Defending the Island Part 13

The vessel no longer remained at her anchorage, nor did he expect to see her there; but he was not quite prepared for that which met his gaze when he was where a view of the most northerly point of the harbor island could be had.

Between where he stood and the opposite sh.o.r.e was the hull of the schooner, keel uppermost, tossing on the short waves, now completely submerged, and again rising high in the air until the greater portion of the planking could be seen. Clinging to this restless wreck were six or eight human beings, and on the beach at his feet lay the bodies of two men who had been beaten down to death during the conflict of the elements.

After watching for several moments the plunging, rolling remnant of what had been a seagoing vessel, fitted to withstand almost any buffeting of wave or wind, Mark became convinced that the wreck was moored in some fas.h.i.+on, and then it was possible to guess very nearly how the disaster had occurred.

It seemed probable that when the first of the Frenchmen gained the schooner's deck, after the fury of the tempest had forced them to retreat from the stockade, the wild tossing of the craft as the waves were beginning to rise induced them to let go every anchor on board, under the belief that she could be held at moorings until the storm had subsided sufficiently to admit of her clawing away from the sh.o.r.e.

[Ill.u.s.tration: He gazed at the struggling wretches on the bottom of the wreck.]

When the tempest was at its height, and after the attacking party had succeeded in getting on board, the little craft must have been literally blown down, until the water, rus.h.i.+ng into the open hatches, had caused her to completely upset.

The wounded, and all others who were in the cabin, must have been drowned offhand, and that some of those who tried to save themselves by clinging to the hulk had suffered a like fate could be told by the lifeless bodies at Mark's feet.

Aid had come to the defenders of the island on the wings of the tempest; and at the very time when it seemed as if all hope of succor was vain, the enemy had been overcome by "Him who holdeth the waters in the hollow of His hand."

As he gazed at the struggling wretches on the bottom of the wreck, some of whom waved their hands feebly, as if nearly exhausted and imploring him to help them, Mark forgot that but a few hours previous these same men had been thirsting for his blood, and thought only that they were in sore need of his a.s.sistance.

He ran with all speed to the stockade, shouting as he approached, and when the women and children hastened outside, believing him to be in distress, he hurriedly told of what he had seen.

"Of all those who made the attack, I am satisfied that only the men on the hulk remain alive. It is for us to help them if we can. There should be enough of us here to drag our boat to the water, and Luke and I will see what can be done in the way of life-saving."

Sorely beset though they had been, no one thought at that moment of the suffering which had been endured because of these men who were now so near death; but all, even the youngest children, laid hold of the boat to launch her.

It was no slight task to drag the craft, small though she was, over the sand to the water's edge; but the task was finally accomplished, and then many moments were spent trying to find the oars, which had been blown out of the boat during such time as the tempest forced her upon the sh.o.r.e.

A full half-hour must have elapsed from the moment Mark discovered the wreck until he and his brother were ready to set off on their mission of mercy, and then it was an open question as to whether they would succeed in the battle against the boisterous waves.

The members of both families stood near the water's edge, regardless of the furious storm which was raging, as they watched with anxious eyes the efforts of the lads. They had set out to save lives; but very many times did it seem as if their own must of a certainty be sacrificed.

Fortunately they were partially sheltered from the wind by the harbor island, otherwise the task could never have been accomplished, and not until both the lads were well-nigh exhausted did they arrive at the plunging hulk.

Now it was that the most dangerous portion of the work must be performed. Only at imminent risk of swamping the small boat could she be taken sufficiently near the wreck to permit of a rescue, and then it was necessary to handle her with the utmost skill, otherwise she would have been stove to kindling against the side of the hulk.

When the boat came close at hand, all the Frenchmen gathered at one point, as if counting on leaping aboard at the same moment, and Mark shouted, peremptorily:

"You'll swamp us if more than one comes at a time. Lay back there you fellows who are the strongest, and help the weakest first!"

Then they quarreled among themselves, each insisting that he was in the greatest need of help, and Mark, finally becoming impatient, cried, sternly:

"If you can't come aboard like decent people, we'll leave the whole boiling of you to get along as may be possible."

"There is not one of us who can cling to this wreck half an hour longer," a man cried, piteously. "Already five have been washed away and drowned."

"Two of you take hold and send aboard that fellow who is lying across the keel. He seems to be in the worst shape. Stand back!"

the lad added, as four men made ready to seize the small boat at the first opportunity. "If you come in other order than I give the word, I'll leave all hands."

By dint of scolding, pulling the boat forward or back as the waves threatened, and otherwise handling his small craft in a sailorly fas.h.i.+on, Mark succeeded in getting four of the men aboard, leaving three to be rescued later.

