The Golden Pelican: Dangerous Days in Devon

Auckland Star, Volume LXVIII, Issue 300, 18 December 1937, Page 3 (Supplement)

The Golden Pelican: Dangerous Days in Devon

SwLsh — swish! Swisli —swish! Swish —swish! The milk foamed like snow into the wooden yail bet ween Emm's knees undex the black cow. The sea-wind rustled the reed-tha-tch of the little shod and blew Emm's hair out of its braid till it streamed like a red banner aloii£ the cow's dark flank — for her hair was not gold nor even "carrots." but a gorgeous. colour, almost scarlet, like a pale corn-poppy. And the best of it was that her face was not plain, either, "while she only had a few freckles on her nose! The sun was slipping down behind "the hill-top where an ancient cross had braved the storms of so many forgotten years and given its name to the tiny hamlet below, which men still know as

Torcross. n*e cowshed, however, wjia only just below the rounded grass-grown cliff-top and from this level space there was a glorious view, across the blue sea, of Devon, just now distantly dotted with the sails of small bluff-hulled ships. But Mm in had not eecn the=e, sails —if she had. she might not have sung so gaily to t he black cow : it is so, that ye will go, I will not he left behind 1 ; Shall it never be sairl. the Is'Tit-Brown Maid Was Co her love linlnrul : #I;ikc jou ready, lor so am I—- —" Glancing over her shoulder, she suddenly saw the ships'. Dragging back the pail, she sprang to her feet, hand to eve. ller !a<v wont white as ashes. "The French!" she said. '"The French!'' There wo* no doubt about it. Living so near Dartmouth, then one of the chief centres of Knglish shipping. F.mm knew all about the terrors of sword and tlame which the nation's great enemies often brought along the southern and western coasts, and she realised that s-uch a fleet as this, now in full sail across Start Bay, could ony mean an awful visitation for the folk of Devon. Leaving the precious milk as it stood, she flew down the clifT path, Aurefootc.l as a goat with her bare feet, until in •:

few momcrns she reached tlic small farmstead on the hillside overlooking tin 1 freshwater lake which, with its fish, . kept them all from starving no matter j how bad the corn harvest might be. In the little yard she found an old 1 yeoman emptying new-mown hay from . the panniers of a black Dartmoor pony , - fur hay waA very precious in those days of poor pasture'. and it had to he j won in small quantities wherever the ground was good enough. "Father!" gasp<*l l'.mm, "the French!" Without a word the yeonian hurriedly followed her out to where tliey could see the ships rounding Start Point. Then he nodded, prim-lipped. "The French," he s«id. "Sure enow. Saints s«ve our sowk! As fer our bodies He paused. "Where'm be going':'' "Dartmouth.'' said Emm. "Oh. father, I couldn't we warn those poor folk somej how ?" 1 "How could we, maid, and they foreign scum makin' sail at this rate? Sir | William Chalet and his cut-throats, no 1 doubt. They're pasftin' us by, however, j praise the holy Petrock what | al>out the women and babes and old I folks yonder? The villains are makin' ! Blackpool Sands to strike Dartmouth town in the back now the fishing fleet's away. Ah, look yon! Their sails fall! Wind's changin'!" With clasped hands and parted lip*S Emm watched the distant ships. The j bellying sails were slackening; then ! they drooped altogether as the south wind fell and the enemy craft slowed | down and stopped, baffled. The air | freshened again, but now it was a lightj breath from the ea«st, then to the south I of east, and then to the north of ea~t. ] and the evil ships began to slew round ; ever so slightly, for tacking and veering 1 was barely understood in this year 140.'i. I So the man and girl watched, while ; the fate of innocent human lives swayed | in the balance with the backing and I veering wind. Then the girl gripped the j man's sheepskin sleeve. j "Father, while the wind chops there is a chance! I/et me have Pixy and gvt tor i Dartmouth. I've been the road and Heaven will keep me in the dark. Oh. j think of the little babes and let me go, | fa t her!" ! The man looked hard at her white faco with the bright hair fluttering across it in the battling breeze. "Reckon 't isn't for me to stop ye. Lord knows if yell do it. but brave heart carries far. God be wi' ye, child:"'

The next moment Emm -weus heaving the panniers off the Dartmouth pony; then, barebacked, she was out of the yard and out of sight, although a woman, coming from the little reed-thatched house, caught sight of her as she galloped away. "Eh, father, what's to do T" the woman cricd; but the man, pointing to the ships, silenced her. She began to cry quietly. "Why didst let Emm goT** she said. "We shall never see her again, Humphrey!"* "The saints will help Iter, Moll." said the man simply. "Leastways, if they don't, they ought. Heaven hronjrht her to us. remember, and 't grateful to begrudge her," but he had to go into the | stable to hide his own tears. i Kmm had come to them, a gift from ( the unknown, one snowy night over 1:5 | years before. The yeoman found her in | a sheep track, nearly dead. The ehild- | less couple had cherished her with all i their hearts ever since, for no one had , claimed her. Foundlings were not rare i in those hard times, and the 15-months-

old child had boon wrapped in rags. She could just lisp "Kmin,'' so that became hor name, and the only other thing about hor which could ]x»ssiblv mark her origin had been a <*crap of white silk, perhaps a corner accidentally torn from some former garment and entangled in the rags by mistake. This scrap had been beautifully embroidered with a golden pelican, feeding her young; but even when Humphrey showed it to the old parish priest of Stokenham, the father could make nothing of it, and so the matter stood. "The other road, Pixy," said Emm, where the road forked round the lake,

and they plunged into the green gloom under the trees, for she dare not risk the exposed road along Slapton Sands. Also. >he dare not try the pony too much, for Pixv bad a long, difficult way to go —a way easily lost in the darkness, in spite of Emm's brave words. . c he had only travelled it a few times before. too, hut no matter what happened, she must get to Dartmouth, for the cnomy would -trike there with double fury. Emm stopped for a moment to breathe Pixy and get a last glimpse of the ships before the road turned from the sea. They were decidedly nearer now, but

they must have some experienced sailors with them, for they were keeping oil shore to avoid the Skerries Bank. It was as though Pixy understood the terrible need lor speed as she flew up the track leading to Slapton just as the sun dropped behind the hills. But a marsh had t<> be struggled through, and it was dark before Kmm could cry out to a dimlv seen man with a dog at his heel* in Slapton street: "A French fleet round the Foint! Tell all the folks! The French are coming!"' and then Pixy's unshodden hoofs thudded away in the gloom. (To be continued.)