Eily winked at Michael. He casually jumped over a low stone wall and walked toward a clump of bushes as if he had to answer a call of nature. In a minute he was out of sight.
The two girls stood still as Tom Daly walked back and knelt down beside the old woman.
‘Let me die here along the road, for I’ll never make it to the workhouse,’ Statia sobbed.
Tom Daly was trying to soothe and calm her. All eyes were watching him to see what he would do now.
Quick as a flash, Eily jerked Peggy’s arm and half-dragged and half-threw her over the stone wall. They bent double and made their way to the bushes. There the three of them wove their way behind the hedgerows and fields. They crossed more stone walls. Gradually they began to make their way uphill, trying to keep hidden.
‘Eily, Eily, for heaven’s sake come back.’
She could hear Tom Daly calling her name in the distance down below. The three of them kept running. Their hearts hammered in their chests and their breath came in gasps. When they had reached the far side of the hill they slowed down. They had in fact doubled back and were on familiar ground. There was silence all around except for the screech of a bird in the sky. They stopped to rest. From the knees down, their legs were covered in nettle rash. Obviously they had run through the nettles without realising it.
‘Michael! Michael!’
It was the O’Connell twins, Seamus and Peadar, identical, with their red curly hair and bright green eyes. They were moving towards them but luckily hadn’t spotted them. Quick as lightning the children got down low on their stomachs and managed to drag themselves into a large clump of bracken and gorse. The fields and hillsides were covered with gorse, its vivid yellow flowers making bright smudges on the landscape. It was thorny and spiky, and tore their hands and cut their faces. Even through their clothes it scratched their skin. They lay still, not daring even to breathe. Now they understood the fear of a petrified rabbit or hare cornered in the bushes.
Peadar stood a few feet away from them. He had a thin stick in his hand. He brought it down sharply on the gorse, making the whole clump move. Eily kept her eyes tightly shut.
‘Shamey, Shamey, there’s no sight of them. How long does Tom want us to search for them before we catch him up on the road?’ They had moved away a bit by now and were complaining to each other. The voices seemed more distant, but Michael insisted that they stay put just in case it was a trap. Eily was so crouched that her toes and feet had gone numb. A large prickle was pressing against her back. She had to force herself to lie still.
Peadar’s voice suddenly got louder and a third person had joined them. Had Tom Daly come himself to search for them? No, it wasn’t a man’s voice. They knew the voice. It was Mary Kate. Another twenty minutes or so passed and there wasn’t a sound. Was it safe to come out?
‘Nanny, Nanny. Will you show yourself, you bothersome creature? I’m worn out with you,’ cajoled Mary Kate. The old woman was looking for her goat. That would explain her being up the back fields.
‘Oh Nanny, you have my poor old heart broken,’ wailed Mary Kate.
Eily could see her through the bushes and could hardly believe her eyes – Mary Kate was winking, or was there something wrong with her eye? No, she was definitely winking. The old lady was standing in front of them.
‘Nanny, Nanny,’ she shouted out loud, then in a low voice whispered, ‘You’re all right now, you spalpeens, I’ve sent them on a wild goose chase. Come out of there quick and we’ll go back to my place.’
They could hardly believe their ears or eyes. They were stiff and sore, but still had to keep low until they came to Mary Kate’s cottage. She pushed them inside and then closed the door.
They blinked in the gloom, trying to get used to the darkness after the bright sunshine outside. Once inside, Mary Kate hugged each of them in turn. They told her the whole story and how they had managed to escape from being sent to the workhouse. She tut-tutted and said how brave they were. While they talked she got water and a cloth and busied herself bathing and cleaning their scratches and nettle stings. Then with two grimy fingers she smeared a greasy ointment on the affected parts. It smelled foul, like something rotten, but within about two minutes all the pain and stinging had eased. The cottage was filthy, as usual, and Eily was tempted to take the broom and give it a good sweep out in order to repay the old lady’s kindness in sheltering them. With the four of them inside there was scarcely room to move. The children squatted on the floor among the ashes and dirt. Mary Kate began to poke at the fire and put a large pot on to cook.
