by Peter Roop
“Lieutenant Jones says you are welcome to the cheese, water, and bread. But he’s loaning you the ax,” Watson said.
“How will we return it?” Samantha asked.
“Bring it to Norfolk. Ask for Lieutenant Jones of the Otter.”
“That’s one of Dunmore’s ships,” James blurted out.
Watson eyed him. “That’s Lord Dunmore to you, son. You wouldn’t be rebels, would you? Spying on us?”
“No,” Samantha said quickly, pushing James behind her. “We live way up the James on Queen’s Creek,” she said. “Friends of Thomas Wormley. Maybe you’ve heard what a good Tory he is.” The lie tasted bitter. “We were fishing off Burleigh’s Landing. The storm caught us and swept us along.”
“We don’t live—” James began to say.
Samantha kicked him.
Watson scratched his head. “Makes no never mind to me,” he said. “Just return the ax, or he’ll take it out of my pay.”
“Watson! Conclude your business,” Lieutenant Jones shouted. “We must get under way.”
“Thank you very much,” Samantha said sincerely.
“Thank you,” James echoed.
Without another word, Watson returned to his boat. As it pulled away, Samantha read the name Eagle on its stern.
“Nice craft, that,” she said admiringly as the Eagle’s sail filled. “Come on,” she said to James. “We have work to do.”
“But Sam,” James said, “why did you tell him we were from Queen’s Creek? We live on College Creek.”
“So he can look there for his ax,” she explained. She hefted the sharp blade.
Matthew was leaning against the Fish Hawk.
“Let’s eat before we look for a new mast,” Samantha suggested.
Matthew snatched the cheese from James’s hand. He looked it over. “This cheese came from Papa’s store,” he exclaimed. “I can tell by the seal. They must have stolen it off an American boat. Papa would never sell cheese to the boiled crabs.”
“Who cares?” Samantha said. “It’s cheese. And we’re hungry.”
“I care,” Matthew stormed. “I won’t have anything to do with pirated food.”
Samantha was tired. She didn’t have the energy to battle Matthew over the cheese. She didn’t care if it had fallen off the moon, she was going to enjoy it. “Suit yourself,” she said. She took her knife and sliced off two big chunks. One, she handed to James. The other, she ate with a piece of soggy bread. She drank her fill of water too.
Then, taking the ax, she walked down the shore. Finding the right tree for the mast was not difficult. The storm had uprooted and toppled so many trees that she had her pick of the best. Choosing a young oak sapling, she trimmed off the branches and dragged it back to the Fish Hawk.
While she worked on the mast, Matthew and James spread the two parts of the sail out to dry. Samantha looked them over. She picked the biggest half to use. This she attached to the new mast with its old fittings.
Using the lever and rock, they turned the Fish Hawk over so she rested on her bottom. The stump of the mast was still firmly in place. Using all of the rope she could spare, Samantha lashed the new mast to what was left of the old. “Let’s get her down to the water,” she ordered. Using James’s roller logs, they pushed and pulled the Fish Hawk to the water’s edge.
The tide was high. Soon the Fish Hawk was afloat. They climbed aboard. Samantha raised the makeshift sail.
“It’s not pretty,” she said as the wind filled the sail. “But it will get us home.”
The Fish Hawk limped up College Creek just as the moon rose.
Mama stood alone on the wharf. “Thank God you are safe,” she said, her soft words carrying across the water.
Chapter 15
“Mama, you should have heard the thunder and seen the lightning,” James chattered before they touched shore. “We turned over and our mast broke and—”
“Whoa, James,” Mama said. “You can tell me when we are inside.”
Samantha eased the Fish Hawk into the wharf. She looked for Papa amid the broken branches that littered the farmyard. She didn’t know what kind of greeting to expect from him
Mama said, “Boys, change into dry clothes while I get supper. It’s a fine stew that’s been cooking—for two days.” Mama looked sternly at Samantha. “Wait here, young lady,” she said. She stirred the big kettle on the fire. The smell of steaming stew made Samantha’s mouth water. She licked her lips in anticipation.
