Forbidden Berries

September 7, 1592

We have made land! By God, we have! The journey of four moons hath proved that Providence hath smiled upon his people. Battling bitter tempests and with rations scant, we landed in the most luxurious acreage that He hath so befitted Man since the days of Eden: white sandy beaches, rays of sunshine glittering through lush and leafy greenery, laden with fauna to heart's and stomach's contentment. We kissed terra firma and made camp beneath a proud cross next to our colors. This land, this mysterious, pristine, tropical bit of paradise, hath yet to be claimed. Alas, we have done so in the name of God and Country. We feel as conquerors of the New World.

September 10, 1592

Verily, the New World is more prosperous than expected. Our intrepid band hath raised the stolid trunks of these exotic trees and made bulwarks of them. Spanish vessels may be on the horizon anon; thus, we must be the readier—the watchword be vigilance! The fruit-bearing trees are a stone's throw from our mooring lines. The cervine are naive and corpulent, begot by lack of carnivorous predators. To the apostate, this surely wouldeth convert he, for what sustenance and shelter needeth we if 'tis not already supplemented? Indeed, the work of the Almighty. I am assured that our venture here will prove prosperous and abundant. His Majesty will be most pleased to see his kingdom and riches expanded to the far side of the globe. So shall we, for history will remember us who staked the claim for eternity.

September 11, 1592

We've struck gold! Huzzah, we cried as the first nugget glittered from the unearthed lode like the star that led shepherds to Bethlehem. Our tools labored upon the lustrous ore until we yielded bushels in buckets too cumbersome for even our most stalwart—two men a bucket, the least! Praise be! I held enough gold to make even the Duke of York blush as I write this entry today with a decided nature never to rest until I have yielded the last drop from the teat of this abounded land.

September 18, 1592

Barbarians! Sighted yesternight! One of our men meant to harvest from a newfound berry bush when a savage sunk an arrow before his feet. The action startled ol' Borris that he fell to his withers and discharged his musket. I, in my quarters, engrossed with the task of tallying our twenty-stone gold haul, was piqued by the thunder of the powder's smack. We sallied forth from our fortress and met the strange interlopers. Strange, for they bore a resemblance to us—bipedal and similar differentiae but rough-hewn and unrefined bearing compared to our civilized ilk. Their naked disposition bore skin shaded of sun-beaten leather and wild, swarthy tresses knotted and shaped in peculiar fashions. Their aquiline noses and lipless placid stares, devoid of guile or cunning, made them seem ever the more beastly. If the situation couldeth ever be more dire, one wielded the tongue of Spaniards. 

Swords were drawn, muskets at the ready, we were prepared to lay waste to the savages when Percy, one of our compatriots and a former sailor of the King's navy who spent several years as a prisoner in a castillo in the Port of Malaga, stepped forth and spoke. His command of the language was equal to that of the savage's, whose name was Tefi. From what we gathered, the barbarians have been natives of these lands immemorial and called themselves the "Surp'nte" people. They are the only inhabitants; however, when pressed about Tefi's knowledge of the Spanish language, we learned that the Spanish had made landfall here about four years ago. They took Tefi back to Spain as a prisoner and then returned him three years hence. Fortunately, Tefi was not bespelled by Popery and kept his tribal religion—better an apostate than a Catholic, my father always said. When asked why they loosed the warning arrow at the feet of ol' Borris, Tefi sworeth 'twas in zeal, for the red-stemmed and white-fleshed berries were toxic, proven fatal, yet sacred to their faith. A curious way to warn a man, I dare say. We returned to camp unscathed and unharmed with promises to meet with the Surp'nte people at the berry bush at dawn.

I remind myself that these are not children of Christendom; they are not promised salvation. We can employ their ignorance to expand our understanding of these lands and extract their riches. Tis clear by any measure that we are superior beings, and our rightful place as Englishmen is for the inferiors to bend to the will of God and England as we blaze forth a path of righteousness. This land is ours by right, by God, and we will soon ensure that these savages will either convert and bathe in baptismal waters or suffer in one of baneful blood.

September 24, 1592

We have maintained a peaceful accord with the heretics. They have imparted us with the secrets to cultivate the land and harvest the meat of exotic creatures in boughs on high and in hollows below. We have learned means to draw the sweet waters from springs deep within Earth's bosom. Our strength and constitution waxeth strong in the pastoral land. Methinks I may never wish to depart hence; the grey skies and sooted soil of London Towne scarcely compare to the verdant boon that hath taken to me as a keen and gentle friend. One couldeth grow old here and yield unto eternal slumber with soul in contentment—save there stands a church wherein to render unto God my devotions. Ere long, our time will come to cull the savages and to take this land for our own properly.

First, we will test these savages. Upon the morrow, a congenial contest will ensue. We shall gauge the vitality, dexterity, and strength of the Surp'nte people with tests in swimming, racing, scaling, tossing stones, and soldiery.

I admit that I am eager to witness the mettle of English blood triumph over these benighted heathens as a means to douse the rebellious spirit that may smolder in their chests.

September 25, 1592

Tis with a troubling quill that I write our discoveries following the end of today's contest. In all matters tested, the prowess of the barbarians far surpassed our own. They sped at the swiftness of a young stallion; they raised stone like pots of butter, and scaled cliffs with the adroitness of a squirrel. In all manners, that be physical, we are the lesser.

I summoned my compatriots, who expressed the same unease that gnaws at my soul. How couldeth it be that primitive creatures without any clear distinction of physical superiority displayed to the contrary? The answer eludes me. Our meeting adjourned with the conclusion that this mystic land conceals more secrets than we have hitherto perceived, that these barbarians are more surreptitious than charted. We have heightened our awareness and will continue to study the heathens with discretion. I remain steadfast in my belief that deceit and sin lie at the core of their being. We shall prove they err towards a speedier downfall.  

September 30, 1592

Alas, their perfidy stands revealed! At dawn by the shore, mine eyes beheld a Surp'nte elder approacheth the thicket of the "sacred berries." His demeanor prior to ingestment of said berries was slow, demure, and displayed a shadow of vigor. My men and I watched as he ate from the bush merrily. Unaffected and unmoved by the supposed toxicity of the fruit, instead, he was nigh invigorated; no longer did he move with such debilitation but rather forceful, upright, and proper, empowered by its essence. My men and I reared in astonishment and summarily apprehended the man. Tefi was summoned, and Percy relayed to us that the berries are indeed toxic, exempting the Surp'nte folk who haveth purportedly weathered their stomachs to withstand its bite. A dubious assertion if I ever heard one. This blatant indignation surged through our ranks. We rallied against the knaves. All those we could muster were led to the camp and have been held in our stalls, bounded by wrist and ankle. Our sentinels stand vigilant, for we are certain to have stoked the savage spirits of their unreported kith and kin. I beseech thee, O Lord, grant them the folly to assail us, for they shall feel the powder from my pistol and steel of my blade in their bellies!

October 1, 1592

The heathens are at our doors. Their clamorous cries trill akin to the demons that accompany Lucifer himself. Yet we remain resolute, for their pitiful spears and bows are no match for powder and tempered steel. Furthermore, before their siege, my men gathered all the "sacred" berry bushes we could manage. Tearing root and stem asunder, we concocted a draught of these forbidden fruits. As my quill scratches this parchment, a small bowl and chalice lay before me filled with the berries and its yield. I am eager to feel its effects anon. I shall take my share tonight, and upon the morrow, I will record for posterity the triumph over these savage dogs and wholly claim this land for God and Country. The date is marked. Let it be known that this day shall be a glorious day that willeth echo in the annals of history for all time!

October 2, 1592