Capt. W. "Well, I have been enquiring of Mr. '--', your Chief Factor
here; and he tells me that your brother, Mr. Obed Lanyon, was
with Cook and Vancouver, and knows the coast from Cape
Flattery northwards and round by the Aleutians like the palm
of his hand. Now it happens I have business up there among
the Russian settlements--part trade, part exploring--
I needn't say more, for the United States' Government didn't
send me to tell secrets. A man like your brother would be
money in my pocket all the way: and at the end of the job I
would undertake to deliver him and his wife safely at any
American port within reason, with money to take them home
like princes, and a trifle over. I'm a square man: and if I
weren't, you couldn't be in a worse fix than you are."
"I think," said I, "if you do not mind waiting a few minutes, we will
trade, Mr. Wills." With this I went on deck and hoisted my private
signal for Mr. '--', who came alongside in less than half-an-hour.
He was a practical man, and at once saw the prospect of escape held out
by the American's offer, ridiculous as it may seem to those who know
little of Chinese law and custom. Indeed one of the magistrates had
frankly appealed to Mr. '--' to hire a substitute for Margit among the
negro women at Macao: and our friend engaged that by spending a few
hundred additional dollars he would get the Dutchwoman's corpse accepted
as full discharge for the offence, provided that Mrs. Lanyon could be
smuggled out of the Canton River. This Captain Wills readily undertook
to do. Mr. '--' then suggested that his negotiations would be made
easier by the disappearance of all implicated in the scuffle--i.e.
Mr. Tomlinson and myself, as well as Obed and Mrs. Lanyon.
Mr. Findlater, my first officer, could take command and work the
_Macartney_ home; and Mr. '--' engaged to make our case right with the
Company, though at the cost to me of the indirect profits which a
commander looks to make from a homeward voyage. We discussed this for
some while, and in the end agreed to it. Captain Wills, being
short-handed, was even generous enough to offer me a small sum for my
services in assisting him with the navigation.
To be short, all was arranged. That same night a boat from the
_Independence_ brought the famous cask of Geneva alongside, and took us
four English people in exchange, and by 4 a.m. we were under weigh and
heading for the open sea.
The _Independence_ steered through the Formosa Strait, across the
Eastern Sea, and on the 25th of July entered the bay of Nangasaki under
Russian colours, which she thenceforth continued to fly. Like most
European captains, our American kept his straightforward dealing for
certain races only. He produced his trading articles: but the Japanese
wanted nothing, and demanded to know what brought him there?
He answered that he wanted water and fresh provisions (we had a plenty
of both), and to prove it, ordered several butts to be started, and
brought empty on deck. This was enough for the hospitable Japanese; who
next day brought supplies of hogs, fish, and vegetables, for which they
asked no payment; besides four dozen large tubs of water, which Captain
Wills emptied on deck, stopping the scuppers, and removing the plugs at
night so that the water might not be perceived. On the fourth day we
got under weigh again; our deluded friends even going so far in kindness
as to tow us out of the bay, and parting from us with cheers and much
waving of hats and hands.
From Nangasaki we made for Kamschatka and thence for the Aleutian
Islands and the American coast. On his way Captain Wills sedulously
prosecuted the business for which his vessel had been chartered by the
Russian American Company, and distributed his cargo of nankeens, silks,
tea, sugar, etc., among the Russian settlements dotted among the
islands. So far, Obed's services had been in little request: and I,
too, had leisure to observe and wonder at a certain remarkable change
that had come over Margit--as it seemed to me, from the time of our
entering the parallels above 50 degrees. Her usual calm bearing had
given way to succeeding fits of restlessness and apathy. At times she
would sit dejected for hours together; at others, she would walk the
deck without pause, her cloak thrown open to the cold wind, which she
seemed to drink like a thirsty creature. One day, the vessel being
awkwardly becalmed within a mile of an ugly-looking iceberg, her
excitement rose to something like a frenzy. The weather being hazy,
Obed--who was busy with the captain taking soundings--asked me to run
below for his glass; and there I almost fell Over Margit, who lay on the
cabin floor, her whole body writhing, her hands tightly clenched upon a
handkerchief which she had torn to rags. Of course I asked what ailed
her, and offered to bring help, medicines, anything. She rose in
confusion. 'It was a pain at the heart,' she said; 'nothing more: it
would quickly pass: the cold brought it on, she thought. I would oblige
her by going away; and, above all, by saying nothing to Obed.'