“I have one question. I want the answer before Papa returns,” Mama told her. “Was it your idea to take off in the Fish Hawk into the James River?”
“Yes, Mama,” Samantha answered in her meekest voice.
“As I thought,” Mama said, setting three wooden bowls on the table. She rattled three spoons as she laid them down. “Child, when will you ever use that common sense I know you were born with?” Mama asked.
She did not expect an answer. But Samantha had one ready. “Mama, we were only going to see the tar and feathering. But Papa beat us home, and we were going to act as if we had gotten up early to go fishing.” Samantha’s meekness melted. “I didn’t expect a hurricane, Mama!”
Mama came to Samantha and put her arms around her. Samantha snuggled against her warmth. “I know, Samantha,” Mama soothed. “I know. But how is it that you get yourself into so much trouble without even trying?”
“Trouble just has a way of finding me, I guess.”
Mama released her and gave her a love pat. “Get out of those clothes. Tomorrow will be a big washing day,” she sighed.
Nobody was more surprised than Mama when Samantha came out of her room dressed in her dress. Mama burst out laughing, “Samantha Byrd, if you don’t take all!”
James hardly paused to swallow as he told Mama about their adventure. Mama nodded her head and refilled the bowls as they were rapidly emptied.
Samantha was anxious to find out where Papa and Henry were. But the chance didn’t come until James had laid his head down on the table and fallen asleep.
“Leave him be,” Mama said. “He’ll wake soon enough when Papa returns.”
“When might that be?” Samantha asked eagerly.
“I’ve been expecting him all along,” Mama said. “He took old Jasper and went looking for you three on land. Henry borrowed a boat and went searching on the James.”
“We didn’t see him,” Matthew said.
“I guessed that,” Mama replied. “Said he would look east along the peninsula and come back west up the Norfolk shore. He figured you would run to safety and wait out the storm.”
“Samantha did try, Aunt Maggie,” Matthew said. “She really did. But the waves were monstrously big.”
“What I don’t understand is why the British sailors helped you.” Mama said.
Samantha had been chewing on that same thought herself.
“Mama, I think that when there’s a big danger, all the little dangers don’t add up to anything much. Folks just help one another no matter their differences.”
Mama looked at Samantha as if she just announced she was going to wear a dress every day for the rest of her life.
“Maybe something good has come out of your traipsing around,” Mama said. “You are growing up.”
They had been so intent on their talk that they did not hear Jasper’s hoofbeats. Papa burst into the room like a gust of hurricane wind. “They have Henry!” he exclaimed, standing in the doorway.
“Who has Henry?” Mama cried.
“A blasted bunch of British!” Papa shouted. He glared at Samantha. “He was out looking for you and got himself captured.”
Samantha broke down. It had all been too much: the storm, the shipwreck, the sail home. Now Henry captured because of her. Tears erupted and flowed down her cheeks. She didn’t even try to stop them. This was all her fault!
If only she was dead none of this would have happened.
If only.
Chapter 16
Samantha slept
fitfully. As tired as she was, knowing that Henry had been captured because of her made her toss and turn all night. Martha gave up trying to sleep beside her and slept in the chair by the fireplace.
In the morning, Samantha would not look anyone in the eyes. Breakfast was solemn: Each person was wrapped up in his or her thoughts.
After breakfast Samantha and Matthew went down to the dock. The sight of the Fish Hawk made Samantha want to start crying all over again. It looked like the wreck it was—the broken mast, the mud and sand sticking to the gunwales, the tangle of fishing gear.
“I’ll help you,” Matthew said and went to work emptying the boat. Without a word, Samantha joined him. First she cut loose the oak branch that she had used for a mast. After taking off the sail and the pulley for raising it, she tossed the branch into the creek. It drifted slowly downstream. She got a bucket and washed the gunwales.
Matthew spread her things out to dry. He untangled her fishing line and recoiled it in its wooden tub. Using twine, he mended a cracked lathe of her crab pot.
The air was still. Samantha’s heron friend called, “Kraannkk,” as it flew in search of a better feeding ground. Butterflies flitted from flower to flower. A fish jumped for a bug and landed with a soft splash. Behind the barn, Papa chopped wood.
