True Treasure: Real - Life History Mystery (19 page)

Bennett nodded, “Right. Well, thank you, doctor.”

“Congratulations,” the doctor said, “I should have said that before, congratulations, captain.”

Bennett nodded and left the doctor. He was now more perplexed than ever.

Bennett stood around, not sure what to do next. All thought of what had been his mission for the day was lost. He might be a father in a few months’ time. The idea was—exciting, unsettling, and quite—well, he was at a loss for words and thoughts.

Randall approached. “Bennett?”

“Yes?” Bennett turned to Randall. “You were going to assign the men for fishing duty today.”

“Ah, yes,” Bennett said, “
that
was what I was going to do.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“Yes—No, nothing is wrong. I may be a father in a few months. Mary is going to be a mother. She appears to be having a baby.”

“Congratulations!” Randall said and clapped Bennett on the back. “This is wonderful news!”

“Yes, but the timing.” They started walking down the path to the main tent where the sailors gathered to play cards. “If the news from the King is not favorable. I may never see my child.”

Randall was silent for a moment. “We cannot think that way. You are to be a father and you will make a fine father. Congratulations friend.”

“Please, do not say anything to the men yet. Let us wait until Mary is further along and all appears well.”

“Of course,” Randall said trying to wipe the grin off his face. “A little Graham running around. I am jealous friend, truly, I am.”

“The timing is off.”

“We can delay until after the child is born. If the news is good, we can say we were delayed by repairs.”

Bennett sighed. “I dearly would like to see my child at least once.”

“Then so you shall.”

“We could send a small contingent of men to sneak into the town to find news of the situation. I would gladly volunteer for such a duty.”

“We have time to consider our options. I do not want to make a decision lightly.”

“You never have. And I do not expect you ever will.”

“I value your opinion and your trust above all others. You know that Randall.”

“Yes, I do.”

“I will do my best for the men when the time comes.”

“There is not a man aboard the Devonshire who would not gladly sign on again with you as captain even if it meant certain death. They trust you to lead them even to the other side to meet their maker.”

“It is a heavy weight. The lives of all these men.”

“Yes.”

Randall pulled back the flap as the captain entered and picked the crew to fish for that evening’s meal.

***

The nausea passed as the month flew by. Drawing for the men and the King kept her occupied when she felt up to it. Her biggest fear now was running out of paper, paints, and canvas. She had brought what she felt was enough to last her through the long voyage back to England. She could fit several miniatures on one large piece, so she practiced painting using a magnifying glass, and just a few bristles from a brush. Using the glass made it easier to add detail, and gave a real dimension to the pictures. One of the orchids was so real, an officer went to wipe a drop of dew off of a leaf that had been painted on. Next to her portraits, the mini flowers were the most requested by the men. Some had informed her they planned on giving them as gifts to wives, daughters, or other important ladies in their lives when they arrived back home in London.

About halfway through their stay, various men of the crew started leading a group every night of reading through the Bible. The men sat around the fire as one man, lit by a lamp, read. They had found various palms whose nuts were good to squeeze for oil. The carpenters had broken off large slabs of stone to act as a crushing press.

The fragrance from the oil was pleasant, and the cook had found he could use the oil to prepare the meals too. Life with the ingenuity of the sailors and the abundance of resources on the island, along with the beautiful weather made life almost idyllic.

Only two tragedies befell the crew while they were on the island. One of the men appeared to die of a failing heart after felling trees and moving the heavy load. His lips went blue and he keeled over dead.

The second happened in the fourth month of their stay.

One of the men from the beach ran up to Lieutenant Sedgwig.

“There is a problem on the beach sir, we need the surgeon!”

“Go get him down to the beach post haste,” The lieutenant said to his cabin boy.

The surgeon, Mr. Geary, rushed from his tent with a cabin boy toting his bag following close behind him.

Down on the beach two men were pressing on a wound on a man’s leg. Huge bite marks were visible on his thigh where the men had ripped back his pant leg. A hunk of flesh was stripped away to the bone.

“Shark?” asked the Surgeon as he quickly took out fresh cloths. “This will hurt. Bite on this strap.” The surgeon gestured for the bucket of fresh water the men drank from, which was ever present when men were on the shore. He dumped it over the wound as the soldier bit on the strap. “Brave, be brave. We will have you up and about showing your battle wound to the ladies for the extra sympathy it will bring in no time at all. Hold him down.” The surgeon took out a clear bottle and pulled out the cork.

“Take a big swig first,” he held it up to the sailor’s lips, “Grain alcohol.”

Then as soon as they put the leather strap back in the sailor’s mouth, he poured it over the wounds. The poor man struggled, and then passed out from the pain.

Once the surgeon was sure the wound was clean, he took out his sewing needle, already threaded, soaked it in the alcohol, and began to close up the wound over the exposed bone. He tied the bandages around when he was done, and covered the smaller open tooth marks with the bandages also.

“What happened?” he asked.

“We was scrappin’ the barnacles off the bottom of the boats, when Clyde Elijah’s knife slipped, an he sliced his finger. We’s told him to get out of the water, count of the blood, but we was so close to finishin’ he didn’t want to stop. Next we know, bam! The shark done got him.”

“Let this be a lesson to you. Bleeding men equal food in a shark’s eye. You have seconds to get out if you don’t want to be shark bait.”

The men were silent and looked at their friend who was being loaded onto the stretcher and taken back up the hill.

The lieutenant called out, “No more men in the water today. The sharks will be circling for the next day in search of the wounded man. They will bite at anything that moves in the water. Just as if seeming to prove his point, several fins broke the surface near the shore, looking for the wounded meal.

