Remember Me - Lesley Pearse [113]
Once through the Straits, they found the gulf beyond was dotted with small islands, and they knew they must go ashore to refill the water cask before the last leg of the journey across the open sea. But as they tried to land on one of them, a group of natives watching them from canoes brandished spears and began paddling out to them.
The men were forced to fire their muskets to warn them off, but then to their consternation they saw the natives pick up bows and fire arrows at them. Mary blanched as several of these eighteen-inch arrows with a barbed point landed right in their boat, and the men had no choice but to row like mad to get clear of them.
These natives were bigger and blacker than any they’d met before, and they came roaring after them in their canoes. But just as it looked as though they would catch them, enough wind came up to fill the sails and they escaped, all very shaken.
‘We have to get water before we go across the gulf,’ Will said later. ‘It’s some five hundred miles at least, and even with a full cask we’ll still have to ration it.’
He was obviously right, and Mary was glad to see him taking charge again.
The following day they took a chance and moored at an island, despite a sizable village close by. They filled the water cask and left hastily, then returned to an uninhabited island to spend the night.
The following morning, elated by their success the previous day, they decided to go back for more water and to look for some fruit and cabbage leaves too.
The village looked as peaceful as it had the previous day, but as they sailed closer into shore, all at once two huge war canoes, with thirty to forty warriors on each, came hurtling out of nowhere, making straight for them. They had never seen boats like this before: they were sturdily made, with banks of paddles, sails made of some kind of matting, and a platform which was clearly for fighting.
Will swung the boat around. ‘Row like buggery,’ he yelled to the men, and quickly pulled up the mainsail.
Mary’s heart was in her mouth and she hardly dared to breathe. The natives’ faces and bodies were painted with a white pattern, they were chanting something, and she had no doubt it was their intention to kill every one of the intruding white men. They were so close now that she could smell their sweat and see the hatred in their faces. Even worse, there were more canoes coming out to join them.
Will showed them all then what a first-class sailor he was. He tacked back and forth to catch the wind, and once he’d got it, the boat sped forward just in the nick of time before the natives were in range to fire more arrows.
‘We’ll go straight across the Gulf now,’ he shouted. ‘Hold on to your hats. We’re leaving this Godforsaken country for good!’
The natives followed them for some miles, until they knew they couldn’t outstrip the cutter. As they finally turned to go back to land, Will cheered loudly. ‘We’ve beaten the bastards,’ he yelled, his smile as wide as the stretch of water in front of them.
Mary joined the men in complimenting Will on his expertise. She was proud of him, not just for his skill, but because she saw he had his old spirit back.
‘You did so well,’ she said, moving to sit beside him at the tiller.
‘Couldn’t have done better yourself?’ he said, raising one salt-encrusted eyebrow.
‘None of us could,’ she said truthfully, and kissed his cheek.
‘We’ll be a bit light on water and food,’ he said warningly.
‘Then we must ration it,’ she said. ‘Have you any idea how far it is now?’
He shook his head. ‘It’s all uncharted now. You’d better start praying, my girl.’
Three weeks later, in the middle of the night, Mary gazed up at the stars and prayed. The many prayers she’d offered up previously, that they