To what extent Obed remarked the change, I cannot tell. He now began to
be pretty busy with his soundings and sketches of the coast. We had
left Kadjak on the 9th of October, and on the last day of the month were
cruising off Queen Charlotte's Island. So far, considering the lateness
of the season, we had enjoyed remarkable weather. The natives, too,
were friendly beyond expectation. The sight of our vessel brought them
off in great numbers and at times we had as many as a hundred canoes
about us, the largest holding perhaps a dozen, some armed with muskets,
but the most with lances and forks pointed with stags' antlers and a
kind of scimetar made of whale-rib. We suffered but two or three
persons to board us at a time, and traded with them for dried fish,
sea-otters, beaver and reindeer skins. A string of glass beads (blue
was the favourite colour) would buy a salmon of 20 pounds weight: but
for beaver they would take nothing less valuable than China stuffs.
Obed had warned us against the natives of Queen Charlotte's Island, as
likely to prove stronger and less friendly than any we had encountered.
We felt a reasonable anxiety, therefore, when, almost as soon as we
sighted the island, a thick fog came up with some wind and a heavy swell
from the south and hid the coast completely. This lasted until November
2nd at daybreak, when the weather lifted and we saw land at about eight
miles' distance. Unhappily the wind dropped at once, while the motion
of the waves continued, and our sails being useless, we found ourselves
drifting rapidly shoreward with the set of the current. In the height
of our dismay, however, a breeze sprang up from the north-west, and we
worked off.
But we were over-hasty in blessing this breeze, which before midnight
grew to a violent gale: and for two days we drove before it in much
distress--Obed and I taking turns at conning the ship, since Captain
Wills had received an awkward blow between the shoulders from the
swinging of a loose block, and lay below in considerable pain and
occasionally spitting blood, which made us fear some inward hurt.
During the night of the 4th, the wind moderated; but the weather turning
thick again, we were hardly reassured.
Early on the 6th Captain Wills appeared once more on deck and sent me
below to get some sleep. I believe indeed that, had fate allowed, I
could have slept round the clock. But at ten that morning a violent
shock pitched me clean out of my berth. The _Independence_ was aground.
The place of our shipwreck you will find in 47 degrees 66 minutes N.
lat., between Vancouver's Cape Flattery and the mouth of the Columbia
River, but nearer to the former. Luckily the _Independence_ had run in
upon soft ground and at high water: so that when the tide dropped she
still held together, though badly shaken and gaping in all her lower
seams. To save her was out of the question. We therefore made the best
of our way ashore in the dense fog, taking with us all our guns and the
best part of our ammunition, as well as provisions and a quantity of
sails and spars for rigging up tents. On no side of us could we see
further than twenty paces. Of the inhabitants of this dreary spot--if
indeed it had inhabitants--we knew nothing. So we first of all cleaned
and loaded our firearms, and then set to work to light a fire and erect
a shelter. We had done better, as it turned out, to have divided our
company, and told off a fairly strong party to protect the ship. As it
was, Captain Wills remained on board with three men to cut away and take
down some of the heavier tackling.
We had set up one tent and were at work on the second, when I heard an
exclamation from Margit, who stood by the big cauldron, a few paces off,
cooking our dinner of salt pork. Looking up I saw a ring of savages all
about us on the edge of the fog.
They were brown undersized men, clothed for the most part in dirty
blankets and armed with short lances shod with iron, though one or two
carried muskets. These last I soon discovered to be toens, or elders,
of the tribe. They stood and observed us with great gravity (indeed in
all my acquaintance with them I never knew one to smile) and in
absolute silence. I could not tell how many the fog concealed.
They made no aggressive movement.
I called to Margit, bidding her leave the cauldron and walk quietly
towards us; and she did so. Almost at once a savage thrust his lance
into the pot, drew out our dinner on the end of it, and laid it on the
sand. One of the toens then cut up the pork with his knife and handed
the portions round, retaining a large lump for himself.
Seeing this, some of our men were for hostilities: but I restrained
them and we made our meal from a barrel of biscuit, eating in silence
while the natives chewed away at the pork. The meal over, we fell to
work and finished the second tent without opposition, though curiosity
drew some of our visitors so near as to hamper the workmen. When thrust
aside they showed no resentment, but after a minute drew near again and
impeded us as badly as ever.