Samantha looked around the farm. She was embarrassed that she hadn’t even asked how they weathered the storm. Shingles had blown off of Mama’s henhouse. The barn door hung askew. Otherwise, the buildings looked normal. Except for the blackened pile of the tobacco shed.
Her thoughts drifted to Henry. All morning she hadn’t been able to face thinking of him. Where was he? How was he being treated? Would they hang him for being a rebel? He was wearing his hunting shirt, a sure symbol of his allegiance to Virginia, not the King. What is Papa going to do?
As if he heard her thoughts, Papa came from behind the barn. He was carrying a new mast! “Samantha,” he said, “fetch an ax. We’ll need to get rid of this stump before we can set the new mast.”
She handed him the ax she had borrowed from the British. Papa chopped out the old mast stump. Samantha ran her fingers down the long, smooth new mast. She fastened the pulley close to the top. She was almost happy. Then she remembered Henry.
“Matthew. Run tell Aunt Maggie we’re ready,” said Papa. Matthew dashed to the house.
What does Mama have to do with my boat? Samantha wondered.
Papa put his hands on Samantha’s shoulders. She looked at the ground. He raised her chin so she had to look him in the eyes. “Sam, I am sorry for what I said last night. I was angry. I still am. But I am angry that my actions placed the three of you in danger.”
But, Papa—” she interrupted.
“Hush, Sam. Don’t argue with me.” He stroked her hair. “In my anger at Thomas Wormley, I meant to harm him. If I hadn’t been such a hothead and gone to tar and feather him, you three would never have stolen out. The rest wouldn’t have happened either. But now you’re safe. We just need to find Henry.”
Samantha opened her mouth to speak. Papa placed a finger over it.
“Your mother and I talked about this long into the night. Mama and I have decided to help you repair the Fish Hawk. Then we will sail to Williamsburg to learn what we can about Henry.”
Papa looked past Samantha. Mama was carrying the Fish Hawk’s old sails, newly stitched.
“Even as much as Mama is opposed to your traipsing around like a boy, she knows how much this boat means to you. And Sam, she really appreciates all the hard work you do.”
Tears welled up. Samantha wiped her eyes.
Matthew trailed Mama, carrying Samantha’s musket and his.
Samantha hugged Papa and Mama.
“Now, child,” Mama said, “no sense in making such a fuss. We have work to do.”
In an hour, the repaired sail was rigged on the new mast. Samantha’s gear was stowed. She placed the British ax with her other gear. The Fish Hawk was shipshape once again.
Samantha admired her boat. She laughed when she saw Mama coming to the dock, a basket under her arm. Martha and James followed.
“We’re ready,” Mama said.
Samantha could not believe it. Mama was going to sail in her boat. She had never set foot in the Fish Hawk before. Neither had Martha. For the longest time nothing ever happened to me, Samantha thought, and now my whole world is upside down. Things would be perfect if only Henry were here. Then she remembered her brother’s predicament. Her thoughts turned to getting them to Williamsburg as quickly as possible.
The Fish Hawk was crowded. Mama and Martha sat in the bow. James, Matthew, and Papa sat along the sides. Samantha sat in the stern, guiding her boat with the tiller. The morning breeze moved up College Creek. With the wind at her back, the Fish Hawk moved confidently.
Samantha pointed out her favorite places to Mama, who showed a genuine interest. The sail would have been most pleasant if her thoughts hadn’t kept flickering to Henry. What could she do to help him?
Nothing, if Lord Dunmore had impressed him into service on one of his ships. Samantha knew from listening to the adults talk that all impressed Americans were watched like criminals to make sure they did not escape. Why can’t the darn British use their own sailors? Why can’t they leave the Virginians and other colonists alone? It isn’t fair, she thought.
They tied up at Uncle John’s wharf.
“I’ll take Samantha and James to Sarah’s house,” Mama announced. “I know you have business to discuss with John.” She paused. “Bring any word about Henry to us immediately.”
