Читать книгу Henry Hudson - Edward Butts - Страница 9

Prologue Adrift

Captain Henry Hudson sits in the stern of the shallop, his face a solemn mask. Should any of the others in the boat steal a glance at him, he does not wish them to see hopeless despair in his eyes; so he keeps his gaze on the wall of mist that lies across the green water like a distant low cloud. It is as though he believes that by staring long and hard enough, his eyes might pierce that fog to see what lies beyond. He has one hand on the tiller, and all of his concentration seems to be on navigating the open boat that is now their world. But behind that determined countenance, a thousand thoughts are tossing like ships on a stormy sea. Is this the end? How did everything come to this? What to do next? If only I had seen it coming! If … if … if….

Young John Hudson lies propped against his father’s legs, his head on his father’s lap. He is nineteen years old. No longer a boy, but not quite a man. The lad is quiet. But the captain has a hand on John’s shoulder, and he can feel him shivering. Is that from the cold, the captain wonders, or is it out of fear? Does my son wonder if he’ll ever see his mother again? The captain thinks of his wife Katherine back in their comfortable home in London. Will he somehow find a way to take John back to her, alive and well? If, God forbid, he cannot, will she forgive him for taking John on this voyage, or will she curse her husband’s name for the rest of her days? If only he could see her one more time! And his other two sons! And his baby grandchild! The captain squeezes John’s shoulder as he steers the shallop around yet another ice floe. The wretches could at least have spared the lad! But of course, he knows very well why the mutineers could not risk taking John back to England. His testimony would hang them all!

Henry Hudson knows that his teenaged son has every reason to be afraid on this June day in 1611. The two Hudsons and seven crewmen from the ship Discovery are adrift in a small boat on a cold northern sea. Three of the men are ill, and two are suffering from injuries. They are in unknown territory, so far from home they might as well be on the moon. Their provisions are puny: a gun with a little shot and powder, a small bag of flour, a few blankets, some pikes, an iron cooking pot, a box of carpenter’s tools, and the clothes on their backs. That is all they have to help them survive in a hostile Arctic environment.

Mutiny! Of all the crimes men of the sea could stoop to, none is more despicable in the eyes of God and man. Hudson has faced the vile spectre of mutiny before, and always he has managed to circumvent it, by means of reason, by compromise … until now! This time the mutineers struck so swiftly, there had been no opportunity to negotiate. They had not even the desire to listen. This mutiny was not only an act to depose the captain; it was also a culling of the weakest members of the crew so there would be fewer men eating the dwindling supply of food.

Ever since conquering the Furious Overfall a year ago, a feat accomplished by no other mariner before him, Hudson has been certain that he has reached the Pacific Ocean — or at least an extension of it. The way to China and the Indies was almost within my grasp. If only the men could have understood that! We would all have returned to England as heroes and reaped rewards and glory.

Hudson examines their options. They can follow the Discovery, and perhaps catch up with the ship at the place where they had found a breeding ground for sea birds months earlier. He knows the mutineers will stop there to stock up on as many birds as they can. But will they stay long enough?

Hudson thinks of navigating the shallop through the Furious Overfall. Then they could travel south, hugging the Labrador coast until they reach Newfoundland. If they get there they could go home with the fishing fleet. But Hudson realizes that is a long, long way to go in an open boat. And they have so little food.

Hundreds of miles to the south, the French have established a settlement in the valley of the St. Lawrence River. Hudson wonders if he they could make it there overland, perhaps with the help of the Natives. The French and the English are not on friendly terms, but surely those French would show Christian charity to a handful of unfortunate Englishmen. But would the savages help us, or kill us?

The other option is to find a spot somewhere on the bleak shore of this northern sea and await rescue. If the mutineers reach England, Hudson believes, no doubt they will have a grand lie prepared to explain how the captain and so many men were lost. But somebody will be suspicious, and the truth will come out. Then an expedition will be sent to look for them. Even if the Discovery does not return to England, an expedition will still be sent. People will want to know what happened to the ship and crew. Others will want to take up the quest for the Northwest Passage. Two or three years might pass, but eventually another English ship will find its way through the Furious Overfall and into this sea. Hudson is positive of that.

If we reach land, we can build a good sturdy shelter. If we can shoot one of those great, white bears, we will have meat. If we can convince the savages to help us; promise them rewards … if … if … if….

Looking ahead, Hudson sees the fog bank rolling toward them. It crosses the cold, green water like a grey shroud. There is no escaping it. The mist envelopes the little boat and its doomed passengers, and the fate of Henry Hudson and his men becomes an Arctic mystery.