CHAPTER V.
MY FIRST COMING TO VIRGINIA.
There are few moments in life to compare with a traveller's first sightof a new land which is destined to be for short or long his home. When,after a fair and speedy voyage, we passed Point Comfort, and had ridourselves of the revenue men, and the tides bore us up the estuary of anoble river, I stood on deck and drank in the heady foreign scents witha boyish ecstasy. Presently we had opened the capital city, whichseemed to me no more than a village set amid gardens, and Mr. Lambiehad come aboard and greeted me. He conveyed me to the best ordinary inthe town which stood over against the Court-house. Late in theafternoon, just before the dark fell, I walked out to drink my fill ofthe place.
You are to remember that I was a country lad who had never set footforth of Scotland. I was very young, and hot on the quest of new sightsand doings. As I walked down the unpaven street and through the narrowtobacco-grown lanes, the strange smell of it all intoxicated me likewine.
There was a great red sunset burning over the blue river and kindlingthe far forests till they glowed like jewels. The frogs were croakingamong the reeds, and the wild duck squattered in the dusk. I passed anIndian, the first I had seen, with cock's feathers on his head, and acuriously tattooed chest, moving as light as a sleep-walker. One or twotownsfolk took the air, smoking their long pipes, and down by the watera negro girl was singing a wild melody. The whole place was like a mad,sweet-scented dream to one just come from the unfeatured ocean, andwith a memory only of grim Scots cities and dour Scots hills. I felt asif I had come into a large and generous land, and I thanked God that Iwas but twenty-three.
But as I was mooning along there came a sudden interruption onmy dreams. I was beyond the houses, in a path which ran amongtobacco-sheds and little gardens, with the river lapping astone's-throw off. Down a side alley I caught a glimpse of a figurethat seemed familiar.
'Twas that of a tall, hulking man, moving quickly among the tobaccoplants, with something stealthy in his air. The broad, bowed shouldersand the lean head brought back to me the rainy moorlands about theCauldstaneslap and the mad fellow whose prison I had shared. MuckleJohn had gone to the Plantations, and 'twas Muckle John or the devilthat was moving there in the half light.
I cried on him, and ran down the side alley.
But it seemed that he did not want company, for he broke into a run.
Now in those days I rejoiced in the strength of my legs, and I wasdetermined not to be thus balked. So I doubled after him into a maze oftobacco and melon beds.
But it seemed he knew how to run. I caught a glimpse of his hairy legsround the corner of a shed, and then lost him in a patch of cane. ThenI came out on a sort of causeway floored with boards which covered amarshy sluice, and there I made great strides on him. He was clearagainst the sky now, and I could see that he was clad only in shirt andcotton breeches, while at his waist flapped an ugly sheath-knife.
Rounding the hut corner I ran full into a man.
"Hold you," cried the stranger, and laid hands on my arm; but I shookhim off violently, and continued the race. The collision had cracked mytemper, and I had a mind to give Muckle John a lesson in civility. ForMuckle John it was beyond doubt; not two men in the broad earth hadthat ungainly bend of neck.
The next I knew we were out on the river bank on a shore of hard claywhich the tides had created. Here I saw him more clearly, and I beganto doubt. I might be chasing some river-side ruffian, who would give mea knife in my belly for my pains.
The doubt slackened my pace, and he gained on me. Then I saw hisintention. There was a flat-bottomed wherry tied up by the bank, andfor this he made. He flung off the rope, seized a long pole, and beganto push away.
The last rays of the westering sun fell on his face, and my hesitationvanished. For those pent-house brows and deep-set, wild-cat eyes werefixed for ever in my memory.
I cried to him as I ran, but he never looked my road. Somehow it wasborne in on me that at all costs I must have speech with him. Thewherry was a yard or two from the shore when I jumped for its stern.
I lighted firm on the wood, and for a moment looked Muckle John in theface. I saw a countenance lean like a starved wolf, with great weals asof old wounds on cheek and brow. But only for a, second, for as Ibalanced myself to step forward he rammed the butt of the pole in mychest, so that I staggered and fell plump in the river.
The water was only up to my middle, but before I could clamber back hehad shipped his oars, and was well into the centre of the stream.
