of arms. Soon they began to have quite a martial air and bearing, handling their muskets, matches and flints with skill.
Messages came from Sir William now and then, bidding me hasten my preparations. I had a goodly store of powder and ball. Flints, matches and guns we had enough of, and, also, two small cannon, with the necessary ordnance stores, which had been sent from Boston.
After dint of much practice I had my men in what I considered fair shape, and I took considerable pride in them. Sturdy fellows they were, most of them, stern of face, yet energetic, with a few daring spirits among them.
’Twas on a May day, when the air was exceedingly pleasant, that I strolled over the meadows, toward the little brook that flowed through the fields. Then, coming to the top of a little hill I saw, on the green slope, a squad of my soldiers. They were playing at games of strength, and, seeing me, stopped.
“Better this than idling at the tavern,” I said. “Keep at it, men, and let us see who has the strongest arms.”
“ ’Twas Lieutenant Cory, Captain,” spoke up Nicols. “He has put us all to shame so far. Look you,” and Nicols pointed to a heavy musket. “Giles did but grasp the end of the six-foot barrel in his hand, and yet he raised the gun out straight, and held it there at arm’s length without a tremor.”
I reached for the gun, and did the feat with little effort. It was an old trick, and one I had often done before while loitering about camp. But the crowd gaped, and, as for Cory, he seemed little pleased that a stranger in the town should have equalled his test of strength.
“What else?” I asked, smiling.
Nicols pointed to a barrel of cider that was on the grass.
“A trader brought it in his canoe a while ago,” he said, “and called on two of us to help him lift it from the boat. But Cory, with no other aid, raised it by the edges, and, holding it close against his breast, walked up the hill with it. Never have I seen a man do such a thing before.”
Now I was glad to see that my company was to be of men of this stamp, not slow to use their strength. For, when by the closeness of the fight, sword and musket are of little use, a strong arm is very needful, and stands one in good stead, as I well knew.
As a lad I had been fond of feats of muscle. But I had had no time to devote to it since coming to Salem. For with the gathering of my company, the writing of letters to Sir William, and the reading of his in reply, most of my hours had been taken up. Now, it seemed, here was a time when I might, without seeming to boast, show my men that their Captain was no weakling. So I glanced about that I might propose some new test; for to lift the barrel of cider, or the gun, I did not count as sufficient.
It chanced that on top of the hill that gently led down to the brook there rested a boulder. It was of good size, and, in weight perhaps 400 pounds, and it was bedded in the earth. To raise it, and cast it from one might be no little task, even for one who boasted of strong arms. Therefore, seeing no other test that would answer, I pointed out the rock to Cory.
“Can you lift and heave it?” I asked. “You are of goodly girth, and the stone is not of such great weight.”
Saying nothing Cory walked slowly up the hill, and I saw that he had cast aside his jacket and shirt, and stood naked to the waist. I marvelled as I looked at his arms and chest. The muscles were in bunches, and stood out like hanks of wool on a distaff. Then, as he clenched his hands and opened them, to feel if his sinews were limber, the muscles played beneath his skin, as ripples do over the face of a pool, when the wind ruffles its surface. Still the stone was heavy, and if he lifted it and cast it he well might be counted a strong man.
Cory reached the rock, and stood over it a minute. He looked on all sides, seeking a fair hold, and, when he had perceived two small projections near the ground, where a man’s fingers might catch, he spread his legs, and stood astride the rock.
“I make no boast,” he said, looking at me, “and if mortal man may lift the weight, then I will move this stone from its bed. Though, doubtless, it has not been disturbed for a hundred years.”
He shuffled his feet, seeking a firm and level stand, and then, with an intaking of the breath, he grasped the rock, and put forth all his strength into a mighty lift. His sinews and muscles stood out under the skin, and were like to burst through, but the stone budged not. Once again did Cory lift and strain, but no avail. He straightened up.
“ ’Tis like that no man can move the rock, Captain,” he cried. “Perchance it is buried a foot or more in the earth. Yet, if it is to be lifted from its bed I will do it,” he added. Once more he took hold.
This time his back fairly arched with the terrible strain, and the muscles in it made it as rough as a ploughed field. But, though he tugged, and pulled, until the water dropped from his brow, he moved not the rock.
“Enough,” I said. “It will surely prove too much for either of us. I must choose something more easy. Yet I will have one trial,” I remarked.
Now, then, I placed myself astride of the great stone, as Cory had done, and I grasped the two projections. I pulled upward once not with all my strength, for I wanted to try the weight. Then, of a truth, I feared I had set myself too great a task, for the rock seemed as immovable as the earth itself. But once again I lifted upward, and this time I strained every muscle I could bring into play. Still the boulder remained in its bed.
I thought toward the end of my last effort, that I felt the least movement, and this gave me hope that, if I kept on pulling, I might tear the rock out. Slowly I pulled upward again, straightening my bent body, as the stone gave, ever so little, in its ancient bed. It was now or never. I pulled and pulled, until, verily, I feared that my arms would come from the sockets.
There was a buzzing in my ears, and, above it, I heard the crowd of men, murmuring in astonishment. Up and up I lifted, until, with a great heave, I had fairly torn the boulder from the earth. Summoning all my efforts until I thought my head would burst from the strain I poised the stone above me. It shadowed me from the sun, and was like to crush me with its weight. I could scarce see beyond it, because of the bulk. Then with a last remaining bit of power, I hurled the stone from me, down the hill side, toward the brook. I had lifted the great rock.
As the stone left my hands the murmur of admiration changed to one of horror. Brushing the mist from my eyes I saw, at the bottom of the slope, Lucille right in the path of the bounding stone. She was walking along the brook, and had not seen me throw the rock. A shout from the men, for I was too dazed to cry out, caused her to look up. She came to a sudden halt.
On the great rock went, by leaps and bounds, from hillock to hillock, and she was in its course, unable, from very fear, to move out of the way. The stone was now scarce a fathom’s distance from her. In the next instant it must strike and crush her, and none of us could do aught to prevent it.
When we had all turned our heads away, that we might not see her killed, and my heart seemed like to burst through my breast, we heard a great noise. It was a roar and a rattle.
The flying rock had struck another, deep bedded in the side of the hill, and the impact of the blow had burst both into thousands of fragments. With a sound like a cannon shot, these had scattered all about Lucille, but not one had struck her. She stood trembling with fright, in the midst of the broken stone, while, scarce knowing what I did, I hastened down the hill to her. She was walking slowly away when I reached her.
“You were near to death,” I said, much unnerved, for, somehow, her life had grown very dear to me.
“The Lord is good,” she replied. “Now, Captain, take me home, for I am afraid yet.”
As we left the wondering crowd behind, I heard one say to another:
“ ’Twas a mighty lift, and none like it was ever before seen in the Colony.”
Also I heard Cory remark, though not without respect:
“Our sturdy Captain, who lifts great rocks easily, can be held by light chains, it seems. Even a maid’s word.”
And