Towards nightfall the main body drew off--whither, the fog did not
reveal: but one or two entered the tents with us, hung around while we
supped, and without the least invitation stretched themselves down to
sleep. I own that this impudence tried my temper sorely, and Obed--the
only one of us who knew some scraps of the language of these Indians--
went so far as to remonstrate with them. But if they understood, they
gave no sign of understanding: and we resolved to forbear from violence,
at least so long as Captain Wills and his three comrades remained away
from our main body and exposed to any vengeance these savages might
wreak.
And our fears for the Captain were justified about 4 a.m. by a report of
firearms in the direction of the ship. I sprang to the door and waved a
torch, and in a minute or so our comrades came running in through a
shower of stones and lances, several of which struck the tents.
The natives, it appeared, had attempted to plunder the ship. At great
risk Obed ran out to seek one of the toens and reason with him: but the
mischief happened too quickly. Some of our men caught up their muskets
and fired. Our assailants at once broke up and fled; and half-a-dozen
of us charged down to the water's edge, where we saw a score and more
with torches, busily setting fire to the ship. They too dispersed
before us, leaving two of their number dead on the field and carrying
off several wounded. But we came too late to save the _Independence_,
which was already ablaze in a dozen different places; nor could we make
any effort against the flames, for we knew not how sorely we might be
wanted at the tents.
So we returned and spent the rest of the night in great discomfort, the
blaze of the ship colouring the fog all around, but showing us nothing.
Soon after daybreak the weather lifted a little, and what we saw
discouraged us yet further. For, except the beach on which we were
encamped, we found the whole coast covered with thick forest to the
water's edge; while our boats, in which we might have made shift to
escape, had been either fired or taken off by the savages. At 10 a.m.,
therefore, Captain Wills called a council of war, and informed us that
he could think of no better plan than to push on for a harbour
(its name, if I mistake not, was Gray's Harbour) lying about seventy
miles to the southward, where a ship of the Company was due to call
early in the spring. Obed remembered it, and added that the journey
might be quickly made, since his map showed no creek or river that
promised to impede us, and the Indians were not likely to annoy us while
the camp and the remains of the barque afforded any plunder.
Accordingly we packed up, and having destroyed what muskets and weapons
we did not want and thrown our spare gunpowder into the sea, shortly
after noon began our march through the forest.
We were nineteen persons in all: and each of us carried two muskets, a
pistol and some pounds of ammunition, besides his share of the
provisions. The only ones more lightly laden were Margit and Captain
Wills. The latter, indeed, could with pain manage to walk at all, and
so clogged the pace of the party that we made but eight miles before
night-fall, when we halted in an open space, set watches, and passed the
night with no more discomfort than came from the severe cold.
In the morning we started early and made a good ten miles before noon.
The Captain now seemed at the end of his powers and we allowed him an
hour's rest while we cleaned our firearms. Margit gave no sign of
fatigue: but I observed that she walked alone and in silence. Indeed
she had scarcely spoken since our shipwreck.
The ground chosen for our halt lay about mid-way down a stiff slope by
which the forest descended to the sea, visible here and there between
the stems of the trees below us. Shortly before two o'clock, when we
were preparing to start again, a big stone came crashing down among our
stores; and, as we scattered in alarm, two or three others followed.
Looking up, I caught sight of a couple of Indians on the crest of the
slope, and fired off my rifle to frighten them. They desisted at once:
but to prevent further annoyance we made for the crest, where the rocky
ground made walking difficult, so that we added but another five miles
or so before nightfall.
During this night the wind rose, and at length it blew and snowed so
hard as to drive us off the ridge. Luckily, however, one of the men
discovered a shallow cave in the hillside, and here we huddled and
continued all the next day and night, waiting for the storm to abate;
which no sooner happened than we were assailed again by a perfect
bombardment of big stones. These, however, flew harmlessly over our
shelter.
I was dozing at daybreak on the 10th when a seaman named Hogue woke me
and called my attention to the Captain. He was stiff and cold, and had
died in the night without complaint and, as far as could be learnt,
without sound. The rain of stones not being resumed with daylight, we
left his body in the cave, and pushed on over the snow in sad and sorry
condition: for our provisions now began to run short.
Obed assumed the lead, with the consent of all. Once or twice in the
course of the morning I observed him to pause, as if listening.
The cause of this became apparent at about one in the afternoon, when I,
too, heard the sound of running water: and an hour later we halted on
the edge of a broad valley, with a swift stream running through it,
black between banks of snow, and on the near bank a few huts and a crowd
of three hundred Indians at least.