‘Children, you know you are welcome here with me,’ said Mary Kate.
Eily knew she meant i t , but i t would be impossible to stay there as the place was far too small and Mary Kate was used to having it to herself. Also there would be the risk that Tom Daly would find out they were there and maybe evict the old lady.
‘We’ll stay the night, Mary Kate,’ said Eily, trying not to sound ungrateful, ‘but at first light tomorrow we must set off on our journey to Castletaggart to find our aunts. We don’t know what has happened Mother and Father, but they’ll come after us if they can.’
Peggy had begun to relax and found she was no longer afraid of the old lady, and she sat at Mary Kate’s feet, petting Tinker. A delightful smell came from the pot and filled the air. The children’s stomachs groaned with hunger. Mary Kate got four plates from under a pile of rubbish. She wiped them with her sleeve and then ladled out the piping hot mixture. Eily and Michael couldn’t work out exactly what it was, but it tasted grand and maybe it was better not to ask what was in it, as God only knows what the old woman had managed to collect for her cooking pot.
Then Mary Kate tucked Peggy up in her settle bed. Afterwards she sat down in her old chair and chatted to Michael and Eily. She got two or three jars down and took off the lids.
‘This one is for the fever. You mix it with water and drink it about four times a day,’ began Mary Kate. ‘This one is for stomach ache and cramps. You take a pinch of the leaves and herbs and chew them – never mind the taste. And this is the one I used tonight. It is for cuts and wounds, bites and stings. First of all, you must clean the wound well and then put on the ointment.’
She replaced the lids and gave them to Eily. ‘You have a long journey ahead, let nature be your friend and help. Keep away from other people on the roads, for they will carry the sickness. Keep close to the river as it will help you to find your way. Gather what you may from the countryside, but don’t eat strange berries or mushrooms and don’t eat any dead animal you find. Only fresh meat is good. God keep ye safe, ye poor creatures. I’ll be thinking of ye and will keep an eye out for your mother.’
Having said her piece, the old lady got up and pulled off the top two layers of her clothes and got into bed beside the sleeping Peggy. Eily and Michael were so exhausted and tired they lay down to sleep on the ground.
The dawn was just breaking when they got ready to take their leave of Mary Kate. A drink of goat’s milk and some stale soda bread was their breakfast. Two large tears ran down the old lady’s cheeks, creating a pale streak in the brown face. They all knew it was unlikely they would ever meet again.
‘God spare ye,’ prayed Mary Kate, and waved as they walked through the long dew-soaked grass and headed down towards the flash of blue in the distance through the trees. For there lay the river.
CHAPTER 6
Follow the River
IT WAS STILL COOL in the early morning as they walked through the damp grass. Later on, the day promised to be a scorcher. They could almost pretend they were off on an adventure for a few hours. One or two startled rats ran across their path. They made their way carefully through a field of oats. Tall thin bright red poppies grew there and waved at them. Peggy could not resist the temptation and began to pull them, but within a few minutes they hung limply from her hands and the soft red petals clung damply together. It was best to leave them swaying gently in the slight breeze.
It to
ok them about an hour to reach the river. They sat on the rocks and dangled their feet in the cold clear water that rushed over the stones and sand. They followed its course for the next two hours, but the ground was getting heavier and soggier and their feet kept getting stuck in the oozing mud. The field all around them was damp and they kept sinking in the clinging soil. Across the river the grass seemed drier and they could see no signs of the rough holes filled with stagnant water that they kept trying to avoid.
‘We must cross the river,’ urged Michael. ‘Otherwise we might get stuck and have to take to high ground.’ His voice was serious and he kept his eyes peeled until at last he considered he’d found an easy spot.