I stood staring like a zany, while black anger filled my heart. Iplucked my pistol forth, and for a second was on the verge of murder,for I could have shot him like a rabbit. But God mercifully restrainedmy foolish passion, and presently the boat and the rower vanished inthe evening haze.
"This is a bonny beginning!" thought I, as I waded through the mud tothe shore. I was wearing my best clothes in honour of my arrival, andthey were all fouled and plashing.
Then on the bank above me I saw the fellow who had run into me andhindered my catching Muckle John on dry land. He was shaking withlaughter.
I was silly and hot-headed in those days, and my wetting had notdisposed me to be laughed at. In this fellow I saw a confederate ofGib's, and if I had lost one I had the other. So I marched up to himand very roundly damned his insolence.
He was a stern, lantern-jawed man of forty or so, dressed very roughlyin leather breeches and a frieze coat. Long grey woollen stockings wererolled above his knees, and slung on his back was an ancient musket.
"Easy, my lad," he said. "It's a free country, and there's no statuteagainst mirth."
"I'll have you before the sheriff," I cried. "You tripped me up when Iwas on the track of the biggest rogue in America."
"So!" said he, mocking me. "You'll be a good judge of rogues. Was it arunaway redemptioner, maybe? You'd be looking for the twenty hogsheadsreward."
This was more than I could stand. I was carrying a pistol in my hand,and I stuck it to his ear. "March, my friend," I said. "You'll walkbefore me to a Justice of the Peace, and explain your doings thisnight."
I had never threatened a man with a deadly weapon before, and I was tolearn a most unforgettable lesson. A hand shot out, caught my wrist,and forced it upwards in a grip of steel. And when I would have used myright fist in his face another hand seized that, and my arms werepadlocked.
Cool, ironical eyes looked into mine.
"You're very free with your little gun, my lad. Let me give you a wordin season. Never hold a pistol to a man unless you mean to shoot. Ifyour eyes waver you had better had a porridge stick."
He pressed my wrist back till my fingers relaxed, and he caught mypistol in his teeth. With a quick movement of the head he dropped itinside his shirt.
"There's some would have killed you for that trick, young sir," hesaid. "It's trying to the temper to have gunpowder so near a man'sbrain. But you're young, and, by your speech, a new-comer. So insteadI'll offer you a drink."
He dropped my wrists, and motioned me to follow him. Very crestfallenand ashamed, I walked in his wake to a little shanty almost on thewateredge. The place was some kind of inn, for a negro brought us twotankards of apple-jack, and tobacco pipes, and lit a foul-smellinglantern, which he set between us.
"First," says the man, "let me tell you that I never before clappedeyes on the long piece of rascality you were seeking. He looked likeone that had cheated the gallows."
"He was a man I knew in Scotland," I said grumpily.
"Likely enough. There's a heap of Scots redemptioners hereaways. I'mout of Scotland myself, or my forbears were, but my father was settledin the Antrim Glens. There's wild devils among them, and your friendlooked as if he had given the slip to the hounds in the marshes. Therewas little left of his breeches.... Drink, man, or you'll get feverfrom your wet duds."
I drank, and the strong stuff mounted to my unaccustomed brain; mytongue was loosened, my ill-temper mellowed, and I found myself tellingthis grim fellow mu
ch that was in my heart.
"So you're a merchant," he said. "It's not for me to call down anhonest trade, but we could be doing with fewer merchants in theseparts. They're so many leeches that suck our blood. Are you here tomake siller?"
I said I was, and he laughed. "I never heard of your uncle's business,Mr. Garvald, but you'll find it a stiff task to compete with the ladsfrom Bristol and London. They've got the whole dominion by the scruffof the neck."
I replied that I was not in awe of them, and that I could hold my ownwith anybody in a fair trade.
"Fair trade!" he cried scornfully. "That's just what you won't get.That's a thing unkenned in Virginia. Look you here, my lad. TheParliament in London treats us Virginians like so many puling bairns.We cannot sell our tobacco except to English merchants, and we cannotbuy a horn spoon except it comes in an English ship. What's the resultof that? You, as a merchant, can tell me fine. The English fix whatprice they like for our goods, and it's the lowest conceivable, andthey make their own price for what they sell us, and that's as high asa Jew's. There's a fine profit there for the gentlemen-venturers ofBristol, but it's starvation and damnation for us poor Virginians."
