To the Far Blue Mountains (1976) s-2

by Louis L'Amour

  One of those who had declared for Hanberry said, "And if we've no mind to work?"

  I smiled. "I hope, then, that you're a good fisherman. There are fish to eat, and shellfish, too, by the signs along the shore. So try your luck. Those who do not help will not eat."

  He shifted his feet,. glowering at me.

  The men available I turned to on Duval's ship. We dumped three guns over the side to right her a bit, although it did but little, then we opened her hatches and went to work.

  The several ships Duval had looted had netted him little, yet there was much powder and shot, a great store of lead, some foodstuffs the water had damaged already, but much else still of value.

  When we had gathered much of it on deck, Pike took several of the men and warped Hanberry's galleon alongside. Rigging a sling and tackle, we began transferring the loot from Duval's Haydn to the galleon.

  It was not a rich cargo, as such cargoes go, but the powder, shot, and lead were worth much more than their weight in gold to me.

  Finally, we lowered Duval from his pine tree. He stared at me with such hatred as I have rarely seen. "I'll have your heart out for this!"

  "Hoist him aloft," I told Blue.

  Duval grabbed at my arm. "No! My God, man, you can't do that!"

  "Then keep a civil tongue in your head."

  Turning to Blue, I said, "Put him in the brig on his own ship, and put a man on watch. If he tries to escape while you do so, shoot him."

  At last I stood on the beach, facing Hanberry.

  "You have the Haydn. If you have resolution enough you can patch her up and sail her out of here."

  He stared at me, choked with fury. By the rules of war, his own ship was mine, and his cargo also. Yet I promised myself that if I could find the fluyt and retake her, then I'd return his ship to him with those of his crew I had aboard.

  We left him there upon the shore.

  On the afterdeck I met with Pike and Blue. "You know Handsel best. What do you think he would do?"

  "I have been thinkin' of that," Pike said. "He'd but twelve men aboard ... not all of them able. He can handle the fluyt with the number, but he'll not be able to fight her. Nor will he return to Newfoundland, for well he knows they'd be askin' of me there, and of Blue here. I think he would sail on down the coast."

  We talked of it until the day was gone and the stars were out, trying each possibility and the arguments against. Finally, I sent Pike below for sleep and held the watch alone.

  She was a neat craft, this Flemish galleon, not large but easily handled as were the Dutch craft. With so many ships upon the water, the Dutch had learned they must make their ships easier to handle, and had done so. They were cracking fine seamen, the Dutch.

  Midnight was long past when I awakened Pike.

  The clouds had cleared away and the stars were bright in the sky. There was a mild sea running, and enough wind to carry canvas without worry. We were making good time at last, heading south and a little west. At this point the coast of America slanted away to the south-west, and I knew from the charts there were scattered islands off the coast.

  And somewhere far down the coast, without me, was Abigail, in what kind of weather I knew not.

  But first I must find Lila and free her ... or them!

  Chapter 13

  Now being at sea again, and south-bound, my spirit was at rest, for though much trouble might come, I had my destination before me.

  The continent lay west of us, just beyond the horizon, and we kept a man aloft at all times, alert to see any vessel that might hove into sight. But mostly we looked for the fluyt.

  It was not in me to go a-pirating, nor was it large in the minds of my crew, for well they knew we had a goodly store below decks and if a port was made with what we had, all should do well.

  Soon we sailed closer to the shore. Twice we sighted small boats, but they fled on seeing us, taking their cargoes of fish into shallow waters where we could not follow. Yet one fellow was close enough that we hailed him.

  He came alongside, wary of us, but curious. I traded some line and canvas for fish, and asked about the fluyt.

  "Aye, see her we did! She's lying up in the lee of a high, rocky island a half-day's sail to the south, or was before daylight. We saw her before, and not likely to forget it, either, with a great, tall woman at the wheel, hair flying in the wind!"

  "A woman?"

  "You think me a liar? Well, I am neither a liar nor drunk ... a woman, I say!