They had already caught sight of us: so we judged it better to advance,
after looking to our arms. We were met by a toen (the same that had cut
up the pork) and a chief of taller stature and pleasanter features than
we had hitherto happened on in the country. It now appeared that the
previous silence of these people had been deliberate: for the toen at
once began to talk in a language fairly intelligible to Obed.
He proposed to supply us with boats to cross the river, if we would give
up our muskets in payment. This, of course, we refused: but offered
him the whole collection of beads and trinkets that we had brought with
us in the hope of trafficking for food. After some haggling--to which
the handsome chief, Yootramaki, listened with seeming disdain--the toen
undertook to let us have the boats; and presently one appeared, paddled
by three naked savages. As this would barely hold a dozen passengers,
we begged for another, that we might all cross together. The toen
complied, and sent a second, but much smaller boat. In these we allowed
ourselves to be distributed--Obed and I with ten others in the larger,
and Margit with five seamen in the smaller.
The boats pushed out into the stream, the larger leading. The current
ran deep and swift: and when, about half-way across, the nearest savage
ceased paddling, I supposed he did so that the others on the starboard
side might more easily bring the bows round to it. Before one could
guess his true intention he had stooped and whipped out a plug from the
boat's bottom, at the same time calling to his comrades, who leapt up
and flung themselves overboard. The next moment he was after them, and
the whole party swimming to shore. The current swept us down and
carried us so near to a spit of the shore we had left, that the savages,
who now pelted us with arrows, succeeded in killing one seaman, and
wounding four others: but here most fortunately it set right across for
the opposite bank, where we contrived to land just as our boat sank
beneath us. Those in the smaller boat, however, fell into our enemy's
hands, who clubbed the five seamen on the head, sparing only Margit; and
then, supposing our muskets to be wet and useless, crossed over in a
canoe to attack us.
But as Providence would have it, we had four muskets left dry--they
being slung round us in bandoliers--and the greater part of our powder
unspoiled. We met the foe with a volley which disposed of three and
sank the canoe. The survivors swam for it, and I dare say reached
shore. A second canoe put off, and from the bows of it the rascally
toen (cause of all this misfortune, as we deemed) hailed Obed and
offered to let us go in peace and even restore Margit if we would
surrender our firearms.
I think the coldest heart must have pitied my poor brother then.
He paced the bank like a mad creature, silent, directing the most
agonised looks at his comrades and at me in particular. We turned our
faces aside; for his wishes were madness, yet we were asking him to
sacrifice what was dearest to him in the world. In his distraction then
he tore off most of his clothes, and piling them in a heap besought the
toen to take them for the ransom; and we too stripped and stood all but
naked, adding our prayers to his. But the scoundrel, without regard of
our offering, spoke to his men, and was paddled away.
I will pass over the hour that followed. We quieted Obed's ravings at
length; or rather, they ceased out of pure exhaustion. We were all
starving in fact, and the food left in our wallets would not keep a cat
alive for another forty-eight hours. Retiring to a clump of firs about
100 yards back from the river's bank, we scooped a hole in the snow and
entrenched ourselves as well as we could for the night. Some of us
managed to sleep a little; the others tried to allay the pangs of hunger
by chewing their musket-covers, the sponges on their ramrods, even their
boot-soles.
At midnight came my turn for watching. In my weakness I may have dozed,
or perhaps was light-headed. At any rate, turning after some time to
glance at the sleepers, I missed Obed. An ugly suspicion seized me; I
counted the muskets. Two of these were missing. After shaking one of the
sleepers by the elbow and bidding him watch, I leaped over our low
breastwork and ran towards the river in the track of my brother's
footsteps. Almost as I started, a flash and a report of a musket right
ahead changed the current of my fears. By the light of the young moon I
saw two figures struggling and rolling together on the river's brink.
They were Obed and our peculiar enemy, the toen. The body of a dead
Indian lad was stretched some ten paces off beside a small canoe which
lay moored by the bank.
Our comrades came running up as I flung myself into the struggle, and we
quickly secured the toen. I believe Obed would have killed him.
"Don't be a fool!" said I; "cannot you see that we now have a hostage
for Margit?" I ought at the same time to have begged his pardon for my
suspicions. As the reader already knows, Obed had a far keener ear than
I, and it had warned him of the canoe's approach. It turned out
afterwards that the toen had planned this little reconnoitring
expedition on his own account, and on the chance perhaps of filching a
musket or two.
