Apalachee

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

the future. He had paid thirty pounds for the slave and was estimating that the slave would turn him a profit of thirty pounds in a year. If he reinvested that profit in another slave, he said, then at the end of the second year, the profit from the two slaves would allow him to buy two more, and from those four slaves would come profit enough to buy four more, and by virtue of mathematical progression he reasoned he would own a thousand slaves in ten years.’’ The others laughed. ‘‘We should already be kings by his theory,’’ said John Hawkins. ‘‘And I could be one myself in a mere ten years by investing my poor stake in a slave,’’ said Isaac, setting down his pipe, which had gone out. He took a sip of madeira. ‘‘And how do you intend to invest your stake?’’ asked John Hawkins, leveling his gaze at Isaac. ‘‘In the Indian trade, Mr. Hawkins,’’ Isaac said evenly, meeting his eyes. John Hawkins nodded. ‘‘My advice to you is this. Take Swade’s commission in trade goods. I’ll put you with a man of mine, Sam Clutterbuck by name, and he’ll take you with him into Indian country. With luck you’ll double or triple your stake in a few months’ time.’’ ‘‘That is the kind of advice I need,’’ said Isaac. ‘‘I thank you for it, and for the use of your man. You will consider me at your service, of course.’’ John Hawkins smiled slightly and nodded, but said nothing as hewatched Isaac and puffed thoughtfully on his pipe. Isaac knew an agreement was forming between them, only partly spoken, a decision by both of them that their interests would henceforth lie together. Isaac raised his cup in a silent toast. John Hawkins raised his own in return. 182 chapter twenty-two The trail could scarcely be seen on the littered floor of the great pine forest, and Henry Hawkins had strayed from it more than once. Now, as before, Hawkins pulled slowly to a halt because the next blaze-marked tree had failed to appear. Behind him Isaac Bull reined in his horse and turned about his two packhorses with their jingling bells and led the way back to the last blaze mark, where Henry stopped for a moment to study the situation and then chose another course, one that soon led to the next blaze. From Charles Town they had taken the Dorchester Road that paralleled the eastern side of the Ashley River. After going about ten miles inland, they had forded the Ashley and struck out northwest to the Edisto River, for a more difficult crossing, and then continued northward, looping around to miss the worst of the small, irksome headwaters of the Ashepoo River. They had already reached the headwaters of Black Creek and then Boggy Gut Creek, and now they were headed toward the Combahee River. ‘‘Does Clutterbuck ever use this trail?’’ asked Isaac. ‘‘I could not have found my way alone.’’ ‘‘He never does,’’ said Henry over his shoulder. ‘‘He uses the river, though it’s more than a mile from his house to his landing. Had we not needed to bring in new horses, we would have come by periago ourselves. Though I admit I like to get out on the land.’’ It did appear to Isaac that Henry was at home in the forest. He rode his horse easily, with no sign of the discomfort that Isaac was feeling after a little more than two days in the saddle. They had covered nearly forty miles since leaving Charles Town, stopping in at plantations that were only to be found by leaving the rough main trail and taking smaller and even more difficult trails down to the lower land near the rivers. No planter could survive who had to carry his produce to market over these swamp-infested trails. The rivers were the real highways of Carolina. ‘‘It’s not far now,’’ said Henry. ‘‘Not an hour if I be right about where we are.’’ ‘‘How often have you come this way?’’ asked Isaac, raising himself slightly in the saddle to relieve his backside. ‘‘Twice,’’ said Henry, ‘‘but only once since Clutterbuck’s been living here. I came the first time with a surveyor. This is my land he’s squatting on.’’ Isaac looked about in surprise. ‘‘This is your plantation?’’ Henry laughed. ‘‘Not here. I bought this...