by G. A. Henty
“I think the plan is a very good one, indeed, Reuben; and I will follow it to the letter. When think you may I begin to expect to hear news of you?”
“It is difficult to say, seeing that we know neither the distance we may have to sail, nor the difficulties we may have to meet with, nor the winds and currents of those regions. I should say fifteen months at the earliest; and if double that time passes, without your hearing aught, then I should say you may give up all hope of ever seeing us again.”
“I am disposed even now, Reuben, to regret that I ever embarked in this venture—not, as you surely know, from any fear of losing the money that I have put into it, but from the risk that will be run by you and the lad Roger, who are both very dear to me.”
“Whatever comes, you must not blame yourself in that matter, Diggory. You have only yielded to my solicitations, and if we go to our death it is our choosing, and none of thine.”
“Should the Swan come back without you, Reuben—as may possibly be, for if there be any danger you are sure to expose yourself in the front of it—Roger shall be as a son to me; and shall either in time have a ship to command, and a share in her, as thou hast; and he shall come in our business, when he has had enough of adventure at sea, and is willing to settle down on land.”
Reuben wrung his cousin’s hand silently, and then said:
“Let us take one more glass of strong water, Diggory, and then get a few hours’ sleep before morning. It is past midnight now, and I must be up by four; for at that hour the boat must go off for the first batch of our new hands.”
Day broke, just as the last batch of men were brought on board. As soon as these had gone below the whistle was sounded, the old crew came up on deck, and the preparations for making sail commenced. The anchor was hove short, the lashings of the sails were loosened, the flags run up to the mast heads, the last casks and bales lowered into the hold, the hatches put on, and the decks washed down.
Before these preparations were all complete, a little group was seen, standing at the end of the wharf.
“There is your good wife, Diggory, and the girls. She has kept her word to be up, betimes, to see the last of us.”
At last all was ready, and Diggory shook hands with Reuben, and turned to Roger, when the captain said:
“The lad can go in charge of the boat that takes you ashore, Diggory, and just say another word of parting to them there.”
In five minutes, Roger stood on the wharf.
“I cannot wait, Cousin Mercy,” he said, “for all is ready for hoisting the anchor; but my father said I might just come ashore, for one more goodbye.”
“May God protect you, Roger,” Mistress Mercy said, as she folded him in a motherly embrace. “We shall all pray for you, daily and nightly, until you return. Goodbye, Roger! Don’t imperil your life needlessly, but be prudent and careful.”
“For your sake, Dorothy,” he whispered, as he kissed her.
“Yes, for my sake, Roger,” she said softly.
Agnes hung round his neck, crying loudly, and her mother had to unclasp the child’s fingers.
“God bless you all,” said Roger hoarsely, and then ran down the steps, and leaped into the stern of the boat.
When he gained the deck of the Swan, the boat was hoisted in, and the men began to heave round the windlass. As soon as the anchor was up, the sails were sheeted home; and the Swan, yielding to the light breeze off the land, began to make her way through the water. Roger, from the poop, waved his cap in reply to the signals of farewell from shore; and then, running down into the waist, busied himself with the work of the ship, until they were too far away from the land for the figures there to be any longer visible.
The rest of the crew now came on deck, and all were mustered in watches. Reuben Hawkshaw, standing on the edge of the poop, then said a few words to them.
“Men,” he said, “I dare say there is some wonderment among you, in finding yourselves so strong a crew, and at seeing the Swan so well provided with guns, and with all other necessaries. You will learn, in good time, all about it; but at present it is best, for many reasons, that you should know nothing about the matter. We may be overhauled by a king’s ship; we may meet with foul weather, and have to put back into port; and a loose tongue might do us grievous damage. It is enough for you to know that where the ship is going you are going; that she is stored with provisions of such quality as was never put on board a trader before; that everything will be done for your comfort. As to myself, I am content to know that I have a crew of eighty-five stout Devonshire lads under me, and that we can give an account of ourselves, whosoever may meet us. Those who have sailed with me before know that I do my best for my men, that there will be no harsh words or violence on board this ship, save they are well merited. Discipline, order, and obedience I will have, and that strictly. Above all, I will have no grumbling. A grumbling crew is a useless crew, and a sick crew; while a cheerful crew can meet, with confidence, whatever befalls them; but I think not that I have any grumblers on board, since every man has been carefully chosen. A merry heart goes all the way, as the saying has it, and I want this crew to be a happy one.
“So far as the order of the ship permits it, you shall have every indulgence. At first you will find yourselves pressed for space, but you will soon eat and drink room for yourselves. The stores to be first used are all down in the fore hold, and I reckon that, in three weeks or a month, that will be cleared; and there will then be room for all to lie in shelter, when we are in harbor; and the present accommodation is sufficient for the watch below, providing all sleep quietly, and have good conscience.
“And now, to work. While you get everything tidy and in good shipshape, the cooks will get to work at the coppers; and I can promise you a good breakfast, washed down by sound cider, such as you had last night.”
