Cate of the Lost Colony - Lisa Klein [52]
“What is this? Send the boatswain back to fetch all the men in the pinnace,” he demanded.
Without replying, Fernandes disappeared into the cabin, and White and Ananias could only follow him. Again we heard their angry voices. Eleanor clung to my arm. I knew she had not spoken to her father as she promised. Now trouble was in store.
John White emerged from the cabin and without preamble said, “Fernandes has elected to return at once to England because of the lateness of the season and the storms he is anxious to avoid.”
He frowned and his eyes flashed. But the storm on his brow was evidently not the one Fernandes feared.
“Thus we are obliged to stay at Fort Ralegh—”
Roger Bailey interrupted him. “What happened to Grenville’s men? Did the savages get them?” He pointed to Manteo standing in the pinnace. “He must know. He is one of them.”
I admired the way Manteo stood erect, not even glancing at the accusing finger.
“We have women and children with us,” said Ambrose Vickers. “We can’t stay here if we’re likely to be attacked.”
His words caused murmuring among the others and White raised his hand to silence it.
“There is still a fort. We will reinforce it and build up the existing houses.” He paused, then said with emphasis, “And because of Manteo, we have friends among the Indians.”
I did not understand why the men were angry with the governor and not with Fernandes, who stood before the cabin door as if he owned everything inside. I wondered if he would have dared to treat Ralegh as he treated White.
Vickers, too, noticed the pilot. “Wasn’t he ordered to take us to Chesapeake? And now he refuses. That’s mutiny!” he shouted to his fellows.
John White stepped so close to Vickers their noses were almost touching. “The weapons are on this ship and my soldiers are in the pinnace. Shall you fight Fernandes and his seamen for control of the ship? Shall we begin this venture with bloodshed?” His voice was low and tight. “Not while I govern here.”
Vickers seemed to consider his choices. His shoulders slumped. “Governor, I am at your service,” he said. But his tone was sullen.
“Men, to your tasks,” said White. “Unlade this ship.”
The slow business of transporting goods to the island commenced. Bailey oversaw the rebuilding of the shallop, a large rowboat with a mast and sails that had been stored in pieces in the hold. The pinnace and the shallop sailed back and forth over several days. Fernandes watched the operation in silence from the forecastle deck.
The women and children were the last to leave the ship. We climbed down into the shallop, which Ananias guided through the inlet and along the leeward side of the barrier islands. There in the shallows were thousands of sleek cranes with long necks and thin legs. As we passed by, they rose as one into the air. The flapping of their wings sounded like sails unfurling in a gale. Jane sat on one side of me and Eleanor on the other, our elbows linked, as the shallop entered the wide bay. We were all silent with expectation, even little Edmund, and Betty’s lips moved as if she was praying. The island of the Roanoke loomed larger as we drew near. Its shore was dark and dense with trees, their roots like fingers planted in the water. I peered into the swampy thickets and wondered what man or beast could survive there. I wondered if Grenville’s men had been killed by Indians and thrown into the black water or attacked and carried off by the Spanish.
Ananias sailed around the island to a more hospitable landing point, where the pinnace was lashed to some trees. A path had been cleared from the sandy shore to the fort. The site was already a hive of noisy activity, with men cutting down trees and milling the timber by hand. Others were repairing the palisade, a tall fence made from roughly hewed planks. From a forge erected in a clearing came a rhythmic clanging. A grinning Georgie Howe walked by, carrying