GRAVITY OUT OF BED.
A week later I had a visit from old Mercer. He came to my house in the
evening just after the closing of the store. First of all, he paid out
to me the gold I had lost from my ship at Accomac, with all the gravity
in the world, as if it had been an ordinary merchant's bargain. Then he
produced some papers, and putting on big horn spectacles, proceeded to
instruct me in them. They were lists, fuller than those I had already
got, of men up and down the country whom Lawrence trusted. Some I had
met, many I knew of, but two or three gave me a start. There was a
planter in Henricus who had treated me like dirt, and some names from
Essex county that I did not expect. Especially there were several in
James Town itself--one a lawyer body I had thought the obedient serf of
the London merchants, one the schoolmaster, and another a drunken
skipper of a river boat. But what struck me most was the name of
Colonel Beverley.
"Are you sure of all these?" I asked.
"Sure as death," he said. "I'm not saying that they're all friends of
yours, Mr. Garvald. Ye've trampled on a good wheen toes since you came
to these parts. But they're all men to ride the ford with, if that
should come which we ken of."
Some of the men on the list were poor settlers, and it was our business
to equip them with horse and gun. That was to be my special duty--that
and the establishing of means by which they could be summoned quickly.
With the first Mercer could help me, for he had his hand on all the
lines of the smuggling business, and there were a dozen ports on the
coast where he could land arms. Horses were an easy matter, requiring
only the doling out of money. But the summoning business was to be my
particular care. I could go about the country in my ordinary way of
trade without exciting suspicion, and my house was to be the rendezvous
of every man on the list who wanted news or guidance.
"Can ye trust your men?" Mercer asked, and I replied that Faulkner was
as staunch as cold steel, and that he had picked the others.
"Well, let's see your accommodation," and the old fellow hopped to his
feet, and was out of doors before I could get the lantern.
Mercer on a matter of this sort was a different being from the decayed
landlord of the water-side tavern. His spectacled eyes peered
everywhere, and his shrewd sense judged instantly of a thing's value.
He approved of the tobacco-shed as a store for arms, for he could reach
it from the river by a little-used road through the woods. It was easy
so to arrange, the contents that a passing visitor could guess nothing,
and no one ever penetrated to its recesses but Faulkner and myself. I
summoned Faulkner to the conference, and told him his duties, which, he
undertook with sober interest. He was a dry stick from Fife, who spoke
seldom and wrought mightily.
Faulkner attended to Mercer's consignments, and I took once more to the
road. I had to arrange that arms from the coast or the river-sides
could be sent inland, and for this purpose I had a regiment of pack
horses that delivered my own stores as well. I had to visit all the men
on the list whom I did not know, and a weary job it was. I repeated
again my toil of the first year, and in the hot Virginian summer rode
the length and breadth of the land. My own business prospered hugely,
and I bought on credit such a stock of tobacco as made me write my
uncle for a fourth ship at the harvest sailing. It seemed a strange
thing, I remember, to be bargaining for stuff which might never be
delivered, for by the autumn the dominion might be at death grips.
In those weeks I discovered what kind of force Lawrence leaned on. He
who only knew James Town and the rich planters knew little of the true
Virginia. There were old men who had long memories of Indian fights,
and men in their prime who had risen with Bacon, and young men who had
their eyes turned to the unknown West. There were new-comers from
Scotland and North Ireland, and a stout band of French Protestants,
most of them gently born, who had sought freedom for their faith beyond
the sway of King Louis. You cannot picture a hardier or more spirited
race than the fellows I thus recruited. The forest settler who swung an
axe all day for his livelihood could have felled the ordinary fine
gentleman with one blow of his fist. And they could shoot too, with
their rusty matchlocks or clumsy snaphances. In some few the motive was
fear, for they had seen or heard of the tender mercies of the savages.
But in most, I think, it was a love of bold adventure, and especially
the craving to push the white man's province beyond the narrow borders
of the Tidewater. If you say that this was something more than defence,
I claim that the only way to protect a country is to make sure of its
environs. What hope is there of peace if your frontier is the rim of an
unknown forest?
My hardest task was to establish some method of sending news to the
outland dwellers. For this purpose I had to consort with queer folk.
Shalah, who had become my second shadow, found here and there little
Indian camps, from which he chose young men as messengers. In one place
I would get a settler with a canoe, in another a woodman with a fast
horse; and in a third some lad who prided himself on his legs. The rare
country taverns were a help, for most of their owners were in the
secret. The Tidewater is a flat forest region, so we could not light
beacons as in a hilly land. But by the aid of Shalah's woodcraft I
concocted a set of marks on trees and dwellings which would speak a
language to any initiate traveller. The Indians, too, had their own
silent tongue, by which they could send messages over many leagues in a
short space. I never learned the trick of it, though I tried hard with
Shalah as interpreter; for that you must have been suckled in a wigwam.