We quickly laid our plans; and at daybreak flung my gentleman, bound
hand and foot, into his own canoe, which Obed and I paddled into
mid-stream, while our party stood on the bank and watched. The village
opposite seemed deserted: but at Obed's hail an Indian woman ran out of
the largest hut, and returning, must have summoned the good-looking
chief Yootramaki; who emerged in a minute or so, and came slowly down
the bank. By this time several groups of Indians had gathered and stood
looking on, in all perhaps eighty or a hundred people.
Obed pointed to our prisoner and made his demand. I understood him to
ask for the immediate ransom of Margit, and a supply of salmon and other
provisions to take us on our journey. The chief stood considering for a
while; then spoke to a native boy, who ran to the house; and in a minute
or so Margit herself appeared, with the native woman who had first taken
word of us. She came down the bank, and Yootramaki signed to Obed to
address her; which he did.
"Margit," said he, pointing to the toen, "I believe that in this
scoundrel here God has provided a way out of all our troubles.
We caught him last night, and have brought him along as ransom for you.
But stand close to the water and be ready to jump for the boat if they
mean treachery. Edom and I will see that you come to no harm."
"My dear husband," she answered, very quiet and slow, "I think you are
wasting your time. I am sorry, but I shall not go with you."
Obed turned a dazed look on me, and then, supposing he had not heard
aright, began again--
"Stand close by the water, and jump when I give the word. All may
depend on your quickness--only be bold, my dear. I will explain after."
"But it is I that must explain. I am not going with you: really I am
not."
Obed turned again to me, this time with wide eyes. "God of mercy!" he
cried hoarsely; "her troubles have driven her mad!"
Margit heard. "Oh no," she said; "I am not mad. The chief here has
taken me: he seems to be the most powerful man in this tribe, and at
least he is kind. I should be mad, rather, to wander with you through
the forests, and in the end fall into worse hands, or perhaps die of
starvation or cold. I do not want to be frozen--again. Go away now,
when you have bartered the man there for food. You have been very good
to me, but this cannot be helped."
Obed lifted his gun: then lowered it. "Dom," he muttered, "can you
shoot her? I cannot!"
I was using all my strength, just then, to keep paddling the canoe
against the current. I caught a glimpse of our comrades on the further
bank: and then exactly what happened I know not. Perhaps Margit, having
given her answer, turned back towards the house. At any rate, shrilly
crying her name, Obed sprang up and discharged his musket. The shot
went wide. With a second furious cry he stooped, caught up the helpless
toen, and held him high in air. The canoe lurched heavily, and the next
instant I was in the water.
I never saw Obed again: and the toen must have gone down like a stone.
For me, I struck out for the far shore, but the current swept me down on
the sandy spit where we had nearly come to shipwreck, the day before.
Several Indians had gathered there. One ran into the water, waist-high,
lifting a club. I turned and made a last effort to swim from him, but
he flung himself on my back and bore me under.
I recovered to find myself in an Indian hut. Margit had persuaded them
to spare me, and I was now, in name at least, a slave in Yootramaki's
possession. As a matter of fact, however, I was allowed to do pretty
much as I liked; and my employment (absurd as it may sound) for the most
part consisted in designing kites and other toys for the natives, who in
mind and disposition resemble children rather than grown people--sullen
and rather vicious children, I should say.
I believe that Obed's body never came to land. Panic-stricken by his
death (I was told), our surviving comrades turned and fled into the
woods: and from that hour no more was heard of them. Probably they
perished of weariness and hunger; it is at least unlikely in the extreme
that they found their way back among civilised men.
Though I accompanied my master and his household northward to the
village near Cape Flattery, where his chief residence lay, and remained
more than three months in his service, I could never obtain speech with
Margit. But I have reason to believe she accepted her new life with
absolute contentment. No doubt, though, she found the sight of me an
irksome reminder: and one day early in April Yootramaki took me aside
and promised me my liberty if I would travel with him as far as the
Strait, where an American brig had lately arrived. Of course I accepted
his offer with gratitude; and we set forth next day. The captain of
this brig (the _Cordelia_) was a Mr. Best, and his business in those
parts seemed to consist in trading old American muskets in exchange for
furs and dried fish. The Indians have no notion of repairing a gun
which has got out of order, and Captain Best actually carried a gunsmith
on board, whose knowledge enabled him to buy up at one place all the
guns that wanted repairing, and sell them as new pieces at another.
It only remains to add that the _Cordelia_ conveyed me to Valparaiso,
whence I shipped for England, reaching the Downs in safety on the 4th of
April, 1809.
[1] Shelter from the wind.
[2] Farmyard.