Kitabı oku: «In Search of Mademoiselle», sayfa 14
“These men with long garments,” they said, “came among us to teach us of their God and to make us worship him. And they tell us that we must hate the Devil. Their soldiers kill our children and steal our wives, and they are cowards. For us, if this is what their God teaches them, then we believe that the Devil is the best. We adore him. He makes men brave.”
We sailed on thus from island to island, taking water and fresh provisions where we could, capturing many sea-turtles so big that the flesh of one of them would serve for sixty people at a meal, the shells being of such a great size that large men could lie in them, and so hard of surface that an arquebus ball would not go through. When we reached Cape San Antonio, which is at the end of the Island of Juanna, we found a body of Spaniards drawn up on to the beach to dispute our landing. These we defeated after a brisk battle and procured the water of which we were in need.
But during all this time no word had passed the lips of De Gourgues as to the object of our voyage. No slaves had been captured, save the one man who had fought his way to the deck of the Vengeance. When the men had wished to go into the interior of the islands in search of gold, which the Caribs said was plentiful, the Chevalier restrained them, saying that the time was not yet and that their profit would all come in good season. But he could not much longer conceal his mission. Murmurs again arose among the men of all of the ships; and though they went willingly enough about their duties, it was plain that the desire to get upon shore could not much longer be restrained. For discontent upon ship-board is often less pleasant to live with than ripe mutiny. So one day when we had arrived at a point not eighty leagues from San Augustin, De Gourgues called the companies of all three vessels upon the decks of the Vengeance. The momentous time had come. We knew not how much sympathy or how little they would have with our cause and De Brésac could not conceal his impatience. If De Gourgues had any doubts or misgivings as to the matter, he did not show them, but stood before the soldiers and sailors upon the deck at the main mast, an expression of great calmness and seriousness upon his features.
“Gentlemen and brothers,” he began slowly, “the time has arrived that you should know why we, men of France, have come so far and braved so many dangers under the shadow of the Western sun. The God who rules the raging of the waters, who is the God of all men upon the sea, has brought us safely to this day upon a most just and righteous mission. A foul crime has been committed against our beloved France, mes braves. A year has passed and no hand has been raised to cleanse our fair Standard of the trail of blood which the Spaniards have drawn across it.”
At first the men listened in silence. Then as they comprehended, they looked at one another and the name of San Augustin passed the lips of several. Muttered curses broke from them here and there. But in a moment even these few murmurs of anger were stifled and borne away by the flood of the fiery Gascon’s eloquence, as he told them in his own way the story of the massacres at Fort Caroline and on the sand-spit. As he went on his voice arose in excitement until it rang out fair and true like a clarion-call in battle, and his eyes were illumined with the light of his inspiration, as he painted the worst horrors of those scenes as I have not dared to paint them here. He told his men that this alone was his purpose, and that he had chosen them from among hundreds of others because they were the men who could best defeat twice their own number. And knowing that the duty before them would be attended with great travail he knew that he should not fail in the hour of danger.
“What disgrace,” he cried at last, “if such an insult should pass unpunished! What glory will there come to us, if we avenge it! To this venture I have devoted my fortune. The vessels upon which you float are mine. The morions and the pieces on your backs are mine! Your weapons, – mine! All mine to avenge your soldier brothers! From the first I have relied upon you, even when you did not trust me. I have thought you jealous enough of your country’s glory to sacrifice life itself in a cause like this! Was I deceived? Must the bodies of your soldier brothers swing like thieves from these wild fir trees, the brand of shame upon them, food for crows and vultures? Will no one cut them down? My men, I am here to show you the way, – I will be always at your head, – I will bear the brunt of danger. Will you refuse to follow me?”
Never had I heard such an impassioned voice, and the spirits of the men, doubtful and restless at first, burst from a spark into a flame at his words, and at his last appeal their response rose in a roar that seemed to shake the firmament.
“A la mort! To the death will we follow you!”
It was a wonderful scene. No English company would have changed so quickly to the fury of enthusiasm that possessed them. They threw their caps into the sea and began heaving up the anchor. Many of them crowded around our Captain, begging that he would take them to Fort San Mateo and lead them at once. It was with great difficulty that he could get them to listen to him; but at last, quiet having been in a certain measure restored, he told them that they would sail through the Bahama Channel – which was most treacherous – at the full of the moon. It would be folly to take any risk at this time, when a mistake would bring to naught the planning of months.
