CHAPTER X.
A TERRIBLE NIGHT.
As Standish entered his own house the four men to whom he had spokenpassed on around the base of the hill, and reaching a tract of swampyland covered with reeds and rushes suitable for thatching, they set towork cutting them and binding in bundles ready for use. For some hoursthey wrought industriously, until Peter Browne, commander of theexpedition, straightened his back, stretched his cramped arms, andgazing at the sun announced,--
"Noontime, men. We'll e'en rest and eat our snack."
"Art thou o' mind to come and show me the pond where thou sawest wildfowl t' other day?" asked John Goodman, townsman and friend of Browne's.
"Ay, will I. Take thy meat in thy hand and come along," replied Browne."And we may as well finish our day there, sith this spot is well nighstripped. Margeson and Britteridge, when you have fed, you can bind therushes that are cut, and then come after us as far as a little pondbehind that hill, due west from here I should say. You'll find it easilyenough."
"Oh, ay, we'll find it," replied Margeson, a rough companion, but a goodworker. "Go on mates, and take your dogs with you, for they're smellingat the victuals enough to turn a man's stomach. Get out you beast!" andraising his foot he offered to kick Nero, who growled menacingly andshowed a formidable set of teeth.
"Have a care, man!" cried Browne angrily. "Meddle with that dog andhe'll make victual of thee before thou knowest what ails thee. 'T isever a poor sign when a man cannot abear dogs or children."
And the two friends, followed by the mastiff and spaniel, walked rapidlyaway. Two hours passed while Margeson and Britteredge, not greatly inhaste, finished their lunch and tied and stacked the reeds already cut.Then shouldering their sickles they leisurely skirted the hill in frontof them, and after a little search came upon the pretty sheet of waternow called Murdoch's Pond.
"This will be the place," said Margeson looking about him; "but where ispepperpot Browne?"
"Or his dog?" suggested Britteridge slyly.
"Whistle and the beasts will hear us if the men do not," said Margesonsuiting the action to the word. No answer followed, and both mentogether raised a yet shriller note, followed by shouts, halloos, andvarious noises supposed to carry sound to the farthest limits of space.But each effort died away in dim and distant echoes among the hills, andafter a while the men looked at each other in half angry discouragement.
"They've played us a trick," said Margeson; "they're hiding to mock atus, or they've gone back to the village some other way."
"Nay," replied Britteridge pacifically; "they're not such babes as toplay tricks like that. See, here are goodly reeds; let us cut and bindsome while we tarry, and Browne will be back anon."
Grumbling and unconvinced Margeson still complied, and for a whilelonger the two worked fitfully, pausing now and again to look aboutthem, to listen, or to shout.
At last, by tacit consent, both threw down their tools, and with slow,half-fearful gaze surveyed the scene. It was a dismal one. The sun hadreached the tops of the pines, and already the water lay in black shadowat their feet, rippled by the small, bitter breeze creeping in fromseaward, and stirring the sedge into faint whisperings and moanings;night birds, awaking in the depths of the forest, uttered querulouscries, and strange, vague sounds within the covert suggested prowlingbeast or savage creeping near and nearer.
"Ugh! 't is a grewsome spot as ever I saw," said Margeson as softly asif he feared to be overheard. "Certes the men have gone home some otherway, and the sun is setting. Let us be after them, say I."
"And say I," replied Britteridge readily, and without more words the twomen hurried away, and in a brief half hour presented themselves beforethe governor with news that their comrades were not to be found, eitherin the field or the town, and doubtless were lost in the forest orcaptured by the Indians.
Carver, ever as ready to act as to command, armed himself at once, andsummoning such men as were on shore led them to the wood, where bycalling, firing their pieces, and kindling torches they protracted thesearch far into the night, and when forced to give it up until daylightreturned to the Common house for united and fervent prayers andsupplications.
Early in the morning another search party, headed by Stephen Hopkins,with Billington as scout, entered the woods, but having traversed aradius of seven or eight miles returned at night weary, footsore, andwith no tidings.
News of the loss was carried on board the Mayflower, and a heavy senseof misfortune and danger settled upon the little community alreadydepressed by disease and want.
The men thus mourned were meantime in nearly as evil case as was feared.
Just before arriving at the pond, while munching their frugal lunch anddiscussing the prospect of game, they espied a splendid stag who hadevidently been disturbed while drinking, and stood with head erect anddilated eyes gazing upon the first white men he had ever seen, andperhaps foreboding the war of extermination they had come to wage on himand his.
"Oh for a piece!" cried Browne raising an imaginary gun to his shoulder."Seize him, Nero! Take him, good dog! Hi! Away, away!"
Nero needing no second invitation uttered a deep bay and set off,followed by the spaniel, yelping to the extent of her powers, while thetwo men, reckless of the fact that they were unarmed save with sickles,and could never hope to overtake the deer on foot, bounded after as fastas they could lay legs to the ground, nor paused until utterly blown andexhausted and the chase out of sight and hearing.