***

Mary was so large now she could not move easily around and walking to the beach was nearly impossible as she could not see her own feet. She knew the six months were up, and they were still on the island because of her. Everyone was waiting for the baby to come. She felt restless as she could only walk the path to the head of the trail and back. Walking in the crews' camp was not acceptable. Charles would bring her shells, and other interesting items that washed up on the beach. One day it was a preserved star fish. On another it was a piece of pretty orange coral. Huge conch shells were so common the men tired of collecting them.

The carpenters had made a beautiful crib carved from a hollowed out cedar. The front and back were carved with reliefs of Noah's ark and the sides each had a line of animals walking into the ark, then out of the ark. At the bottom they had carved the name “Graham.”

Mary had taken to sewing a few gowns and had cloths ready to wrap the baby’s bottom in.

“Bennett, we must have a name. Have you thought of what we should call him if he is a boy? Would you like him to have your name?”

“That might not be such a blessing.” Bennett said half seriously.

“Yes. Yes, it would! You are loved and respected by the men and by me. Our son will be proud to bear your name.”

Bennett asked, “What if we have a girl? What then?”

Mary shrugged. “We’ve thought of many names and never have agreed upon one. Maybe when the babe is born a name will suggest itself.”

“Perhaps
,” Bennett said, then with a twinkle in his eye he suggested, “Or we could let the crew pick the name.”

Mary playfully punched him, “Bennett.”

“We could take wagers.”

“Stop. Laughing hurts.”

“There’s nothing funny about gambling,” Bennett said with a straight face.

“Bennett, really, stop!”

***

A few weeks later, in the middle of the night, the ground shook. A low rumble was sounding. Mary called out, “Bennett!” The bed rattled. From outside the tent, they could hear trees thumping to the ground, and an awful, low, groaning rumbling up from the ground which trembled, rocking everything including the tent. Rocks fell from the side of the mountain. A scream echoed back towards them as birds squawked in protest. Bennett jumped out of bed, hastily lit a candle and left the tent. Mary threw on her day robe, and went to stand in the doorway of the tent as the men waking from the shaking of the trembler walked about the camp looking for damage and injuries.

About an hour later, Bennett came back to the tent. “It looks like the earthquake was not from the island, but further away on the mainland. We had some rock fall, and a split in the earth on the other side of the path. We will fence it off with brush so no one falls in.”

Mary brought Bennett a cup of coffee. “We have had many quakes on the mainland. Still, it is unsettling when they hit. The natives take it as a sign their gods are angry.”

Bennett drank some of the strong brew then spoke, “We may feel more. A volcano blew somewhere on the mainland and sent the shock down the coast. It could not have been too far away to open the rift.”

“Could you see a glow from the mainland? Will there be a lava flow?”

“No. Tomorrow we may see ash or smoke. It could give us an indication of which one is causing the quakes.”

They went to bed. Over the next few months minor quakes shook the land beneath their feet but nothing as fierce as the one that split land on the far side of the path.

***

A few days later Mary’s water broke while she was on her morning walk. Charles exclaimed when he saw the puddle spreading out on the ground, “Miss!”

“It is all right Charles. Please tell Bennett the baby will soon be here.”

Mary walked back to the tent. Excited and terrified all at the same time. She went to the privy several times feeling like she would mess herself, but nothing would come out.

She went back to lie on the bed, with an old canvas covering it which had been waterproofed with wax. The mattress would be preserved from the mess that would come. Several sheets lay on top of the canvas for her comfort. The doctor came in and took a peek.

He announced to Bennett just outside the tent, “Everything is fine. The contractions are starting, but the baby has not crowned yet. By the fifth watch, you should be a father.”

He motioned for Bennett to come closer to hear his whisper, “Rest assured. I have been observing the birthing process of the goats.” The doctor nodded confidently and patted Bennett firmly on the back.

Bennett said, “I see. Huh. Thank you.”

Bennett went inside to hold his wife’s hand. “Soon darling, soon.”

Mary saved her breath for pushing. She did not cry out, as she did not want to distress the men, but rather turned into herself and counted through the pain. It never seemed to last more than two minutes. She could push and count for that long.

On his next trip into the tent the doctor lifted the sheet to look.

“Oh dear,” he exclaimed.

“Is something wrong?” Mary asked frightened.

“No, no, here,” He took Mary’s hand and placed it down below, “that is the baby’s head. Feel the hair.”

“Oh no,” Mary said as she started to cry. “I cannot push if I am crying!”

“Get a hold of yourself woman, and push for all you are worth on the next wave. I am here to catch the babe.” The doctor knelt and smiled.

Mary pushed.

“Good, good girl. The head is out. One more big push and the baby should slide right out.” The doctor called over his shoulder, “Captain, an assist!”

Bennett rushed in, “Yes?”

“Stand here with a towel. Be ready to wrap the babe,” the doctor commanded, “grab the scissors by the basin.”

“Yes, yes,” Bennett muttered under his breath, taking deep breaths. He stood at the ready, blanket draped over his arm, and scissors, in the palm of one.

Mary said, “I am going to push.” She made a groaning, pushing noise as the doctor exclaimed, “Beautiful. Just beautiful.” He took the baby, stuck his finger wrapped in a wet hanky and cleared out the mouth. “Bennett, cut the cord, and tie it off on both ends. The laces are by the basin.” Bennett put the blanket down and grabbed the laces instead. As soon as Bennett cut the cord, some blood pulsed out of both ends. He tied off both cuts quickly.