“The time will come soon enough, my friends, for there is much to be done. To-night or the night after, if the weather be fair, we shall sail. In a week, with Gods help, Ribault will be avenged.”
CHAPTER XXI.
WE FORM AN ALLIANCE
That night as we slowly crept up the Bahama Channel under the resplendent tropic moon, I told my story to De Gourgues. He heard it throughout, saying no word but sighing now and then, his melancholy eyes looking down the glimmering streak, into which we were sailing as into a glory. That this strange man had once been loved, and had passionately loved in return, I did not doubt; for despite his ugliness of visage there was that in his expression which would command the adoration of women, who often reckon deeper than by mere lineaments of feature; and softly illumined as he was by the pale and ghostly translucence of the night, I thought no more of his ugliness, but of his soul. For he was transfigured, and looked in his calmness even as he looked in all the majesty of passion, inspired and of this world a thing apart.
When I had done, he put his hand upon my shoulder, saying,
“It is not often that Englishmen love as do you, my friend. Build not your hopes too high, for you have suffered much to suffer so much again. It will not be long before we shall know – we shall know – ” and he paused, sucking in his lip ominously. After that he took my hand and said,
“I have taken a great fondness for thee, mon ami; and our solemn duty performed, what can be done shall be done, upon that you may rely. We will first sail to the northward of the River of May to the Indians of Satouriona. If what the Chevalier de Brésac says be true, they will be willing allies upon this expedition.” De Brésac, hearing his name spoken, now joined us.
“We were wondering, seigneur, how great a value to set upon these Indians of yours,” De Gourgues said.
“I have ventured but an humble opinion, my Captain,” replied Brésac, “but I would stake my honor that there is no love lost between Satouriona and De Baçan.” De Baçan, the despatches had said, was the new-appointed Commander at San Mateo.
“I pray God that it may be as you say. For a palisaded fort of stone with half a thousand men is no slight obstacle even for the brave fellows of the fleet of the Vengeance.”
“All of us who have been at Fort Caroline know of the love which the great Paracousi bore for Jean Ribault. Dariol, the trumpeter, who was with the first expedition, has lived among them longer than I; and he has boasted that he will go among them without fear.”
“It is in my mind to sail directly to the country of this chief; his boast may not prove an idle one,” replied De Gourgues. And then to the guard, “Pass the word below to Dariol the trumpeter. We shall see.”
Presently the man came from the fore-castle and stood before us.
“You have no fear of the Indians of Florida, Dariol?” asked De Gourgues.
“None more than I have of M. Killigrew or M. de Brésac, my Captain,” replied the man with a smile.
“You have lived among them longer than M. de Brésac?”
“A year and more, my Captain.”
“They were friendly to M. de Laudonnière?”
“Until the madness for gold, when his soldiers broke faith with them.”
“And Monsieur Ribault?” asked de Gourgues.
“Satouriona thought the Admiral a great chief, M. le Chevalier. They swore an eternal friendship.”
“M. de Brésac says you speak their language, Dariol.”
“As I do my own.”
“You know their customs. How think you they will look upon our landing?”
“Monsieur,” replied the trumpeter firmly, “I believe with M. de Brésac that if they think us Spaniards they will dispute our landing. If we prove ourselves Frenchmen and friends, they will receive us with gladness.”
“Why so?”
“It is my belief that they hold the Spaniards in great enmity. For no arrogance will be borne by Satouriona. He is a great King, with great pride of spirit, and numbers his people by many thousands.”
“But the Spanish have friends among the Indians? M. de Brésac has said so.”
“Yes, my Captain. But they are the false-hearted, dirt-eaters of Outina. Against these, Satouriona wages a war more fierce even than against the Spanish.”
De Gourgues stroked his mustache, saying,
“When we reach the coast, I will call for you, Dariol. For the present, that is all.”
The man saluted and went below.
“Par la mort, his words ring true as steel,” muttered De Gourgues. “If these Caribs are valiant, as he says, we will sweep this scum of pestilence from off the western land.”