"Hah!" panted Browne flinging himself upon the ground; "I haven't beenbreathed like that since I ran in the foot-race at home in Yorkshirefive year agone. Phew!"
Goodman only replied by inarticulate groans and wheezes, and while heyet struggled for breath Nero came trotting back through the woods witha mortified and contrite expression pervading his body from eloquenteyes to abject tail, while Pike, as the spaniel was called, followed atsome distance with an affected carelessness of demeanor as if she wouldhave it clearly understood that she had been running solely for her ownpleasure, with no idea of chasing the deer. The men laughed, and pattingtheir favorites allowed them to lie and rest for some moments; then asthe air grew chill they rose and strolled in the direction, as theysupposed, of the clearing where they had left their comrades. But thewood was thick, and several swampy hollows induced detours; the sun wasobscured by the gathering snow clouds, and neither man was skilled inwoodcraft; while the dogs, roaming at pleasure, were more intent upontracing various scents of game than of finding the way home. Thus itcame that as darkness began to gather visibly among the crowdingevergreens, and the last tinge of sunlight was buried in thickeningclouds, the two men stopped and looked each other squarely in the face.
"Yes, John," said Browne reading the frightened eyes of his younger andless courageous companion. "Yes, lad, we're lost, and I doubt me mustpass the night in the woods."
"And we lack not only food but cloaks and weapons!" exclaimed Goodmanlooking forlornly about him, and stooping to pat Pike, who scentingdisaster in the air had returned whimpering to her master's side.
"If we could but find some deserted hut of the salvages, or some oftheir stored grain, or even the venison we disdained the other day,"suggested Browne.
"We've seen no trace of such a thing to-day," replied Goodmandisconsolately.
"Come on, then, and let us look while daylight lingers. Mayhap the dogswill lead us out if we put them to it. Hi, Nero! Home boy, home! Seek!"
Nero whimpered intelligently and trotted on for a mile or so, but withnone of that appearance of conviction which sometimes gives to ananimal's proceedings the force of an inspiration. Browne, who knew hisdog well, felt the discouragement of his movement, and finally stoppedabruptly.
"Nay, he knows no home in this wilderness and feels no call to one placemore than another. 'T is past praying for, John; we must e'en make upour minds to sleep here. Suppose that we lie down in the lee of thesenut-bushes, call the dogs to curl up beside us, and try to keep lifegoing till morning; no doubt
we shall find the way out then, or at leastsomewhat to eat."
"My blood is like ice already," murmured Goodman burying his hands inthe spaniel's curly hair.
"If we had but flint and steel to make a fire it were something!"exclaimed Browne. "What Jack-o'-Bedlams we were to set off thusunprovided. Catch me so again!"
"But we came out to cut thatch, not to chase deer and get lost in thewoods," suggested Goodman trying to laugh, though his teeth chatteredlike castanets.
"It will never do for thee to lie down as chilled as thou art,"exclaimed Browne anxiously. "I promised thy old mother I'd have an eyeto thee, and lo it is I that have led thee into this mischance! Whatshall I do for thee? I have it, lad! Sith it is too dark and rough towalk farther I'll try a fall with thee; there's naught warms a man'sblood like a good wrestling match. Come on, then!"
"I'm no match for thee, Peter, but here goes!" replied Goodmanstruggling to his feet, and the two men joined there in the darkness andthe wilderness in what might truly be called a "joust of courtesy,"moved only by mutual love and good will, for the event proved Goodman'smodesty well founded, and it was only a few moments before Browne,raising his slender opponent in his arms, set him down sharply two orthree times upon his feet, saying,--
"I'll not throw thee, for that might prove small kindness. Art warmer?"
But before Goodman could answer a snarling cry broke from the thicketclose at hand, and was answered by another and another voice until theair seemed filled with the cries of howling fiends.
Nero started to his feet, his eyes glowing, the hair bristling stifflyupon his neck, and with a fierce growl of defiance would have sprungforward had not his master seized him by the collar exclaiming,--
"Nay, fool! wouldst rush on thy destruction!"
"'T is the salvages!" stammered Goodman staring about him in thedarkness.
"Nay, 't is lions," replied Browne. "Hopkins saith they swarm abouthere. We must climb a tree, John. Here is a stout one; up with thee,man, as fast as may be!"
"But thou, Peter?" asked John clambering into the oak his friend pointedout.
"I cannot leave Nero. He'll be gone to the lion so soon as I quit myhold of his collar, and I'll not lose him but in sorer need than this.Here, take thou the spaniel and hold her to thee for warmth."
"Nay, I'll not be safe and thou in danger," replied the young manspringing down; "and, moreover, it is deadly cold perching in a tree."
"Well, then, we'll both stand on our guard here, and if the lions comewe'll e'en up in the tree hand over hand and leave the poor beasts totheir fate. Stamp thy feet on the ground and walk a few paces up anddown, John. I fear me thou 'lt swound with the cold like poor Tilley."
"I could not well be colder and live," replied Goodman faintly, as hetried to follow his friend's injunction.
