over,” Pena ordered.
Andrew hesitated. Pena pulled him in.
“Now kick like the duck,” the man said. “Let your feet work like ducks’ feet.”
He used a small log floating by to buoy his student as he kicked. Andrew was able to get back to the steps on his own.
They clambered out.
Pena made Andrew stand over the cistern again, cold and miserable, his stomach heaving.
“Observe the frog,” the man said as he dropped a frog into the tank. “Watch how he pulls himself forward with his fronts as he kicks with his rears. You see how he positions his rear legs, drawing them up, out, and in together.
“You will do this now. I will hold you. Back into the water.”
They practiced until the skin on Andrew’s fingers was puffy and wrinkled.
“You do not want to paddle like a dog,” Pena said. “That is too tiring. The way a frog swims, he can rest as he goes. So can you, with the turning over on your back.
“Give a dog a long distance to swim and he will drown, which is how geese and ducks defend themselves—they let the dog get close and then paddle on, drawing him out and out, and then,
voilà
! No dog!
“Today perhaps I save your life.”
21
A PPEAL TO THE Q UEEN
It was a warm afternoon. The air was sweet with blossoms and the first downed leaves. Durham House was mirrored in the river.
Andrew was working with Pena, harvesting some of their Spanish seedlings, trying to figure out what they might be good for.
“First we crush a leaf and a root for smell,” said Pena. “Some of these I know as herbs for seasoning. Too bad we keep no goat here: she could tell us what’s good to eat. A cow, even better; the cow is a more delicate feeder,” Pena explained.
“Ah! This is good,” Pena said, holding up a root. “Ginger. And this one, sarsaparilla. They flavor their drinks with it. But these—” he said, waving his hand over a pile of wilting plants, “I can make nothing of them. Next year their blooms and fruits will tell us more, yes?
“There is a tree I look for,” he said. “I hear the Indians in New Spain treat fever with the bark of a tree—but what tree?”
On his way to bathe, Andrew met Mr. Harriot in the hall.
“Mr. Raleigh’s just summoned Mr. Hakluyt and your friend Tremayne to come help write an appeal to the Queen to let our expedition sail.”
“I thought she was for it,” Andrew said.
“It hangs in the balance. Her advisors fear war with Spain if we go; for her part, she frets at the expense. Many hands reach out; few realize how little she has to give.
“‘When people arrive at my age,’ she said sourly to Mr. Raleigh, ‘they take all they can get with both hands and only give with the little finger.’
“‘Your little finger, madam,’ he replied, ‘will do very well for us!’
“She smiled at that—a good sign. Now we must persuade her to twitch that finger in our favor.”
When the others arrived, Andrew was called to the turret. Mr. Raleigh’s writing board was awash with books, maps, and papers.
“Arrange that mess under three trumpets,” Mr. Hakluyt ordered. “‘Riches,’ ‘Faith,’ and ‘Safety.’ Our Queen loves those horns best, so we’re going to blow her such a tune she’ll dance her way to the New World!
“The first—the loudest—will play to her nose for riches. People in the colony will send her strings of pearls, and perhaps there is gold. We’ll hint but make no promise.
“We
can
promise profit in the trade as those people buy our English products and provide the things we now trade with others for—sugar, silk, and emeralds.
“Our second trumpet will proclaim her chance to bring Reformed Religion to the natives—gentler and kinder than what the Catholic Spaniards practice. They rob and murder their natives and torture to convert; ours will be the true Christian way.
“The third—the trumpet Safety—will announce a place for vagrants, petty criminals, and enclosure men.
“Do you know about enclosure men?”
Andrew hesitated. Pena pulled him in.
“Now kick like the duck,” the man said. “Let your feet work like ducks’ feet.”
He used a small log floating by to buoy his student as he kicked. Andrew was able to get back to the steps on his own.
They clambered out.
Pena made Andrew stand over the cistern again, cold and miserable, his stomach heaving.
“Observe the frog,” the man said as he dropped a frog into the tank. “Watch how he pulls himself forward with his fronts as he kicks with his rears. You see how he positions his rear legs, drawing them up, out, and in together.
“You will do this now. I will hold you. Back into the water.”
They practiced until the skin on Andrew’s fingers was puffy and wrinkled.
“You do not want to paddle like a dog,” Pena said. “That is too tiring. The way a frog swims, he can rest as he goes. So can you, with the turning over on your back.
“Give a dog a long distance to swim and he will drown, which is how geese and ducks defend themselves—they let the dog get close and then paddle on, drawing him out and out, and then,
voilà
! No dog!
“Today perhaps I save your life.”
21
A PPEAL TO THE Q UEEN
It was a warm afternoon. The air was sweet with blossoms and the first downed leaves. Durham House was mirrored in the river.
Andrew was working with Pena, harvesting some of their Spanish seedlings, trying to figure out what they might be good for.
“First we crush a leaf and a root for smell,” said Pena. “Some of these I know as herbs for seasoning. Too bad we keep no goat here: she could tell us what’s good to eat. A cow, even better; the cow is a more delicate feeder,” Pena explained.
“Ah! This is good,” Pena said, holding up a root. “Ginger. And this one, sarsaparilla. They flavor their drinks with it. But these—” he said, waving his hand over a pile of wilting plants, “I can make nothing of them. Next year their blooms and fruits will tell us more, yes?
“There is a tree I look for,” he said. “I hear the Indians in New Spain treat fever with the bark of a tree—but what tree?”
On his way to bathe, Andrew met Mr. Harriot in the hall.
“Mr. Raleigh’s just summoned Mr. Hakluyt and your friend Tremayne to come help write an appeal to the Queen to let our expedition sail.”
“I thought she was for it,” Andrew said.
“It hangs in the balance. Her advisors fear war with Spain if we go; for her part, she frets at the expense. Many hands reach out; few realize how little she has to give.
“‘When people arrive at my age,’ she said sourly to Mr. Raleigh, ‘they take all they can get with both hands and only give with the little finger.’
“‘Your little finger, madam,’ he replied, ‘will do very well for us!’
“She smiled at that—a good sign. Now we must persuade her to twitch that finger in our favor.”
When the others arrived, Andrew was called to the turret. Mr. Raleigh’s writing board was awash with books, maps, and papers.
“Arrange that mess under three trumpets,” Mr. Hakluyt ordered. “‘Riches,’ ‘Faith,’ and ‘Safety.’ Our Queen loves those horns best, so we’re going to blow her such a tune she’ll dance her way to the New World!
“The first—the loudest—will play to her nose for riches. People in the colony will send her strings of pearls, and perhaps there is gold. We’ll hint but make no promise.
“We
can
promise profit in the trade as those people buy our English products and provide the things we now trade with others for—sugar, silk, and emeralds.
“Our second trumpet will proclaim her chance to bring Reformed Religion to the natives—gentler and kinder than what the Catholic Spaniards practice. They rob and murder their natives and torture to convert; ours will be the true Christian way.
“The third—the trumpet Safety—will announce a place for vagrants, petty criminals, and enclosure men.
“Do you know about enclosure men?”
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