The men gave a cheer, and were soon at work, under the direction of their officers. It mattered little to them where they were going, or what was before them. They had guessed that it was no ordinary voyage they were going to undertake; but the thought that, wherever it was, they were to be well kept and well cared for, satisfied them mightily; and if fighting were to come into their way, so much the better. With such a crew, they could well take their part against any enemy they were likely to meet.
In the poop of the Swan there was a small saloon, extending across the stern, and two cabins on either side of the passage leading to it. These were occupied by the captain, the two mates, and Roger; and they took their meals together in the saloon. In a cabin underneath this, the three petty officers and twenty of the sailors lived together, the main body of the crew occupying the raised forecastle and the cabin underneath it. The galley was forward, built up against the forecastle, and thus sheltered from heavy seas which might sweep the waist of the vessel. Four small cannon were mounted on the poop, two on the forecastle, the six larger guns were in the waist—three on either side.
The breeze freshened as the Swan drew out from under the shelter of the land, and by midday the shore had faded from the sight. The crew had by this time settled down in their places, and sat in groups on deck, some overhauling the contents of their sea bags, looking over their clothes, and setting to, with needle and thread, to make such repairs as were needed. Some of the new hands were leaning over the side, wishing heartily that they were on shore again. Those who had made voyages were talking to their companions about the various ports at which they might touch, and the sights they would behold.
All, save those suffering from the effects of the sea, were in high good temper. As much fresh beef as was like to keep good till eaten had been brought on board. The wind set in, the next morning, freshly from the northeast; and with all sail set, the Swan ran gaily before it.
“Would that this wind would blow, without a break, for another month,” Reuben Hawkshaw said, as he sat at dinner with the two mates and Roger.
Standing and Pengarvan looked up quickly; but the latter, without a question, again be
took himself to feeding. Standing, however, laid down his jackknife in astonishment.
“A month, Captain Hawkshaw? I should have thought four or five days of this would give us ample westing, and that after that a westerly breeze, somewhat from the north, would suit us best.”
“Ay, ay, you would think so, Standing; but then you see, you know not to within a good many points where our journey tendeth. Wait till I have finished my dinner, for man cannot talk and eat together, with comfort. Then, when my boy has removed the trenchers, I will tell you, over an extra mug of cider, what all this is about.”
The meal lasted for some time longer, for Reuben Hawkshaw was a good trencherman, and one not given to hurrying himself, unless there was need; and neither of the other men were far behind their chief, in the matter of the stowage of victuals. But at last the meal was done, and the trenchers were carried off. The earthenware mugs were again filled with cider, and then Reuben Hawkshaw—sitting at one end of the table, with Roger facing him, and the mates one on either hand—threw himself back in his settle, which he used in right of captaincy, while the others contented themselves with stools, and began.
“I had not thought, comrades, to broach this matter until we were down in the latitude of the African Straits; but seeing that the wind has taken us in charge, I see no reason for longer keeping silent. You, who have both sailed with me for years, must have known right well that this was no ordinary voyage—the number of men I have taken on board, the care I have had as to the stores, and the great number of water casks, must have told you that. You have asked no questions, and I did not expect that you would.”
“Why should we?” James Standing growled. “It mattered naught to us where we went, as we knew we should hear, in good time.”
Pengarvan said nothing, but he nodded, to show that he agreed with the first mate.
“Well, men, our intent is this: I see not why the Spaniards should have all the good things to themselves, and I purpose to go a-trading with the natives, down in these new islands of theirs.”
An exclamation of surprise broke from James Standing, but Pengarvan only nodded again.
“But this is not all,” Reuben went on. “So far, the Spaniards have not gained much store of gold from these islands; but I have learned that, among the natives, there is talk of a rich nation lying somewhere farther to the west, where gold and riches of all sorts abound. So far the Spaniards have not found it, having their hands pretty well full. They have sailed down the land to the south and, as you know, Master Cabot sailed from the north, down almost to the latitude of these islands; but due west no man has sailed yet, or if he has, has never returned to tell of it.”
“Well, Captain Reuben,” James Standing said, “as I said before, it makes no difference to me where we go. If the Spaniards catch us there, they will cut our throats to a surety, if they can; but if you are ready to take your chance of that, I have nothing against it. I feel as if I am taken aback a bit, just now, as it comes new to me—my own fancy being that you intended to trade with the Turkish ports and islands, and had taken a strong crew on board to beat off any pirates that they might meet.”
“And you, Pengarvan?”
“It is as I expected, Captain. I thought that you did not bring the Spaniard on board at Cadiz, and sit plying him with wine, and talking to him by the hour, for nothing. So when I saw what was being done on board the Swan, it came to me that you intended to try a venture in the Spanish main.”
“Here is a map which I got from the Spaniard,” Reuben said, laying it out upon the table. “Here, you see, all the great islands are marked in their places, with their ports and the Spanish settlements. There are besides these, the Spaniard said, numbers of small ones not marked on the chart. In these large islands, Cuba and Hispaniola, the Spaniards have made themselves masters of the people, and reduced them to slavery; and there would be no touching at these with either safety or profit. The small ones have been only occasionally visited, and with these we may do trade.