  And such a woman as you never saw!"

  So now it seemed we were close, and all my troubles might be resolved at once, yet I was not one to count money before it was paid me. I bade good-bye to the fisherman and we had up some canvas and took our way south, with me sore afraid the fluyt would have flown before we had sight of her. Yet for once good fortune was with me, and we rounded into the cove to see her lying there, waiting.

  We came in close enough and let go our anchor, and a boat to the water almost as quickly.

  She was at the rail when I came alongside.

  "Is it you then?" she asked. "Full long enough you took!"

  "What in blazes happened? Where's Peter Handsel?"

  "He's below ... confined in the rope-locker. The crew liked my cooking better than his sailing, so I've been sailing-master and cook as well."

  She looked closely at the Flemish craft. "A good ship," she decided, "but I like this one better."

  We wasted no time with further talk. If it pleased the Lord that I come well home again to Raleigh's land, I'd be happy, and if it were soon, happier still.

  It was true I had done well with my fishing in troubled waters, but more by good fortune than by my own efforts, although I had not hesitated when it was time to act, and sometimes that is the whole face of it.

  With Pike and Blue in the cabin, I spoke them fair. We'd rich cargo below, and I'd taken them to it, and so I told them I should take the powder, lead, round-shot, and the beads and trade goods. The richest of the cloth they might have.

  So I divided the cargo there, and they had no word to say against it, and my portion was shifted to the fluyt. Much of what I wanted most for Raleigh's land they could easily come by in Newfoundland, but the cloth was a rich thing.

  "And the Flemish ship, then?" Pike asked.

  "I give her to you," I said. "Sail, sell, or sink her, she's yours, but if you decide to sail her, come along down to Raleigh's land with such cargo as I am taking, trade goods for the savages, and powder, shot, and some food for us, and we'll make trade together."

  "I never thought to have a ship nor become a merchant," Pike said, "but I shall do both."

  So we parted there, clasping hands at the last, and I went about the galleon and shook each hand and thanked each man for his help, and we parted, one sailing south and one north with the first light.

  Some of my men went with Pike, and some of Pike's with me, I taking only those who dared the new land.

  We sighted three ships that gave us chase, but we, perceiving their intent, clapped on all sail and fled away to the westward, and having the wind of them we were well away and they gave up the chase, not knowing what we were or whether worth their effort.

  Dearly now, I needed sight of the land. My charts were out upon the table, but what use a chart without a sighting? We had come from Newfoundland over to the coast, and followed it down some distance, but not nearly so far as Raleigh's land.

  So we edged in close, and I caught a cape in my glass that had a familiar look, then a rivermouth and a queer tuft of trees, all marked on one of my charts. So I made us several days sail to the north of my thin sandy islands that divided the sounds from the sea at the place I sought.

  Meanwhile, Lila made nothing of her story. She had barricaded herself in the galley with the keys to the storeroom in her pocket, and denied anyone entry or food until Handsel was in shackles and the key in her hands. Meanwhile she set to work to cook, letting the aroma of her cooking drift over the ship.


  It has been said there were iron men aboard the wooden ships, and well there should have been-and for the most part they needed iron stomachs as well, to handle the cooking. Salt meat as hard as iron and biscuit full of weevils. Lila had cooked much for strong, hearty men and knew the weapon she possessed.

  Two days it needed, and then they had brought her the key, led by a man named John Tilly, a fine seaman who liked not Handsel nor his kind. Although young, he had already been long at sea.

  I was on the afterdeck, watching the sea, my glass ready to pick up any unusual thing upon the far waters, when Tilly came to me.

  "Captain," he said, "we've a man aboard to whom you must speak. His name is Jago, and he comes from Anglesey as does the lass."

  Something in his manner was odd, so I asked him, "Who is this Jago? Does he have a complaint?"

  "None at all! From the first he stood beside me for taking Handsel. He is a fine seaman, Captain, and a good fighting man, but there is a strangeness on him at times and now there's a fear on him."

  "A fear?"

