little way to the south-west of him, came upon a long reef of
rocks running far out into the sea, and over which the waves were
rushing and tumbling in wild confusion as the tide ebbed into the main
channel stream.
Out upon these rocks a solitary heron was looking for his morning meal
with outstretched neck, while flocks of oxy birds rose in flickering
flight, or settled, with shrill cry, on the luxuriant sea-weed that
clothed the rocks with sheeny growth.
As Wulfstan went further on, following the shore as it trended towards
the west, a great wall of chalk rose suddenly above the low gravel
cliff, and shut out all further view in that direction. Above, the
magnificent chalk cliff, that went in sheer descent from a height of
some three hundred feet into the blue sea below, crowned with a smooth
slope of brown turf, rose in gradual swell to sink again in steeper
descent towards the north, while its precipitous sides sloped abruptly
to the low ground of the foreland.
"Oh! there's our dear old Binbrigge dune!"[1] cried Wulfstan, who had
many a time ridden over those grassy slopes, and been lowered over the
cliff to collect the sea-fowls' eggs that were laid in otherwise
unapproachable nooks and ledges of the precipice.
[1] Bembridge Down.
The boy had forgotten all the past weeks. He seemed once more at home,
and wandered on, forgetful of the shipwreck, the sick brother left on
the mainland, and his own burnt home.
He was roused from his dreams by a rustling in the long coarse grass
that fringed the low cliff, and directly afterwards a boy's voice called
out, in amazement:
"Why, it's the young eorl Wulfstan, I do believe!"
"What, Stuff, is it thou?" cried Wulfstan joyfully, as a thick-set,
sturdy, shock-headed young Wihtwara of about Wulfstan's age emerged from
the cover of the tall grass.
"Why, where hast thou been, Wulfstan, all this while?"
"Aha, Stuff, I've been a voyage, and I have killed a wild boar, and thou
canst not think how well I can fish. Brother Malachi has taught me how
to make net, and what's the right sort of bait for pout, and bass, and
lots of things."
"Oh, Wulfstan, thou dost not say so! And where's AEdric and old Biggun?
But thou hadst better not be seen, or thou wilt be killed, that thou
wilt."
"What happened that night when Arwald attacked us?"
"What, don't thee know? That was a fine night, that was. How it did
burn just! and weren't there a many head broke! Oh, Loki!"[1]
[1] LOKI.--The Scandinavian God of Mischief. He caused the death of
Baldur the Beautiful.
"Who was killed? What became of father?"
"Why, who's that a-standing there on the point yonder? I do believe its
old Biggun! and he's calling thee. Thou hadst better run, Wulfstan."
"Thou must come too, and tell us all that has happened."
"I don't know about that," said Stuff, scratching his head, and looking
dubiously in the direction of Ceolwulf, of whom he seemed to stand
considerably in awe.
"Thou hadst better, Stuff, for if thou dost not I will make thee."
"Thou make me! I'd like to see thee do it. Why, I've----"
But before he could say any more Wulfstan had seized him round both
arms, and putting his foot behind Stuff's heels, laid him on the ground
in an instant, falling on him at the same time, so that all poor Stuff's
breath was knocked out of his body with the concussion.
"There, I told thee thou hadst better do what I bid thee."
But Stuff struggled manfully on the ground, and did all he could to
shake or roll Wulfstan off him.
"Ah, wouldst thou? If thou dost not lie still and listen to what I am
going to say, I will pommel thee black and blue. Dost thou not know I
am thine eorl now? or at least I am till AEdric comes back."
But Stuff only struggled all the harder, for he was a sturdy young
Wihtwara and very obstinate, until at last Wulfstan had to put his
threat into execution, and began to beat the breath out of his unruly
antagonist.
The contest was speedily ended by the arrival of Ceolwulf, who, seeing
the struggle, and not understanding the cause, strode hastily up to the
spot, fearing lest some harm should happen to his young lord.
"Hullo! what's all this about?" he exclaimed, as he saw that he need not
have been uneasy about Wulfstan, who was evidently master of the
situation. "Whom have we got here?"
"It's Stuff, Biggun; he didn't want to come to thee, and I said I would
make him. He doesn't understand that I'm his master now."
"Do thou leave him to me, Wulfstan; it isn't for the like of thee to be
rolling on the ground with such as he. He won't get away now, I'll make
sure."
Wulfstan accordingly allowed the youngster to rise, and Ceolwulf said
sharply to him:
"Down on thy knees, and beg the young eorl's pardon for having dared to
be insolent to him, or it will be the worse for thee."
Stuff did as he was bid sullenly enough, saying as he did so:
"He didn't know as how he was his eorl now, there had been such
changes."
"Don't talk to me of changes," said Ceolwulf. "He who has once been born
a thrall is always a thrall to his eorl until he frees him, and that
thou wilt not be in a hurry."
"Never mind, Stuff, thou shalt not be hurt, if thou art only wise and
behavest properly. Of course, thou didst not know, that's all."
"Now come along with us, we can't be standing here where anyone might
see us. Do thou come and tell us all that's been going on since we've
been away," said Ceolwulf.
The three went off in the direction of the wreck, where, on their
arrival, they found all astir.
"Is there any water about here fit to drink, Ceolwulf, thinkest thou?"
called Athelhune.
"Aye, that there is, and very good water, too," cried Wulfstan. "Come
with me, Beornwulf, and I will show thee where the spring is."
"Go with the young eorl, Beornwulf and Osborn, and take a bucket or two
if thou hast them," said Athelhune.