The boat would carry no more of a load than she then had, while the storm was so furious, and the lads pulled sh.o.r.eward, aided greatly, when going in this direction, by the wind.

The members of both families gathered on the beach near about where a landing would be made, and when the s.h.i.+pwrecked men had been set ash.o.r.e they were helped toward the stockade by the women and children, for the Frenchmen were so nearly exhausted that it was impossible to walk unaided.

Then Mark and Luke started on the second journey, battling quite as desperately as before, and the day was fully half-spent when they brought the last of the survivors ash.o.r.e.

It was not until the seven Frenchmen were being cared for in the apartment of the Pemberton house where the wounded soldier lay, that the lad began to realize the possible danger. These eight men, after having recovered, might easily take possession of the stockade, and Mark was inclined to believe that people who were willing to make war on women and children, could not be trusted to play a manly part even toward those who had saved them from death.

"What shall we do with them all?" Susan asked, as she came out of the house, which had much the appearance of a hospital, to where Mark stood studying the matter seriously.

"It has just come into my mind that we might herd them in your father's house. The greater portion of the things have been taken from there, and we can arrange it to bar the doors and shutters on the outside."

"Are you counting on holding them as prisoners?" Susan asked, in surprise.

"That is the only way we may be certain of a crew like that. After all that has happened, I wouldn't believe in any promises that might be made, and they shall be guarded like so many wildcats."

"Every one of whom appears to be grateful."

"Ay, I suppose they are now, before having recovered; but it may be a different matter, once they're in good shape."

"Do you believe there can be any on the harbor island?"

"I'm satisfied there are no others alive out of all the crew of French and Indians. Luke and I counted on burying the bodies which have been washed ash.o.r.e, and while we are at that work you had better gather up all the muskets and ammunition, hiding the lot in the stable until we have the men secured."

Then, calling his brother, Mark set off toward the beach to perform the last rites over those who had lost their lives while trying to commit murder most foul, and, that having been done, the two lads began transforming the Harding house into a prison, which last was done by fastening all the shutters and one of the doors on the outside. The other door was to be barred in such a manner that it could be readily opened by those who were charged with the care of the Frenchmen.

These tasks were not completed until nightfall, and then Mark told the rescued party exactly what it was his purpose to do, explaining that he was not ready to believe in any protestations they might make.

"You must be held prisoners until our fathers return, and it is to be remembered that if we find one of you attempting to leave the building, which will be given over to your use, we shall shoot him down without the slightest feeling of pity or remorse."

The men swore most solemnly that they would obey every command which might be given by those who had saved them from death, and Mark, armed with a loaded musket, lost no time in escorting them to the Harding house.

It was his intention to have them closely guarded during every hour of the day and night, and to such end Luke was stationed at the front of the building, where, through a crevice which had been made between the logs by Mark, he could keep his charges in view.

Mistress Pemberton would not consent to having the wounded man removed with the others. He was given a bed in one corner of the room, after the furniture piled up as a barricade had been put in place, and Mary and Ellen were instructed to watch him, not with the idea that he might try to escape, but because his condition was such, owing to the wounds and subsequent exposure, that the most careful nursing and attention was needed.

The storm subsided at sunset; the clouds disappeared, and the first night after the besieged were turned jailers was as calm and peaceful as if the harmony of nature had never been disturbed by the clash of arms.

Luke remained on duty until about ten o'clock in the evening, when Susan took his place, and shortly after midnight Mark took his turn at guarding the prisoners.

The Frenchmen had shown no signs of a disposition to do other than as they were commanded; but Mark would not put faith in them, and kept his watch as if knowing they had already formed a plan for capturing those who succored them.

The lad paced to and fro in front of the dwelling, looking in upon the men every five minutes, until a new day had come, and then as he gazed across the waters watching for the sun to rise, he saw the dingy canvas of the _Future Hopes_, glistening like silver in the early light.

The fresh breeze was bearing the little vessel swiftly on, and before any inmate of the Pemberton house was astir, she swung to her anchor close inside the harbor, while the two men listened to the story which Mark had to tell.

The fishermen had not been able to gain a shelter when the storm burst upon them, therefore the _Future Hopes_ scudded before the wind during the four and twenty hours, which explained why she had arrived so much sooner than had been expected.

It would be a labor of love to follow the fortunes of these two families who, in 1758, defended the Island of Mount Desert so bravely against the combined attacks of French and Indians; but historians make no further mention of them, after setting forth in the fewest possible words their deeds, therefore this tale must perforce come to an end.

We do know, however, from the records of Pemaquid, that Masters Pemberton and Harding carried to the fort eight Frenchmen as prisoners, and that the authorities of Ma.s.sachusetts took them in charge several weeks later.