The next day at noon we sighted the coast of the Terra Florida, and at the thought of all Diane had suffered there my heart welled full of emotion. Now as we came nearer and nearer our mission’s ending, the cloud fell down upon my spirit again, and the same struggle between hope and fear – of pain which is the price of joy – tossed me to and fro – held and freed me, like the embrace of some temptation. The sun was yet above the foreyard when we came in sight of the River of May, but De Gourgues, wishing to reconnoiter, stood on until sunset, when we were within less than three leagues from the coast. Suddenly we saw several puffs of smoke spurt from the beach as the Spaniards, suspecting no enemy, fired their cannon in salute. Not until then did we know of the new defenses which the enemy were putting upon the shore at either side of the river’s mouth. Our three vessels, to better keep up the guise of friendship, boomed forth a salute in reply, after which we put out to sea again and soon lost the shore line in the rapidly falling dusk.
The river that the Indians of Satouriona call Tacatacourou, after the name of their second greatest warrior, enters the ocean by two mouths at a distance of not more than fifteen leagues to the northward of the River of May. Within the bar there is a safe harbor, and it was for this haven that Dariol and the Chevalier de Brésac were directing our course. But not wishing to pass over the bar until day, De Gourgues held out to sea, not coming in sight of land again until well into the forenoon. Then, the river entrance being easily discerned, he put his helm over and entered the channel, coming safely to anchor at an early hour of the afternoon.
Now that we had come to our journey’s ending there was a great stir and excitement aboard the little vessels of the fleet. The arm chests and ammunition lockers were opened and all hands put merrily to work setting the arquebuses to rights, fixing new match cords, seeing to the barrels and rests that no disaster might befall them by reason of any negligence of their own. The grinding stones were brought out into the sunshine of the open deck and the grit of the polishing steel and the rattle of the pike heads made music brave and martial to the ear. The seaman sang about their work as the lighter yards came clattering down upon the deck, and the culverins, unharnessed from their sea-apparel, shone anew in the brightness of the summer sun. The shore upon both sides was plain to the view at a distance of half a league, and once or twice we saw the dusky figures of Indians upon the beach. Bourdelais and one or two of the gallants, unaware of the plans of De Gourgues, were for going ashore at once and giving battle; but he was in no haste, – when he was ready for all emergencies he would go, and not before.
Night fell again; and with the coming of dawn a great surprise awaited us, for in the gathering light, we saw that the beach was alive with savages. They made no sound but stood in groups as far as the pines, where they were lost in the misty shadows of the forest behind them. Here and there a figure was moving from one group to another, and we knew that their runners had gone out to the nearer villages and that they had assembled to combat our landing. De Gourgues frowned as he came upon deck.
“Crebleu!” he scowled, “there must be three thousand of them at least. Fools that they are! I have no men to waste upon such carrion as these. You are a wise soothsayer, M. de Brésac!”
“Monsieur!” replied the Chevalier with some dignity, “I have only replied to your questions with the best of my understanding.”
“But these red devils,” De Gourgues continued, “are armed to the very finger-nails. They look from here little like the allies you have promised us, M. de Brésac. Ho! Dariol, come aft!”
De Gourgues was striding up and down in a ferment. He saw his anchors gone and his plans set adrift by this unexpected resistance. When Dariol came, he stopped before him savagely, and pointing to the dark mass upon the beach said with scorn:
“Look you, master trumpeter, at your friends yonder! Look, I say! Must we cut our way through all this red vermin before we may reach the Spanish Fort? Explain it, – if you can. What has happened?”
Dariol wore a most serious face.
“The matter is bad, my Captain, for these Indians are surely bent upon war – ”
“Well!”
“If we cannot prove our friendship we shall not land without a battle.”
“’Tis plain as a pike-handle,” said Bourdelais.
“A pretty pickle, sure enough – ”
“M. de Gourgues, had you thought,” interrupted De Brésac quietly, “that they may take us for Spaniards?”
“But even so – ”
“Seigneur, I am willing to take a risk. If Dariol will go with me, I will go to the beach asking for Satouriona – ”
A murmur arose among those within hearing. It seemed to many a most daring thing to offer; for to our people, many of whom had never passed the borders of France, these Indians were as wild beasts or Africans, fit only to be shot or captured as slaves. For me, I believed with Brésac and having been at the council table with Satouriona I foresaw little harm if he were put among the natives upon the beach. So when Dariol had said that he would go, I too offered my services.
But De Gourgues in his uncertain and dangerous mood was of a different mind.
“I have no humor to lose all my men upon such a fool’s venture,” he said. “Dariol may go, if he have the hardihood. M. de Brésac – ”
“Seigneur,” interrupted the Chevalier, “this man must be rowed ashore. He cannot talk and make signs to these Indians, rowing at the same time. It is I who first offered this service.”