The night crept on, with frost and snow and icy rain and heavy darkness,and still the wolves prowled howling around their prey, and the good dogheld them at bay with savage growls and deep-throated yelps of defiance,and his master, caring more for the humble friend he had reared andbrought over seas from his English home than for his own safety, heldhim all night by the collar, and the spaniel whimpered with cold andterror in her master's arms, and he, poor lad, suffered all the anguishof death as his feet and legs chilled and stiffened and froze like ice.A night not to be numbered in those men's lives by hours but years, anight of exhaustion, terror, and agony, a night hopeless of morning savethrough the exceeding mercy of God.
The gray light broke at last, however, and with it the wolves grew muteand slunk away, Nero quieted into obedience, and Browne carefullystraightening his own stiffened joints and rising to his feet lookedinto his comrade's face and shook his head.
"John, hearken to me, lad! We're in a sore strait but we're not dead,and daylight hath broken. Hold up thy face to the sky, man, and say 'IWILL win through this, so help me God!' and having said it, stick to it,even as Nero would have stuck to yon lion's throat until he was clawedaway in shreds. Come, try it, my lad, try it!"
Catching something of his friend's heroic spirit the poor fellow did ashe was bidden, but followed the brave resolve with a piteous look intothe other's face while he said,--
"My feet are froze, Peter; there is no feeling nor power in them. Butlead on, and I will follow if I must crawl."
"Tarry a bit till I see"--
And not pausing to finish his sentence Browne set himself to climb thetree beneath which they had passed the night. His cramped limbs andbenumbed fingers made this no easy task and more than once he was nearlosing his grasp and finishing the story by a headlong fall to thefrozen earth, but this danger was passed also, and presently hasteningdown he said,--
"Well, heavy though the clouds be I can see that east is that-a-way, andnot far from us rises a high hill. Come, then, lean on me; pass thy armaround my shoulders this fashion and I will help thee on. Then I willleave thee at the foot of the hill and myself climb it, and if need besome tree upon its summit. From that I shall surely catch sight of thesea, and knowing that we know all we need."
Goodman silently laid his arm around the stalwart shoulders presented tohim, but found himself too weak and spent for other reply, and Browne,passing an arm around his waist, looked anxiously into his face,saying,--
"Courage, lad, courage!"
"Ay, I WILL, by God's help!" murmured the poor lad as with agonyinexpressible he forced his stiffened limbs to follow one after theother.
The hill, more distant than Browne had supposed, was only reached aftertwo hours of agonizing effort, and at the foot Goodman sank speechlessand exhausted, his eyes closed, his parted lips white and drawn. Brownelooked at him despairingly, and calling the dogs made one crouch ateither side close to the heart and lungs of the prostrate body, and thenhastened on up the hill muttering,--
"'T is best kindness to leave him." Half an hour later he came crashingdown again through underbrush and fallen branches shouting,--
"Courage, John; courage, man! From the top of the biggest tree on thishill I've seen not only the sea, but our own harbor, and the old brigrocking away as peacefully as may be. Think of the good friends and thegood Hollands gin and the good fires aboard of her. Come, rouse up, lad!Once more pluck up thy courage and remember thy resolve! 'T is butanother hour or so and we are there!"
And yet the good fellow knew that not one but many hours lay beforethem, and that it was for him to find strength and endurance for both.
Once more his cheery voice and assured courage conveyed power foranother effort to the half-dead lad he almost carried in his arms, andso, with frequent pauses for rest and encouragement, the day wore past,until at last on the brow of Watson's Hill, Browne, his own strength allbut spent, cried tremulously,--
"Now God be praised! here is the harbor at our feet, yonder is theMayflower, below is the village, and but a few moments more will bringthee, John, to a bed and Surgeon Fuller's care, and me to a fire andsome boiling schnapps."
"God indeed be praised!" murmured Goodman rousing himself for the finaleffort; and so it came to pass that just at sunset the two crossed thebrook and came hobbling down The Street amid a clamorous and joyfulcrowd of friends who lifted Goodman from his feet, nor paused until theybrought them both into the house where abode Carver and also Fuller, theshrewd and crabbed physician and philanthropist. Here Goodman was laidupon a bed, his shoes cut from his feet, and in a few moments thegovernor on one side and the doctor on the other were vigorously rubbingthe frozen limbs with alcohol.
"Shall I lose my feet, Doctor?" asked the patient feebly.
"Lose them!" cried the doctor indignantly. "Nay! what use would afootless man be to the Adventurers who sent thee out? 'T were but aknave's trick for thee to shed thy feet first thing, and I'll see to itthou dost not."
"And that's a comfortable saying, Master Fuller," said Browne standinganxiously by.
"Thou here, Peter Browne!" exclaimed the doctor glancing up under hisshaggy brows. "What art doing here, blockhead? Get thee int
o bed besidea good fire, and bid Hopkins mix thee a posset such as he would have forhimself. Be off, I say!"
Standish of Standish: A Story of the Pilgrims Page 11