When I got back to James Town, Faulkner would report on his visitors,
and he seems to have had many. Rough fellows would ride up at the
darkening, bringing a line from Mercer, or more often an agreed
password, and he had to satisfy their wants and remember their news. So
far I had had no word from Lawrence, though Mercer reported that Ringan
was still sending arms. That tobacco-shed of mine would have made a
brave explosion if some one had kindled it, and, indeed, the thing more
than once was near happening through a negro's foolishness. I spent all
my evenings, when at home, in making a map of the country. I had got a
rough chart from the Surveyor-General, and filled up such parts as I
knew, and over all I spread a network of lines which meant my ways of
sending news. For instance, to get to a man in Essex county, the word
would be passed by Middle Plantation to York Ferry. Thence in an
Indian's canoe it would be carried to Aird's store on the Mattaponey,
from which a woodman would take it across the swamps to a clump of
hemlocks. There he would make certain marks, and a long-legged lad from
the Rappahannock, riding by daily to school, would carry the tidings to
the man I wanted. And so forth over the habitable dominion. I
calculated that there were not more than a dozen of Lawrence's men who
within three days could not get the summons and within five be at the
proper rendezvous.
One evening I was surprised by a visit from Colonel Beverley. He came
openly on a fine bay horse with two mounted negroes as attendants. I
had parted from him dryly, and had been surprised to find that he was
one of us; but when I had talked with him a little, it appeared that he
had had a big share in planning the whole business. We mentioned no
names, but I gathered that he knew Lawrence, and was at least aware of
Ringan. He warned me, I remember, to be on my guard against some of the
young bloods, who might visit me to make mischief. "It's not that they
know anything of our affairs," he said, "but that they have got a
prejudice against yourself, Mr. Garvald. They are foolish, hot-headed
lads, very puffed up by their pride of gentrice, and I do not like the
notion of their playing pranks in that tobacco-shed."
I asked him a question which had long puzzled me, why the natural
defence of a country should be kept so secret. "The Governor, at any
rate," I said, "would approve, and we are not asking the burgesses for
a single guinea."
"Yes, but the Governor would play a wild hand," was the answer. "He
would never permit the thing to go on quietly, but would want to ride
at the head of the men, and the whole fat would be in the fire. You
must know. Mr. Garvald, that politics run high in our Virginia. There
are scores of men who would see in our enterprise a second attempt like
Bacon's, and, though they might approve of our aims, would never hear
of one of Bacon's folk serving with us. I was never a Bacon's man, for
I was with Berkeley in Accomac and at the taking of James Town, but I
know the quality of the rough fellows that Bacon led, and I want them
all for this adventure. Besides, who can deny that there is more in our
plans than a defence against Indians? There are many who feel with me
that Virginia can never grow to the fullness of a nation so long as she
is cooped up in the Tidewater. New-comers arrive by every ship from
England, and press on into the wilderness. But there can be no conquest
of the wilderness till we have broken the Indian menace, and pushed our
frontier up to the hills--ay, and beyond them. But tell that to the
ordinary planter, and he will assign you to the devil. He fears these
new-comers, who are simple fellows that do not respect his grandeur. He
fears that some day they may control the assembly by their votes. He
wants the Tidewater to be his castle, with porters and guards to hound
away strangers. Man alive, if you had tried to put reason into some of
their heads, you would despair of human nature. Let them get a hint of
our preparations, and there will be petitions to Council and a howling
about treason, and in a week you will be in gaol, Mr. Garvald. So we
must move cannily, as you Scots say."
That conversation made me wary, and I got Faulkner to keep a special
guard on the place when I was absent. At the worst, he could summon
Mercer, who would bring a rough crew from the water-side to his aid.
Then once more I disappeared into the woods.
In these days a new Shalah revealed himself. I think he had been
watching me closely for the past months, and slowly I had won his
approval. He showed it by beginning to talk as he loped by my side in
our forest wanderings. The man was like no Indian I have ever seen. He
was a Senecan, and so should have been on the side of the Long House;
but it was plain that he was an outcast from his tribe, and, indeed,
from the whole Indian brotherhood. I could not fathom him, for he
seemed among savages to be held in deep respect, and yet here he was,
the ally of the white man against his race. His lean, supple figure,
his passionless face, and his high, masterful air had a singular
nobility in them. To me he was never the servant, scarcely even the
companion, for he seemed like a being from another world, who had a
knowledge of things hid from human ken. In woodcraft he was a master
beyond all thought of rivalry. Often, when time did not press, he would
lead me, clumsy as I was, so that I could almost touch the muzzle of a
crouching deer, or lay a hand on a yellow panther, before it slipped
like a live streak of light into the gloom. He was an eery fellow, too.
Once I found him on a high river bank at sunset watching the red glow
behind the blue shadowy forest.
"There is blood in the West," he said, pointing like a prophet with his
long arm, "There is blood in the hills which is flowing to the waters.
At the Moon of Stags it will flow, and by the Moon of Wildfowl it will
have stained the sea."