De Gourgues frowned, debating for some little time, but at last gave orders that a boat should be lowered into the water. Every persuasion that I might, I used upon him until I saw that further argument was mere waste of words. He would not let me go.
“No,” he said shortly, “we are already too small a number. Were you to go I should be sending – not three, but six, men – and that were already four too many.”
With great anxiety he watched Dariol and De Brésac drop down into the boat. They had no weapons and had removed their doublets to row the better. Dariol had put in the bow a number of small trinkets, such as mirrors, knives and strings of beads, with which he hoped to show the signs of friendliness. The morions of our arquebusiers lined the bulwarks, for the company thought these two men were going most surely to their death. No word was spoken and the sound of the oars plashing in the quiet water of the harbor came down clearly upon the breeze from the land as the little craft drew nearer the shore. When half the distance had been traversed we saw Dariol lay down his oars and stand up in the bow shouting, “Antipola! Antipola!” waving a string of beads in his hand. This brought forth a chorus of cries from the beach, and the savages came down to the water’s edge shouting and waving their bows. But De Brésac, at the oars, not even turned his head at the outcry. He bent steadily to his work like a London waterman, sending the boat at each stroke nearer and nearer the moving crowd.
The excitement upon the ship was intense, for in a moment the craft would be grounded upon the beach in the very midst of the enemy.
“Most gallantly done,” said De Gourgues, beside me, below his breath.
Dariol began shouting again, asking for Satouriona, but in the commotion we could not hear what further was said. Then something happened; for we saw a tall figure come out to his waist in the water, holding up his hands before him. In a moment the boat disappeared in the human wave that engulfed it as the Indians surrounded it upon every side, seizing the gunwales and running it up on the beach. It was a most confused mass and we could make out little of what was going on. A fellow up forward shouted, “They have killed them! They have killed them!” and a great cry arose on the Vengeance which drowned the yelling of the savages upon the shore. Some of the Indians were jumping into the air and throwing their bows aloft; and Bourdelais, who was looking through the glass, said haltingly,
“I see them – there is the shirt of De Brésac. Three of them are holding him – no – they are,” – and then excitedly, “upon my faith – they are clasping him by the hand – they are touching Dariol upon the shoulders. It is friendship – seigneur – friendship!”
De Gourgues snatched the glass from Bourdelais’ hand and fixed it quickly to his eye.
“You are right, Bourdelais. They walk up the beach, my comrade! They converse together. Ah! it is well.”
It was now patent to all on board the Vengeance that no harm had befallen our comrades, and there was great rejoicing. For there in plain sight walked Dariol and De Brésac talking with the Indian who had walked into the water, who, by his stature, wide shoulders and dignified bearing, I made out to be none other than Satouriona himself.
After awhile we saw the boat push off from the shore and make for the ship. Dariol and De Brésac rowed; in the stern we marked the figures of Satouriona and several dusky savages. At this De Gourgues ordered the company to be drawn up upon the deck, and prepared to welcome his strange visitors over the side with all the state and formality he would have shown a King of France. It was a course which diplomacy suggested.
I had not before seen Satouriona in his war dress, for at Fort Caroline he and his braves had come smoking the pipe of peace and wearing a small headdress and only the aziam, or breech-clout, upon the body. As his broad shoulders rose above the bulwarks, we saw that his hair had been lifted upon his head, and two eagle’s feathers painted with streaks were stuck upon it. Upon his breast was painted a picture of one of those beasts which had so frightened us in the swamp – an alligarto – which was the totem of his tribe. Streaks of red and white paint were drawn upon his face, making his features fierce and threatening. I should not have known him but for his bearing, for at Fort Caroline I had thought him a most comely savage, rugged and strong-featured, but of a great calm and dignity. Behind him walked Olotoraca, a young brave, his nephew, and Tacatacourou, the second great chief of the tribe. They bore no weapons, but walked past the ranks of the pikemen and arquebusiers, making no sign of any emotion as they went with De Gourgues below to the cabin. Here he had caused a feast of wine and preserved fruits to be set forth, of which the Indians took sparingly. After this Goddard’s pipe and what remained of his tobacco was brought forth, and De Gourgues, lighting it, himself passed it to Satouriona, who solemnly puffed it and handed it to his neighbor.