“Here is the line of the mainland, to the south of the islands. You see it runs along as far as the easternmost of them, and then turns away to the south; while from the north the mainland comes down well nigh to Cuba. One reason, the Spaniard said, why they have not sailed west to find out this land of gold, is that there is a great current, which runs in between the islands and the southern land, and sweeps out again with great force between the Bahamas and this northern land; and that they fear being swept away by it, and getting driven into whirlpools; and moreover they say that there are great storms to be encountered, in the waters to the west.
“Now the fact that there is a current into, and another current out of, this western sea, seems to show that there is no exit to the west; and that the water that comes in at the south finds itself in a great bay, and so is forced to pass out to the north. How great this bay may be I know not, but surely it cannot be too great to search. At any rate it is clear to me that, somewhere to the west, these two great lands that we see to the north and south join. Now that men who have, with much toil and risk, made a discovery of a new land should claim it, for their king, seems to me fair and right; but not that they should claim sole traffic, with lands of whose very existence they know nothing; and therefore, although it is true that the pope has given these western islands to Spain, I see not how he can give to them land not, as yet, discovered.
“If there is, as the natives in the islands say, a land lying somewhere to the west, where gold is abundant, I see no reason why, if we are first there, we should not gather great stores. The bales and boxes, that were brought round from London, contain a great quantity of all the things that are, as the Spaniard told me, most prized by the natives. Glass beads of all sorts and kinds, vessels of brass, iron hatchets and arrowheads, hawk bells, mirrors, and trinkets. The venture is, I admit, a perilous one; but if we succeed, every man on board will have a share in the profit.”
Reuben then explained the arrangements he had made, with the owners, for the division of such treasure as they might bring home.
“That is a fair proposal,” the first mate said; “and I doubt not that all on board will gladly fall in with it. If we succeed, we shall set every tongue in England wagging; and there will be plenty of others, I warrant, who will be ready to follow our example.”
“I had intended,” Reuben went on, “to sail as far as the straits; then to head for the island of Madeira and, when within sight of it, to head away west-sou’-west. But if we carry this wind with us, we will make straight for the islands, and thereby shall escape the risk of being seen by vessels coming and going, as they all follow a track south of Madeira. We can make a good fight with any Spaniard that falls foul of us, and are as likely to take him as he is to capture us; but I would fain keep clear of them, if I can, since we go to trade and not to fight.
“Now I think you had best give a hint of the matter in hand to our old crew, all of whom we can depend upon; as indeed, I hope we can upon all, though as yet their mettle has not been tried. Take them aside singly, and open the matter to them. In a few days I shall tell the rest; but the matter will go more fairly, and easily, if we have a proportion of them ready to throw up their caps, and shout.”
“Aye, aye, Captain Reuben. One bellwether will carry a whole flock after it, but I fear not that any will want to hold back. It is just the adventure that will suit a brave man’s spirit—plenty to see, plenty to do, the chance of a fight, and the chance of a fortune. I should like to know what one could want, better than that. Besides, all are in high feather at the quality of the food, which they say the like of was never known on shipboard before; and that goes a long way. It is the fasting man who kicks. The full one is content, however matters go.”
Pengarvan had not again opened his lips. He nodded occasionally, and that was all his captain expected of him; but the fact that he had guessed the destination of the ship, added to the esteem which Reuben Hawkshaw had for his second mate.
Three days lat
er Reuben Hawkshaw called the crew together, and informed them of their destination. He possessed the rough eloquence best suited for the class he was addressing, and carried his hearers with him. He spoke as if the idea, that any of them could shrink from undertaking such an adventure, had not entered his mind; but assumed that they were the most fortunate of men, in having such a chance offered to them.
“You do not yet know,” he said, “how great a piece of good fortune has befallen you, by being chosen to sail with me on this voyage. Had the news been as much as whispered, in Plymouth, I could have gathered a thousand volunteers in an hour. You all know how careful have been the preparations for the voyage, how strongly we are manned, how well we are armed, what stores of excellent provisions and what casks of good cider and ale are in the hold.
“Now I am going to tell you what all this is for. We are going, lads, to get gold; and if we succeed, as I doubt not we shall, each man on his return will, in addition to his wages, have a share in the spoil—such a share as will, I hope, make him comfortable for life.”
A loud cheer broke from the men, as they pressed forward eagerly to listen.
“I have learned, lads,” he said, “from a Spaniard who has been out there, of a land abounding with gold, lying to the west of the Spanish Islands. As yet, none of them have ventured thither; and I mean that we shall be the first to reap the harvest. Why should these Spaniards keep every good thing to themselves? We are as good sailors as they are, and better; as good men, and better. Therefore, I say, we will have a share of the prizes.
“We shall touch on our way at some of the islands, for wood and water and fruit and vegetables. There are plenty of them where we can find these, without meeting with a Spaniard. If we do meet with one, and he tries to interfere with us, so much the worse for him.