  "Of the waters ahead. He knows the coast you speak of, the place where we go. He has been in both the sounds and up one of the rivers, but it is the sea itself that he fears, the sea that lies off the coast of the place called Raleigh's land."

  Of sailor's tales there is no end, nor of enchanted islands, vanishing ships, or mysterious places in the sea, and of this we who are of the Celtic race have understanding, so I had this Jago up to the deck and he was no kind of a priestly man, nor a poet, either, but a strong fellow of middle size with a square head upon a solid neck, and two fine, strong hands.

  "You are Jago?" I said.

  "So they have said since I was old enough to listen, and I've no choice but to believe them. However, one name is as good as another, and if you've another you like, call me it and I will come."

  "Jago is a fine name, and it pleases me. Do you know these waters, Jago?"

  "No, nor any man for long. They be not twice the same. But you are safe enough this week. Next you will be south too far. You must steer clear of fogs and land on no strange islands. You know there are islands?"

  "I do. I spoke of them with a friend of mine named Peter Tallis. They were discovered by Juan de Bermudez in 1515, and are said to be enchanted isles."

  "Well they could be. Where else does coral be found so far north? Where else so many dangerous reefs? Enchanted the isles may be, but they be a hell for mariners, with their ugly reefs rising unexpected-like from the depths.

  "There and south of there is the sea of which I speak. Beware it. Many ships have vanished ... There's an opening there sometimes, it comes and goes, sometimes it is in fog, and sometimes a spot of bright sunlight, but those who sail through never come back. Beware of a day when there's no fish around, for then it's to open, and well they know it and off they swim."

  "I'll take your advice, Jago. Now tell me, do you know a stretch of coast with long thin outer islands? Banks that form a natural breakwater for two great sounds into which rivers flow?"

  "I know the place. 'Tis west and south ... two days more, I think."

  "You've been there?"

  "Twice, and once on a Spanish ship. I was a prisoner of them but spoke their tongue and am a good Catholic, so they used me as a seaman and I had freedom, of a sort ... until I escaped. If it is there you'll go, I can be taking you, and to whichever river you wish, for each has a different smell. One smells of freshness and the mountains, and two of swamps, and one of fish."

  Far into the night I studied my charts.

  It would be my second voyage to the sounds, and pausing in my study of the maps I thought again of that buried hulk in which I had taken shelter and where I had fought the alligator.

  Whose ship might that have been? And what of its crew? If ships disappeared in these waters, as Jago said, then men vanished also. The Roanoke colony and Grenville's men ... gone.

  Many were the tales that came from the sea, but I had little faith in enchanted isles or haunted ships or the like. Those were sailor's tales to be told in port to goggle-eyed landsmen, and rarely believed of themselves. Yet ... what Jago had told, Jago believed, and he was a no-nonsense sort of man, and a good seaman.

  Many in the England of our good Queen Bess thought of this land as unknown, and indeed, much of it was, but where there are riches to be had, men will go, and the ships of Gosnold, Weymouth, Newport, and others had already cruised the coast. To the north were the ships of the French, and Cabot had sailed here, and Verrazzano, Corte-Real, and many another.

  All the knowledge we had of such places was from the few men who could write and keep records, and how many could write? Among my crew, there were but three who could write, and if something happened to us, then what record could be left by the others?

  I studied even my secret ones, which had far more detail, and I made a chart of my own from memory of what I had seen.

  My plans must be simple, to be augmented with time. First, to find Tempany and Abigail, second to establish a trading post, third to cultivate friendship with the Indians, and fourth, to establish a base deeper into the country from which we could explore toward the mountains and to which I could retreat if a British ship with warrants for my arrest should come.

  After a bit, I slept, awakening to go on deck for the morning watch. We had hove to during the night, simply taking in our sails and drifting.

  Jago was on watch when I came on deck. "It will be a fair day, Cap'n, a fair day." He glanced at me. "Will we be making a landfall today?"

  "Aye." I glanced toward the clouds that lay low along the horizon, and nodded to indicate them. "What do you make of them, Jago?"