De Gourgues’ luminous eyes went from one of the chiefs to the other, as he considered the words best to use in the delicate business before him. Dariol stood behind his chair ready to interpret.
“I have come to the country of the great Satouriona,” he said at last, “to bring him presents and to continue that friendship which was begun by the great white chief, Ribault.”
Satouriona nodded gravely. “So it has been said. I and my people are glad.”
“I thank you, great chief, in the name of my country and of my great master across the water, who in love and good will has sent me,” said De Gourgues, from necessity speaking of the King of France. “He has sent me to give you many gifts which will be useful in your lodges as well as in the hunting. My master knows of the kindness of the great Satouriona to his servant Ribault, and prays that this good-will and friendship will continue through the passing of many years.”
Satouriona arose with great dignity and spoke. His heavy voice, made to resound under the vaulted arches of the forest, rang mellow and deep in the little cabin.
“I have said to the great white chief Ribault that the sky shall fall upon the earth sooner than I will become an enemy to the people of your nation. Since the great stone house was taken by these dark-bearded ones there has been no happy day among the people of the nation of Satouriona. The sun hides his face behind the clouds, and the flowers and fruits have ceased to blossom and to ripen. There is a blight upon all the land, and the rivers and streams dry up like the blood which flows from our hearts. The Spanish have beaten us back with their sticks which speak a loud noise, and they have burned our cabins. They have ravished our wives and daughters, they have killed our children; and our hearts are heavy and ready to burst within us for shame and anguish.”
Satouriona paused to give his speech a greater value.
“All this we have suffered because we loved the great white Paracousi, Ribault. But now the end has come. We can endure it no longer, and we shall make a deadly war against them until the tribe of Satouriona is no more or the people with the black beards are beaten back into the sea out of which they came.”
Again fortune seemed to be favoring us. The display of force was meant for our enemies, not for us. We knew the joy De Gourgues must have felt; but no sign of it showed upon his face. In Europe his reply would have been called diplomacy.
“It is a great sorrow to me, O, Paracousi! that the love which Satouriona bears my people has brought ill treatment upon his tribe. But such things shall be no longer. If his nation has been abused for the love of the French, then the French will be his avengers.”
As this was interpreted by Dariol we watched the face of the Paracousi. Slowly, as the truth of what had been said dawned upon him, Satouriona arose from his seat and leaning forward upon the table, looked over at De Gourgues, a broad smile upon his face.
“What!” he exclaimed, “will you fight the Spaniards?”
“I came here,” replied De Gourgues, rising, “only to reconnoitre the country and make friends with you, and then go back and bring more soldiers; but when I hear what you are suffering from them I wish to fall upon them this very day, and rescue you from their tyranny.”
The effect of this speech upon these Indians was great. Their faces, usually stolid and expressionless, broke into smiles; and all their dignity and quiet was swept away by the joyful tidings. Their voices rang through the narrow cabin as they rose to their feet and in rough gutturals and cries of their own wildly applauded the words of the Avenger. It was some moments before quiet was again restored, for so great was the joy of Satouriona that he had no better control upon his composure than Olotoraca, the youngest of his chiefs.
When the Indians were seated again De Gourgues, raising his hand commanding silence, continued.
“It is most certain, O, Paracousi! that this expedition is no play for children; for those we must fight are sturdy men, well armed and sheltered in a fort built of many thicknesses of stone. You must summon the greatest chiefs and braves of your tribe, so that we shall make good our promises. We do not covet all the honor of this victory, and will share that as well as the spoils of the battle with you and your people.”
“We will go,” replied Satouriona, solemnly uplifting his hand, “we will go and die with you, if need be!”
“It is well. There should be no delay. If we fight we should fight at once; for it will not be many suns before the black-beards will know that our great white canoes have anchored near their fort. This should not be, for what we do, we must do in secrecy.”
When this was rendered into his language, Satouriona drew his knife from his belt, – leaned forward, lifting his hands and elbows, crouching, the very picture of keenness and stealth. His voice was low and threatening like the murmur of the rising storm in the tops of the giant firs of the seashore.
“Do not doubt,” said he. “Do not doubt we hate them more than you can do.”
After this there followed a long discussion upon the best method of attack upon the Fort, Satouriona asking but three days to send his runners to outlying villages that there might be no lack of warriors for the expedition. It was decided by De Gourgues to send three scouts at once to learn the strength and position of the two forts at the river’s mouth as well as many details of the new armament of Fort San Mateo.