They very soon found the spring, which was not far off along the shore,
but the opposite way to that which Wulfstan had taken before. Amid some
dead seaweed, blown up above high water mark, and a few large stones
covered with moss and lichen and sheltering a few ferns, a clear spring
of water welled up in unpolluted purity, and, trickling over the stones,
lost itself immediately in the loose shingle of the shore. A spring that
might elsewhere have been the source of some large stream, but here, cut
off at once in its earliest infancy, joined the sea without longer life
than a few short feet of furrowed stone--a fitting subject for a
moralist or divine; but, as neither Wulfstan nor his companions were in
the least degree disposed to either character, they drew as much water
as they wanted, and returned to the others.
Ceolwulf had elicited from the reluctant Stuff a short account of all
that had taken place after the destruction of AElfhere's houses and
farm-buildings. It appeared that Arwald had left a trusty adherent of
his to look after the district, and to set the thralls to work to pursue
their usual avocations as if nothing had happened, only all the produce
was to be considered as Arwald's property.
Ceolwulf could not find out anything about his master, AElfhere. As far
as he could make out, nobody had found his body after he was seen to
fall in the midst of the fight; but Stuff said everyone declared he must
be dead, as he was seen to receive a terrible wound in the head from an
axe, and "there was them as said Arwald had carried off his body."
When asked whether he thought the people were discontented with the man
whom Arwald had placed over the thralls, Stuff said he thought nobody
liked him; but they were all afraid of him, as there were some fighting
men left to support his authority.
"How many are there?"
"I don't rightly know the proper number, but I think there are not more
than eight or nine."
"Dost thou think, if we drove them off or killed them, the rest of the
people would fight for their young eorls, AEdric and Wulfstan?"
"Aye, that I do. Thou knowest us all well enough for that, Biggun."
This answer being considered satisfactory, it was agreed it would be
best to keep the boy with them all day. That they would try and get the
boat up out of the reach of the sea and cover her up as well as possible
in order to prevent her being seen by anyone; that then, at nightfall,
they would march, under Ceolwulf's guidance, to a knoll, covered with
thick brushwood and trees; that they would make their head-quarters at
this place; and if Ceolwulf, after seeing a few of the old servants and
herdsmen of AElfhere should judge that they really could offer an
effectual resistance to an attack from Arwald, that they would then make
an onslaught on the ruined house and farm buildings, and drive off the
party Arwald had placed there, and that they would then send over to
Caedwalla and ask him to come to take possession of the island.
In accordance with this determination, immediately after their simple
meal the men all set to work, under Ceolwulf's instructions, to pull the
boat up the beach, a matter very much more easy to accomplish now that
they had taken everything out of her, and could see what they were
about. They cut down a couple of straight and slight young ash trees,
and dividing them into three lengths each, they soon had the old boat up
high and dry under the low cliff, hauling her up on the ash rollers.
Ceolwulf then made a careful examination of the hole in the boat, and
was pleased to see that it would not take very much time to put a couple
of new planks in, and she would then be capable of at least making one
voyage across to Boseham in fine weather.
Having accomplished this part of their work, the men were set to clean
the armour and weapons, and put what food was left in the buckets, and
get all ready for their expedition a little before nightfall.
Brother Malachi had quite recovered his usual spirits, and had become an
object of much interest and astonishment to Stuff, who had never seen a
man like him. He longed to ask Wulfstan all about him, but was rather
shy of talking to the young eorl now that he had so clearly established
his rightful position, and he was also struck by the respect the others
paid him.
The day passed away without particular incident. About an hour before
dusk Ceolwulf directed all to fall in, and, telling Stuff to keep near
him, led the way to their intended stronghold. Their route lay through
dense brushwood, but Ceolwulf soon struck into a narrow track where
walking was more easy, but in which they were obliged to proceed in
single file.
After going in this way about a mile, they descended a very steep
declivity, and came out upon an open meadow. And then the strangers
perceived that they were on the border of a large land-locked piece of
water, to which, standing where they were, they could see no inlet from
the sea.
The tide was up, and the expanse of silver water stretching up to the
foot of a high down at its western end, and washing a steeply-wooded
shore opposite, had all the appearance of a magnificent lake or splendid
harbour, offering a very different scene to what it would be in five
hours' time, when, instead of a silver mirror in which the hills and
woods and autumn sky were pictured, a tiny stream would sluggishly
meander between brown slush and slimy mud.
Crossing this meadow, the party plunged once more into the dense wood,
and ascending a slight rise, dipped again to the level of the sea; but
the wood was so thick they could see nothing on either hand or ahead,
and had still to walk in single file.
Again the path rose steeply in front, and they seemed to be mounting a
considerable acclivity. Climbing higher and higher, Ceolwulf left the
beaten track, and turned aside through the low growth of oak and ash
that seemed unable to attain to any size, and were gnarled and twisted
into all sorts of fantastic shapes.
Scrambling over some moss-covered boulders, Ceolwulf stopped, and said:
"Here, men, we will make our camp; there is a spring down the steep
slope on that side, and by felling a few trees, we can make a very fair
shelter for ourselves, as well as a stockade against any sudden attack."
The place, certainly, was well chosen. There was a small open space on
the top of the hill, but no view could be obtained from this as the
trees grew thick all round. It was, however, sufficiently obvious that
the sides of the hill were very steep, and a handful of men could hold
their own for some time, especially with the aid of a few fallen trees
to form a breastwork.