Cate of the Lost Colony - Lisa Klein [102]
But will I still know her? Will she remember me?
From the 1st of August the weather turned foul, with rain, thunder, and waterspouts breaking over the ship. We kept to sea because of the risk of being wrecked upon the shoals.
On the 16th the Hopewell, Moonlight, and El Buen Jesus anchored near Hatorask, and on the 17th the captains, John White, and I set out in the longboats. Then, a tragedy! The NE wind, blowing in gales, gathered at the inlet, buffeting Capt. Spicer’s boat ahead of us. As the steersman struggled to hold his course, a mighty wave overturned the boat and cast her sailors into the perilous waters. Four of the men swam to safety but the other seven, including the brave Capt. Spicer, perished.
The loss brought White to tears, for Spicer had been his loyal companion through many setbacks. Also, five of those who perished had kin at Roanoke, whom they intended to join.
After witnessing the deadly mishap, the seamen in Cooke’s boat were of one mind: not to go any farther but to return to the ship. White and I cajoled, even threatened them, and Cooke, though shaken, stood by us. Thus we prevented a small mutiny, recovered Spicer’s boat and the surviving men, and proceeded to the island.
As darkness had fallen, we dropped a grapnel to anchor us near the shore. Cooke sounded a trumpet and we sang English songs loudly but heard no reply. We spent a long, dismal night in our boats, haunted by the loss of our shipmates and pondering what had befallen the colonists that they did not respond to our noise. It was profoundly unsettling to be within hailing distance of Virginia’s shores and yet to feel she was as remote and unpeopled as the farthest antipodes of the earth. I did not sleep a wink all the night.
At daybreak on the 18th we finally came ashore. Struggling to walk in the soft mounds of sand, we found a disused and overgrown path leading to the ruins of an earthen fort. The palisade around it was broken down in many places. Some of the houses had been taken apart and nothing remained but the foundations. Iron bars, leaden crocks, and other heavy things had been tossed about and were half buried by weeds. John White found his trunks broken into and all his maps and papers rotted, the covers torn from his books and ruined by rain. His armor was also rusted.
“How could they do this to me?” he lamented. “I befriended them, and they destroyed everything I valued!”
I had never heard him speak against the savages before. But I suspect his anger was also for his countrymen.
“They cannot all be dead,” he went on. (I knew he meant his family.) “Where did everyone go?”
Seeing no sign of a slaughter, I wondered aloud if they had removed to Chesapeake as planned. Then White seemed to recall something.
“We must look for a sign that will reveal their destination,” he said and we divided into parties for that purpose. Soon I spotted a tree carved with the letters C, R, and O. When John White came and beheld this, he grew bright with hope.
“They must have gone to Croatoan,” he said. “With Manteo, certainly. And they were in no distress, for if they had been, Ananias would have made the mark of a cross.”
Capt. Cooke offered his opinion. “He did not finish the letters. Perhaps they were being attacked and he had no time.”
White sighed and leaned against the tree. He looked old and weak.
“We have our clue and now must follow the thread,” I said bravely, to keep up his courage. “It leads us to Croatoan, to search for them there.”
But I, too, was beginning to fear a calamity had taken place and neither of us would find those we had come to seek.
Chapter 40
A Decision Is Made
It had been almost a year since Graham and Mika’s wedding. Since then we had lived, for the most part, peaceably among the Croatoan. There was one crisis during the winter, when a hunting party of Indians and Englishmen had gone to the mainland. Five of our men, discontented by the lack of marriageable women, had gone away on their own, stealing all