Samantha was about to protest and say that she wanted to be with Papa. However, she was determined to be on her best behavior. She even thought about wearing her dress—if Mama hadn’t left it at home. Samantha secretly hoped she had.
Samantha pulled Matthew aside and whispered, “You listen to every word they say. I want to know what’s happening.”
Matthew agreed and said his goodbyes. He ran home to let his family know that Papa was coming.
Mama had not forgotten the dress, but she didn’t press Samantha to wear it. After greetings were made and the news of Henry’s capture was shared, Mama placed the dress in the wardrobe, where it stayed between visits to town.
Martha, Mama, and Sarah chatted while preparing dinner. Samantha played with her little cousins, helping with dinner when she was asked to. Sarah appreciated the break from her brood.
Papa returned with Uncle John as the clock chimed one. Everyone waited anxiously for Papa to speak. “Henry was captured by a tender from the Otter,” he said.
“We know that ship,” Samantha blurted out.
Papa’s look silenced her.
“Henry and four other men were taken aboard yesterday morning. A militiaman who was almost captured himself saw them. He traveled through the night to bring word to Williamsburg.” Papa stopped and looked directly at Mama. “All we can do is pray he will not be harmed for being a rebel. And that he can escape.”
Silence fell on the room. Uncle John finally broke it. “However,” he said. “I have a plan to rescue Henry.”
All eyes turned toward him. Samantha’s gaze was as intense as if she were sighting a shot at a deer.
“Today is the sixth of September. The last day I can ship tobacco to England is the tenth. I refuse to have anything to do with the English, deadline or not. I am taking my ship to Saint Eustatius. There I’ll sell my tobacco and other products to the Dutch. I’ll fill the Cardinal’s hold with gunpowder and bring her back in six weeks.”
Papa cleared his throat and looked straight at Mama again. “John has offered to take James on his ship as cabin boy.”
Chapter 17
Samantha leaped to her feet.
“James!” she cried. “Why he doesn’t know the bow of a boat from the stern!”
Everyone looked at her as if she had exploded a squib on the table.
“Sit down, young lady,” Papa commanded. Whenever Papa called her young lady, she knew
he would brook no argument. She sat down.
Mama spoke up. “Why on earth should he sail as a cabin boy?” she asked. “It’s far too risky.”
Uncle John said, “Maggie, the Cardinal is as safe as Samantha’s Fish Hawk.”
Samantha flinched when he said that. He must not yet know of their mishaps on the Fish Hawk.
“It will be good for the boy,” Papa said. “He is always so eager to learn. Let him learn at sea. It will make a man of him. Look how Matthew changed after he sailed on the Cardinal.”
Samantha thought that Matthew was always the same. Had she missed something?
James sat silently through this discussion. Samantha looked at him. Where’s your backbone? she wondered. Speak for yourself. Tell them no.
“I’ll go,” James said. “It will be … an adventure!”
Samantha wanted to punch him. Her luck was going from bad to worse. She, the sailor in the family, should be sailing with Uncle John.
Her next thought struck like a hammer. She couldn’t sail with Uncle John anyway. She was a girl. If only I were a boy, she thought. If only.
Mama was arguing with Papa and Uncle John, but she was losing. Even as strong-minded as Mama was, Papa usually got his way in the end.
“Maggie, it is settled. James sails on the tenth of September with John.” Papa crossed his arms. The decision was final.
Samantha piped up. “Uncle John, you said you had a plan to rescue Henry.”
Uncle John looked at Papa. Papa shook his head. “Mama and I will discuss his plan later. Alone.” He looked directly at Samantha.
After dinner the talk turned to the fighting between the Americans and the British. Samantha excused herself and went outside. She wandered aimlessly through the streets of Williamsburg. She gazed into the various shops. Her thoughts were not on what she saw but on James’s sailing with Uncle John. If only I weren’t a girl, I would get to go too, she thought, kicking a tree.
Her wanderings took her down Market Street to a long, open park. Looking down the park, she saw the Governor’s Palace. Goodbye to you, Lord Dunmore, she thought. And good riddance. You’ve caused me and my family enough trouble.