He had always the hills at the back of his head. Once, when we caught a
glimpse of them from a place far up the James River, he stood like a
statue gazing at the thin line which hung like a cloud in the west. I
am upland bred, and to me, too, the sight was a comfort as I stood
beside him.
"The _Manitou_ in the hills is calling," he said abruptly. "I wait a
little, but not long. You too will follow, brother, to where the hawks
wheel and the streams fall in vapour. There we shall find death or
love, I know not which, but it will be a great finding. The gods have
written it on my heart."
Then he turned and strode away, and I did not dare to question him.
There was that about him which stirred my prosaic soul into a wild
poetry, till for the moment I saw with his eyes, and heard strange
voices in the trees.
Apart from these uncanny moods he was the most faithful helper in my
task. Without him I must have been a mere child. I could not read the
lore of the forest; I could not have found my way as he found it
through pathless places. From him, too, I learned that we were not to
make our preparations unwatched.
Once, as we were coming from the Rappahannock to the York, he darted
suddenly into the undergrowth below the chestnuts. My eye could see no
clue on the path, and, suspecting nothing, I waited on him to return.
Presently he came, and beckoned me to follow. Thirty yards into the
coppice we found a man lying dead, with a sharp stake holding him to
the ground, and a raw, red mass where had been once his head.
"That was your messenger, brother," he whispered, "the one who was to
carry word from the Mattaponey to the north. See, he has been dead for
two suns."
He was one of the tame Algonquins who dwelt by Aird's store.
"Who did it?" I asked, with a very sick stomach.
"A Cherokee. Some cunning one, and he left a sign to guide us."
He showed me a fir-cone he had picked up from the path, with the sharp
end cut short and a thorn stuck in the middle.
The thing disquieted me horribly, for we had heard no word yet of any
movement from the West. And yet it seemed that our enemy's scouts had
come far down into the Tidewater, and knew enough to single out for
death a man we had enrolled for service. Shalah slipped off without a
word, and I was left to continue my journey alone. I will not pretend
that I liked the business. I saw an Indian in every patch of shadow,
and looked pretty often to my pistols before I reached the security of
Aird's house.
Four days later Shalah appeared at James Town. "They were three," he
said simply. "They came from the hills a moon ago, and have been making
bad trouble on the Rappahannock. I found them at the place above the
beaver traps of the Ooniche. They return no more to their people."
After that we sent out warnings, and kept a close eye on the different
lodges of the Algonquins. But nothing happened till weeks later, when
the tragedy on the Rapidan fell on us like a thunderclap.
* * * * *
All this time I had been too busy to go near the town or the
horse-racings and holiday meetings where I might have seen Elspeth. But
I do not think she was ever many minutes out of my mind. Indeed, I was
almost afraid of a meeting, lest it should shatter the bright picture
which comforted my solitude. But one evening in June as I jogged home
from Middle Plantation through the groves of walnuts, I came suddenly
at the turn of the road on a party. Doctor James Blair, mounted on a
stout Flanders cob, held the middle of the path, and at his side rode
the girl, while two servants followed with travelling valises. I was
upon them before I could rein up, and the Doctor cried a hearty
good-day. So I took my place by Elspeth, and, with my heart beating
wildly, accompanied them through the leafy avenues and by the green
melon-beds in the clearings till we came out on the prospect of the
river.
The Doctor had a kindness for me, and was eager to talk of his doings.
He was almost as great a moss-trooper as myself, and, with Elspeth for
company, had visited near every settlement in the dominion. Education
and Christian privileges were his care, and he deplored the backward
state of the land. I remember that even then he was full of his scheme
for a Virginian college to be established at Middle Plantation, and he
wrote weekly letters to his English friends soliciting countenance and
funds. Of the happy issue of these hopes, and the great college which
now stands at Williamsburg, there is no need to remind this generation.
But in that hour I thought little of education. The Doctor boomed away
in his deep voice, and I gave him heedless answers. My eyes were ever
wandering to the slim figure at my side. She wore a broad hat of straw,
I remember, and her skirt and kirtle were of green, the fairies'
colour. I think she was wearied with the sun, for she spoke little; but
her eyes when they met mine were kind. That day I was not ashamed of my
plain clothes or my homely face, for they suited well with the road. My
great boots of untanned buckskin were red with dust, I was bronzed like
an Indian, and the sun had taken the colour out of my old blue coat.
But I smacked of travel and enterprise, which to an honest heart are
dearer than brocade. Also I had a notion that my very homeliness
revived in her the memories of our common motherland. I had nothing to
say, having acquired the woodland habit of silence, and perhaps it was
well. My clumsy tongue would have only broken the spell which the
sunlit forests had woven around us.
As we reached my house a cavalier rode up with a bow and a splendid
sweep of his hat. 'Twas my acquaintance, Mr. Grey, come to greet the
travellers. Elspeth gave me her hand at parting, and I had from the
cavalier the finest glance of hate and jealousy which ever comforted
the heart of a backward lover.