The river narrowed and large lichen-covered rocks made a pathway in the middle of the rushing water.
‘I’ll go across first, girls, to show you the way,’ Michael teased, ‘and then I’ll come back for Peggy.’ He waded out to the first rock. It was uneven, and wobbled dangerously. He hopped to the next, which was long and narrow, and then two little ones, then a high step up on to a jagged piece of granite. From there it was easy to jump neatly from one to the other until you reached the sand and gravel on the other side. Michael bowed with bravado at them. ‘Now, isn’t that easy? Peggy, I’ll come back for you.’
Peggy waded out a bit and then followed Michael’s directions. When the big rock wobbled she was sure she would fall in, but Michael stretched out his arm to steady her. All was going well until they reached the jagged rock. Michael had to go ahead of her and help pull her on to it. As he leaned towards her he suddenly realised that he had gashed his shin and that the blood was dripping into the crystal clear water. Eily had come after them and was only two stones behind. A few seconds later they were safe at the water’s edge.
‘Michael, you’ve cut yourself,’ said Eily. ‘Will I get Mary Kate’s stuff?’
He shrugged. ‘I’ll just wash it, it’s only a nick. Don’t be fussing – you’re nearly as bad as Mother.’
They began to walk again. Under their breath they hummed a tune of Father’s. Peggy kept stopping to pick up stones and flowers and old bird feathers, but when no-one would help her carry them she had no choice but to drop them along the way. They walked for a few hours. The sun was high and directly over their heads. The sweat ran down their foreheads and the back of their necks.
‘I want to stop, I’ll not go another foot,’ insisted Peggy. Her cheeks were hot and flushed and she looked dead tired.
They all flopped down to rest. Mary Kate had given them a canful of Nanny’s milk. They all had a few sups of it. With this heat, in another few hours it would be undrinkable. There was some cold meal mix. That was enough, they would save the rest for later. They rinsed out the can in the river and filled it with water, then they lay back in the sunshine like a crowd of kittens. They were so tired they did not even have the energy to talk. Eily did not know how it happened, but they must all have dozed off, for when she woke up the sun was lower in the sky and the heavy heat was gone from it. She thumped the others to wake-up and get on their way as they should aim to walk another few miles before dusk.
Later they found a safe dry place still within sight of the river, and spread the blankets on the soft bracken. A bit more to eat, then they cuddled up close and watched the night sky creep in. They were fast asleep before the stars appeared.
The next three days continued in much the same way. Eily was only too conscious that the food bag was getting lighter and lighter. Michael’s ‘little nick’ had not healed up. Yellow pus was beginning to appear under the scab and light pink streaks ran from it up towards his knee. They had all slowed down, but Eily suspected that Michael might even be in pain. The night before, despite all his giving out, she had put a dollop of Mary Kate’s ointment on the skin, hoping they hadn’t left it too late.
On that fourth day the air was hot and heavy, but there was no sign of the sun. It was exhausting to walk in such weather as you felt there was not enough air to fill your lungs.
Through the rushes and weeds that covered the river bank, they could at times glimpse people on the distant road. As the ground near the river was stonier, Eily felt it might be easier for Michael to walk on the well-worn path. They passed a few other people on the path, but avoided them, remembering Mary Kate’s warning. Then a man came by on horseback, pulling a slide. He had a piece of cloth tied around his face, his eyes stared straight ahead. On the slide were piled four or five skeleton-like bodies, their bare skin and bones showing through the rags. The children moved away, turning their backs. Eily clamped the palms of her hands over Peggy’s eyes, trying to protect her from such a sight.
Dejectedly they kept on going, and after a few miles they came upon a carriage. A horde of people surrounded it, silent and threatening. The driver was trying to calm the terrified horse as two very shaken passengers took in the frenzy around them. They were afraid for their lives. The man stood up and scattered coins on the ground, hoping to disperse the crowd and clear a path. The woman had lost her bonnet and was pale with shock at the desperate appearance of the men, women and children all around.
