Chapter II

He was allowed to take his seat on the council on the tenth of June. Eleven days later the Reverend Robert Hunt gave Communion to all. Captain Newport, having dined ashore that Sunday, invited the leaders to supper on his ship. He sailed the next morning to report the grim time which the colonists were having without sufficient supplies. Smith wrote: "Our drink was water, our lodgings, castles in the air."

Every man was doled out three ounces of bread, and a skimpy helping of bran and water. Typhoid and malaria took their toll. Weakened by both diet and disease, they staggered as they toted logs to the fort, and they made a pitiful spectacle for any Indians or spying Spaniards who may have seen them. While wheat grew as high as a man's head within seven weeks of the planting, there was not enough to satisfy the hungry.

By mid-June the fort was built on a low and level half-acre, which was shaped like a triangle. There were streets of occupied houses--each of which had about thirty feet clearance of the palisade. Mud or thatched-reed clamped heavy roofs on the early huts, making them suffocatingly hot. Added to this misery, the eating of molded corn and drinking of brackish water downed nearly all, and killed half of the colonists before the summer had passed. Once only five men were up and about. "Had we been as free from all sins as gluttony and drunkenness we might have been canonized," observed Smith.

Unwilling to be among the downed, he cured himself somehow and learned to subsist on crabmeat and sturgeon, going foraging, trading and exploring up and down the rivers with a few hardy survivors. He heard a great deal about the great Powhatan whose realm included all of the country from the Roanoke River in the south to the head of the Chesapeake in the north. His chief seat was upon the north side of the York River at Werowocomoco.

As Smith crept up the James River in his shallop, guileless Indian swimmers beckoned him on. Taken in by Smith's friendly greetings, they opened the doors of their bark-covered wigwams, where Smith, a natural and welcome democrat, sat down and ate as one of them. He noted that their canoes were often carved out of single trees, that their oval-shaped wigwams were made of bark upon a framework of saplings, and that their gardens produced cymblings, beans and corn as well as tobacco.

Soon he was paying return visits to the same places in order to trade for corn, but hospitality soon gave out, if corn did not. They even scorned the beads with which he tried to bargain. Counting on relegating them to their timid places, he fired some muskets, putting the dickering savages to flight. These white devils were surely "sons of thunder" they decided, with their "fire-sticks" and their "thunder tubes."

Now, with cool weather, things seemed better. Smith assured the forlorn colonists that this was a sportsmen's paradise with sturgeon in the sea, squirrel and deer on the land and quail in the air.

All was not peaceful within the palisade, however. Edward Maria Wingfield was unpopular as President, and all resented his hauteur and the luxuries which he allowed himself while others had short rations. Smith went along with John Martin and Captain Ratcliffe to bear grudges. What about the bad corn which he had allotted to them? He would not let Ratcliffe have so much as a penny whittle, a chicken or a spoonful of beer. Besides, he had called him, Smith, a liar! They won out and Wingfield was deposed, Ratcliffe being elected in his place.

Smith himself, when he came in and out of Jamestown, was busy preventing efforts of both Ratcliffe and Wingfield to abandon the country. He was not yet even the nominal leader of these people but there was a bold streak in him that darted ahead of the herd. Nothing stumped him--not even a huge tree sprawled in the Chickahominy River which halted his boat. Leaving seven of his men in that, he needled his way recklessly ahead in a canoe with two companions and Indian guides, sailing rashly right into a trap. Two hundred warriors were hunting deer with crafty Opechancanough, brother and heir to the chief. They had counted on trapping a dozen of the timid creatures within a rim of fire, where their arrows would settle matters briefly; but when they trapped the cockiest of all palefaces instead, they were exultant. They had not expected this, although they scorned the English efforts to hunt--noisy, boasting men that they were. Indians let only their arrows clip the quiet air, tipping silently, natural Nimrods of these woods, where no white man was at home, nor welcome.

They had first captured a hapless Englishman who had strayed from the barge against Smith's orders, and who did not help matters by tattling that Smith was at large. They scraped off his skin with mussel shells, and roasted him alive and when they found Smith and his friends, they did away with all but the leader with similar unscrupulousness. Resting on their laurels, they now took their time with him as much for their own amusement as his torment. They were amazed at the nerve with which he defended himself to the end. First, he thrust his Indian guide in front of him as a shield, attaching him to his right arm with a garter, then he felled several Indians before he sank waist deep in the morass like a fly in glue, flapping his wings hopefully until grounded.

"Your men and your canoe have gone. Hand over your arms if you prefer to survive them," taunted the chief. They tied him to a tree, shooting twenty arrows his way, none of which did him much harm. In the nick of time, Smith now pulled a trick from his sleeve. When he held up a compass in an ivory case, the naive onlookers blinked at the tiny magic arrow under a transparent crust of glass. Wonderful how you could not feel that arrow with your fingers, yet it went on pointing its stubborn way just like its owner!

"This is a compass. It points North, and that is the way it told me to go until you stopped me. It shows me the way out of any dilemma anywhere in the world, and I have been to most places."

"Not this one, my clever Captain Smith," reminded Opechancanough, who knew he had him now. Except that he was entertaining his captors, he would not be dangling this mysterious toy. This moment was amusing to all around but Smith himself. Still a humorous glint in Smith's eye warned him not to be so sure about that. "And where is North?" wondered the chief, whose hungry mind got the better of his discretion.