"What's the result?" he cried again. "Why, that there's nothing to behad in the land except what the merchants bring. There's scarcely asmith or a wright or a cobbler between the James and the Potomac. If Iwant a bed to lie in, I have to wait till the coming of the tobaccoconvoy, and go down to the wharves and pay a hundred pounds ofsweet-scented for a thing you would buy in the Candleriggs for twentyshillings. How, in God's name, is a farmer to live if he has to payusury for every plough and spade and yard of dimity!"
"Remember you're speaking to a merchant," I said. "You've told me thevery thing to encourage me. If prices are high, it's all the better forme."
"It would be," he said grimly, "if your name werena what it is, and youcame from elsewhere than the Clyde. D'you think the proud Englishcorporations are going to let you inside? Not them. The most you'll getwill be the scraps that fall from their table, my poor Lazarus, and forthese you'll have to go hat in hand to Dives."
His face grew suddenly earnest, and he leaned on the table and lookedme straight in the eyes.
"You're a young lad and a new-comer, and the accursed scales ofVirginia are not yet on your eyes. Forbye, I think you've spirit,though it's maybe mixed with a deal of folly. You've your choice beforeyou, Mr. Garvald. You can become a lickspittle like the rest of them,and no doubt you'll gather a wheen bawbees, but it will be a poorshivering soul will meet its Maker in the hinder end. Or you can playthe man and be a good Virginian. I'll not say it's an easy part. You'llfind plenty to cry you down, and there will be hard knocks going; butby your face I judge you're not afraid of that. Let me tell you thisland is on the edge of hell, and there's sore need for stout men.They'll declare in this town that there's no Indians on this side themountains that would dare to lift a tomahawk. Little they ken!"
In his eagerness he had gripped my arm, and his dark, lean face wasthrust close to mine.
"I was with Bacon in '76, in the fray with the Susquehannocks. I speakthe Indian tongues, and there's few alive that ken the tribes like me.The folk here live snug in the Tidewater, which is maybe a hundredmiles wide from the sea, but of the West they ken nothing. There mightbe an army thousands strong concealed a day's journey from the manors,and never a word would be heard of it."
"But they tell me the Indians are changed nowadays," I put in. "Theysay they've settled down to peaceful ways like any Christian."
"Put your head into a catamount's mouth, if you please," he saidgrimly, "but never trust an Indian. The only good kind is the deadkind. I tell you we're living on the edge of hell. It may come thisyear or next year or five years hence, but come it will. I hear we arefighting the French, and that means that the tribes of the Canadas willbe on the move. Little you know the speed of a war-party. They wouldcut my throat one morning, and be hammering at the doors of James Townbefore sundown. There should be a line of forts in the West from theRoanoke to the Potomac, and every man within fifty miles should keep agun loaded and a horse saddled. But, think you the Council will move?It costs money, say the wiseacres, as if money were not cheaper than aslit wizzand!"
I was deeply solemnized, though I scarce understood the full drift ofhis words, and the queer thing was that I was not ill-pleased. I hadcome out to seek for trade, and it looked as if I were to find war. Andall this when I was not four hours landed.
"What think you of that?" he asked, as I kept silent, "I've beenwarned. A man I know on the Rappahannock passed the word that the LongHouse was stirring. Tell that to the gentry in James Town. What sideare you going for, young sir?"
"I'll take my time," I said, "and see for myself. Ask me again this daysix months."
He laughed loud. "A very proper answer for a Scot," he cried. "See foryourself, travel the country, and use the wits God gave you to formyour judgment."
He paid the lawing, and said he would put me on the road back. "Thesealleys are not very healthy at this hour for a young gentleman in brawclothes."
Once outside the tavern he led me by many curious by-paths till I foundmyself on the river-side just below the Court-house. It struck me thatmy new friend was not a popular personage in the town, for he wouldstop and reconnoitre at every turning, and he chose the darkest side ofthe road.
"Good-night to you," he said at length. "And when you have finishedyour travels come west to the South Fork River and ask for Simon Frew,and I'll complete your education."
I went to bed in a glow of excitement. On the morrow I should begin anew life in a world of wonders, and I rejoiced to think that there wasmore than merchandise in the prospect.