Frightened by these things, the children slipped off the road and on to a trail which ran in the same direction as the river. Eily could not stop herself longing for Father and Mother and wondering what might have happened to them.
By next morning, Michael’s leg had swollen and he could not bend his knee. They would not be able to get very far with such a setback. He managed to hobble for about a mile. Then they had such luck they could hardly believe it. They had just crossed a stile when at the far end of the field, under a clump of huge chestnut trees, they noticed a little spiral of smoke. Peggy ran on ahead.
‘It’s a fire,’ she called. ‘Come on quick and see.’
She was right. They could hardly believe it – the dying embers of a fire! Eily frantically scrambled around under the trees looking for some dry twigs. She found a few and carefully put them on the embers, then knelt down and began to blow softly. A slight flicker of flame began to stir. Peggy was jumping up and down with excitement. Suddenly a finger of flame touched the dryness of the twigs and set them alight. They had a fire. Michael lowered himself down gently to the ground and positioned himself against the broad trunk of one of the trees, his legs stretched out in front of him. The girls put down their things and then set out to search for anything that would fuel the fire. They kept going backwards and forwards with the twigs and sticks, until they felt they had enough to keep it going.
Obviously some other people had passed this way not so long before. There were other signs of their presence too. Eily searched the long grass until she found the thick blackened branch that they must have used for the fire. She hung the pot from it and poured in some water and a piece of lard, then two handfuls of the yellow meal. She also set three wizened-looking spuds to bake in the embers. Tonight they would eat well, as they were all famished and getting weaker and would need strength to search for food.
Although the weather was warm, it was lovely to feel the heat of the fire and to smell something cooking. Michael looked dead tired. For once he had to rest easy and let the girls do all the work. The meal began to burn and Eily had to scrape it out of the pot, but still it was good to have something warm inside your stomach. She put the pot on again to boil some water.
‘What’s that for?’ queried Michael. ‘Is there more to eat?’ he asked hopefully.
‘You strap,’ joked Eily, ‘and I’ve no big wooden spoon here. Will you whisht. It’s for yourself, for the leg, and if you’re good there’ll be a baked spud after.’
It didn’t take long for the water to boil.
‘What are you going to do, Eily?’ Michael asked, his voice fearful.
‘Something I’ve seen Mother do a few times,’ she replied. ‘Do you remember when Father got that splinter in his hand, and when Peggy got that bad gash on her knee? Michael, the wound is full of poison. We’ve got to get rid of it and clean it out.’
‘It’s too hot. Take it off, take it off, Eily,’ begged Michael.
‘No, it’s got to stay,’ she replied sternly as she began to tear up another strip of cloth and soak it in the water, hoping her little brother wouldn’t notice the tears in her eyes.
She changed the dressing three times, and the third time the cloth was stained yellow and green where the pus was draining away. She poured the still fairly hot water over the leg, washing the wound out and finally she tied a dry strip of cloth over it.
The next morning Eily breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Michael. The swelling had gone down and the vivid red streaks that ran up his leg had now faded to a dusty pink. She forbade him to stand on the leg, and made him rest it as she boiled some more water and replaced the strips of cloth.
The most urgent thing now was to get more water and fuel, and if possible something to eat. Eily made her way down towards a stream she had noticed a while back, to refill the cans. She did not trust Peggy, first of all not to fall into the water and then not to spill it all running back. Peggy was dispatched to search for more firewood, and if she saw anything edible to remember where. However, she had to stay within shouting distance of Michael.
On the way back, Eily could not believe her luck when she spotted a clump of tiny wild strawberries, their little red hearts peeping through a mass of nettles and weeds. She would come back for them and also for a few new nettles to add to a bit of soup. Peggy was back before her and ran wild with excitement towards her.
Under the Hawthorn Tree: Children of the Famine Page 4