Salute to Adventurers Part 18

A week ago tragedy had come like a thunderbolt. At night the stockade was broke, and the family woke from sleep to hear the war-whoop and see by the light of their blazing byres a band of painted savages. It seems that no resistance was possible, and they were butchered like sheep.

The babes were pierced with stakes, the grown folk were scalped and tortured, and by sunrise in that peaceful clearing there was nothing but blood-stained ashes.

Word had come down the Rappahannock. Ringan said he had heard it in Accomac, and had sailed to Sabine to make sure. Men had ridden out from Stafford county, and found no more than a child's toy and some b.l.o.o.d.y garments.

"Who did it?" I asked, with fury rising in my heart.

"It's Cherokee work. There's nothing strange in it, except that such a deed should have been dared. But it means the beginning of our business. D'you think the Stafford folk will sleep in their beds after that? And that's precisely what perplexes me. The Governor will be bound to send an expedition against the murderers, and they'll not be easy found. But while the militia are routing about on the Rapidan, what hinders the big invasion to come down the James or the Chickahominy or the Pamunkey or the Mattaponey and find a defenceless Tidewater? As I see it, there's deep guile in this business. A Cherokee murder is nothing out of the way, but these blackguards were not killing for mere pleasure. As I've said before, I would give my right hand to have better information. It's this land business that fickles one. If it were a matter of islands and ocean bays, I would have long ago riddled out the heart of it."

"We're on the way to get news," I said, and I told him of my wager that evening.

"Man, Andrew!" he cried, "it's providential. There's nothing to hinder you and me and a few others to ride clear into the hills, with the Tidewater thinking it no more than a play of daft young men. You must see Nicholson, and get him to hold his hand till we send him word. In two days Lawrence will be here, and we can post our lads on each of the rivers, for it's likely any Indian raid will take one of the valleys.

You must see that Governor of yours first thing in the morning, and get him to promise to wait on your news. Then he can get out his militia, and stir up the Tidewater. Will he do it, think you?"

I said I thought he would.

"And there's one other thing. Would he agree to turning a blind eye to Lawrence, if he comes back? He'll not trouble them in James Town, but he's the only man alive to direct our own lads."

I said I would try, but I was far from certain. It was hard to forecast the mind of Governor Francis.

"Well, Lawrence will come whether or no. You can sound the man, and if he's dour let the matter be. Lawrence is now on the Roanoke, and his plan is to send out the word to-morrow and gather in the posts. He'll come to Frew's place on the South Fork River, which is about the middle of the frontier line. To-day is Monday, to-morrow the word will go out, by Friday the men will be ready, and Lawrence will be in Virginia. The sooner you're off the better, Andrew. What do you say to Wednesday?"

"That day will suit me fine," I said; "but what about my company?"

"The fewer the better. Who were you thinking of?"

"You for one," I said, "and Shalah for a second."

He nodded.

"I want two men from the Rappahannock--a hunter of the name of Donaldson and the Frenchman Bertrand."

"That makes five. Would you like to even the number?"

"Yes," I said. "There's a gentleman of the Tidewater, Mr. Charles Grey, that I've bidden to the venture."

Ringan whistled. "Are you sure that's wise? There'll be little use for braw clothes and fine manners in the hills."

"All the same there'll be a use for Mr. Grey. When will you join us?"

"I've a bit of business to do hereaways, but I'll catch you up. Look for me at Aird's store on Thursday morning."

CHAPTER XV.

I GATHER THE CLANS.

I was at the Governor's house next day before he had breakfasted. He greeted me laughingly.

"Has the champion come to cry forfeit?" he asked. "It is a long, sore road to the hills, Mr. Garvald."

"I've come to make confession," I said, and I plunged into my story of the work of the last months.

He heard me with lowering brows, "Who the devil made you Governor of this dominion, sir? You have been levying troops without His Majesty's permission. Your offence is no less than high treason. I've a pretty mind to send you to the guard-house."

"I implore you to hear me patiently," I cried. Then I told him what I had learned in the Carolinas and at the outland farms. "You yourself told me it was hopeless to look for a guinea from the Council. I was but carrying out your desires. Can you blame me if I've toiled for the public weal and neglected my own fortunes?"

He was scarcely appeased. "You're a d.a.m.nable kind of busybody, sir, the breed of fellow that plunges states into revolutions. Why, in Heaven's name, did you not consult me?"

"Because it was wiser not to," I said stoutly. "Half my recruits are old soldiers of Bacon. If the trouble blows past, they go back to their steadings and nothing more is heard of it. If trouble comes, who are such natural defenders of the dominion as the frontier dwellers? All I have done is to give them the sinews of war. But if Governor Nicholson had taken up the business, and it were known that he had leaned on old rebels, what would the Council say? What would have been the view of my lord Howard and the wiseacres in London?"

He said nothing, but knit his brows. My words were too much in tune with his declared opinions for him to gainsay them.

"It comes to this, then," he said at length. "You have raised a body of men who are waiting marching orders. What next, Mr. Garvald?"

"The next thing is to march. After what befell on the Rapidan, we cannot sit still."

He started. "I have heard nothing of it."

Then I told him the horrid tale. He got to his feet and strode up and down the room, with his dark face working.

"G.o.d's mercy, what a calamity! I knew the folk. They came here with letters from his Grace of Shrewsbury. Are you certain your news is true?"

"Alas! there is no doubt. Stafford county is in a ferment, and the next post from the York will bring you word."

"Then, by G.o.d, it is for me to move. No Council or a.s.sembly will dare gainsay me. I can order a levy by virtue of His Majesty's commission."

"I have come to pray you to hold your hand till I send you better intelligence," I said.

His brows knit again. "But this is too much. Am I to refrain from doing my duty till I get your gracious consent, sir?"

"Nay, nay," I cried. "Do not misunderstand me. This thing is far graver than you think, sir. If you send your levies to the Rapidan, you leave the Tidewater defenceless, and while you are hunting a Cherokee party in the north, the enemy will be hammering at your gates."

"What enemy?" he asked.

"I do not know, and that is what I go to find out." Then I told him all I had gathered about the unknown force in the hills, and the apparent strategy of a campaign which was beyond an Indian's wits. "There is a white man at the back of it," I said, "a white man who talks in Bible words and is mad for devastation."

His face had grown very solemn. He went to a bureau, unlocked it, and took from a drawer a bit of paper, which he tossed to me.

"I had that a week past to-morrow. My servant got it from an Indian in the woods."

It was a dirty sc.r.a.p, folded like a letter, and bearing the superscription, "_To the man Francis Nicholson, presently Governor in Virginia_." I opened it and read:--

"_Thou comest to me with a sword and with a spear and with a shield: but I come to thee in the name of the Lord of Hosts, the G.o.d of the armies of Israel, whom thou hast defied_."

"There," I cried, "there is proof of my fears. What kind of Indian sends a message like that? Trust me, sir, there is a far more h.e.l.lish mischief brewing than any man wots of."