  "Cap'n," his voice shook a bit, "we'd better head in toward land. That's no natural cloud."

  "Hail the men on deck," I said, "and shake out some canvas. Put a good man on the whipstaff for we'll be looking for our opening in the outer banks."

  Taking my glasses, I studied the cloud. It seemed neither nearer nor farther off. The sky above was blue and lovely, but the white clouds, possibly a fog, lay close along the face of the sea, and once inside that cloud we should be able to go neither north, south, east, nor west.

  The cloud hung there, turning slowly lighter as the sun arose. How easily, I thought, when the mind is prepared can one begin to believe!

  It was only a cloud ... a bit of fog that would clear with the day.

  Only it did not.

  There was little wind, and we moved but slowly. I looked again at the fog bank and it seemed closer. Jago was staring at it, obviously frightened. With my glass I lifted a strong dark line, like a thread. Land!

  "Aye," Jago said, "and none too soon."

  Lila came on deck and walked to the rail and looked astern. As she stood there the fog seemed to thin toward the center and dimly we seemed to see an island.

  A mirage? My chart showed no island there. It suddenly seemed clearer. Were those houses? Temples? I walked to the afterrail and stared.

  "See it, Cap'n?" said Jago. "See? Look, but never speak of it, men will think you daft, as they have thought me. Look ... something moves! Do you see it?"

  Indeed, I did, or thought I did. I pointed my glass toward it again, and the figures leaped at me. Men ... and women, all in strange costumes ... temples of a sort not seen before ...

  "Captain," Tilly was speaking, "we're closing in on the shore. There seems to be an opening yon."

  With an effort, I took my eyes away and looked shoreward. A long white beach, gleaming in the sun, a sandy shore stretching north and south as far as the eye could reach ... and yes, there seemed to be an opening.

  "Jago?" I said. He did not turn and I spoke again, more sharply. "Jago!"

  "Aye, aye."

  Indicating the opening, I said, "Do you know that one?"

  "I do that. She's shoal, Cap'n, but with the lead we can go in yonder."

  He looked back over his shoulder, and I over mine. The opening in the mist had closed, the mist was th
inning, the fair vision of a city was gone.

  Was it a mirage? For a moment it had seemed we looked into another world, as through a magic window or door.

  Was that where the vanished ships had gone? Through that door? Into that mirage?

  Chapter 14

  Cautiously, using the lead, I took the fluyt into the passage between the sandy islands, using only such sail as needed for steerage way. If we ran aground here and a storm blew up we would be at the mercy of wave and wind, and all my great hopes might vanish in what followed. If I ran aground, I wished it to be not too forcefully, that we might the easier escape.

  Lowering a boat, we let it proceed before us, and thus found our way through and into deeper water, when we took the boat back aboard once more. Remembering my one-time meeting here with my old enemy Bardle, I had two guns prepared and gun crews standing by.

  Blue, having the sharpest eyes, was posted aloft to look out for ships and savages, or any smoke which might hint of activity ashore.

  Now that we were so close, Lila was silent, eyes wide with apprehension, fearful her mistress might have been killed, drowned, or otherwise lost. I scoffed at this, and kept still my own fears, for better than she I knew what dangers the country might hold.

  Calling John Tilly aft, I told him I wanted the men to go below, two at a time, and arm themselves each with a cutlass, and then I wanted muskets charged and kept in a rack conveniently placed inside the door to the main cabin where they would be ready to hand.

  Worried, I paced the afterdeck. I had armed myself with my sword as well as a brace of pistols, yet it was not of weapons I thought, for indeed, they were but a precaution. Captain Tempany was a fine seaman, and he'd a good crew aboard ... but supposing he had been overhauled and forced back by a Queen's ship because of his connection with me?

  What if pirates had taken his ship? Or storms?

  Hour by hour my anxiety grew, and still no sign of the ship.

  Darkness came, and rather than venture on we let go the anchor to wait for daybreak.