"Did you not know of the four winds, North, South, East, West? I have followed them everywhere, and will keep doing it at your kind permission. I am an explorer. I seek the great salt sea just beyond. I have crossed one already, and many other waters. My companions flung me into the Mediterranean like poor Jonah of old. But the Lord looked out for me too."

"Who was Jonah?"

"Quite a fellow. He had a way with fish. You know we tried to catch some in frying-pans, yours are so bountiful. Then we decided fish first, fry afterwards."

"You know nothing of sport. You make too much noise in the woods and along the streams. If you have been around as much as you say, you should know better. You talk too much, but I would hear you out. Tell me some more about this God of yours. I have heard of Captain Smith's God!"

They had a wholesome respect for the Smith God, the Smith nerve, and the Smith tongue, which was no laggard in any language. All these attributes stood him in good stead now, but it would not be for long. Smith lapsed into a long harangue about the mysterious ways God moved, his wonders to perform, and the mysterious doings of the universe. "Know ye not that the earth is round, it doth move, and the sun also?" He made grand gestures describing the movements of the planets.

"What goes on in the world away?" Opechancanough just had to know. Curiosity killed a cat, but it was not going to kill him, for he was sparing Captain Smith long enough to empty his mind like a casket for his captor. What a captive he had bagged! He had none of his big brother Powhatan's tolerance of the invader. Powhatan was old, fat, and rich--not enough fight left in him. The people should see what manner of chief was heir to his dozen tribes, and what a white beast he had leashed. He sent couriers ahead so that no village between here and Werowocomoco should fail to note the parade he made of this captain with the bristling red beard, the flexing muscles, and the bragging airs. He arranged a square of twenty warriors around him--one with tomahawk to the left, another with tomahawk to the right of him, and a straggling, painted and feathered queue bringing up the rear.

John Smith, a swaggering Elizabethan on any stage, however humiliating his role, contrived to look as if he had matters quite in hand, even though his hands were tied. Although he had apprehensions about the medicine man's rites at night he did not bat an eye, later did not close one. Opechancanough had planned this ceremony to make sure that Smith was shorn of whatever magic still lurked in his being. He had already handed over his compass to the chief, of his own accord. Hungry as he was, Smith had little appetite for the quantity of food offered him, and he spurned it at first, until he had made sure that it was not poisoned.

"You'd make a nice meal yourself, paleface. Admit we are feeding you well. That is an old custom of ours. We fatten our captives for the slaughter."

"Cannibals?" insinuated Smith, insolently.

"Algonquins. You should know. You talk our language. Your head is full of too much if not your stomach. I'd like to scalp a bushy head like that."

"Then why don't you?" Smith wondered coolly.

"I'm just the chief's brother. He saves the best of everything for himself, including the privilege of doing away with you how and when he likes. He has a line of scalps drying between trees in his back yard every morning. Old as he is, he has the pick of young women about. You will see a young one on either side of him, and a row at the back of the discarded ones, about twenty. He hands them down to favorite warriors, in order as he thinks them most deserving. Mind you, don't cast a speculative eye on any of those. You are not a favorite warrior, nor even a favorite captive." He suspected that this brave man might have a way with women. "All the women you see, all the feasting will be to tantalize you, all to make you appreciate how excruciatingly sweet life can be, when your minutes are numbered."

Smith's bluff was being called. He was frightened over Powhatan's power over many tribes, but most just now over his own hide. He admitted to himself that he was intimidated by this emperor, as he was led into his long house, and in awe of his strange dignity. This savage chieftain reclining on a couch-like throne could show King James how majestic a monarch should look. His face wrinkled, round and ugly, seemed to be carved of granite, and it neither crinkled with mirth nor softened with mercy. He wore pearls about his neck and a raccoon mantle about his shoulders. He had two handmaidens bring to Smith, first, a basin in which to rinse his fingers, then feathers to dry them. The other women surrounding him, as his brother had described, were silent and motionless.

A certain little girl in their midst was more moved than any by Smith's brave appearance, and his fascinating self-defense. Earnest concern for him made her look more serious than usual, for all her names described her sunny nature--Pocahontas, they called her, meaning "Playful," "Bright Stream between Two Hills," "Quick Water," "Sunlight Running Through Darkness." She was as blithe and trusting of the stranger as her father and uncle were wary.

Opechancanough introduced him as the dangerous enemy of the red men, the toughest and craftiest of his tribe. He showed the compass, and told of how cleverly Smith had defended himself single-handed. If his brother wanted peace at any price, now was the time to annihilate this most dangerous of the invaders.

Powhatan listened without changing his expression. "Now what can you say for yourself, paleface?"

John Smith said as much as he could, and that was always a great deal. He boasted of the places to which he had been, miraculously guided by his compass. He had decapitated three Turks with his sword. If any did not believe it, they had only to observe his arms.

Powhatan inquired with superb scorn: "Why have you and your people come into my land without an invitation?"

Smith fibbed: "We had to land while struggling both with our old enemies, the Spaniards, and the weather."

"Then why did you come up so far in your boat?"

"We were seeking the back sea for salt water. Besides we wanted to avenge Newport's child who had been slain by the Monacans." He invented this one, knowing that the Monacans were Powhatan's enemies.

Powhatan could not swallow so many answers whole. Nothing Smith had said seemed to have made a dent on his equanimity after several conferences, and Smith, who read faces, began to foresee his doom. "Lay the death stones beside the fire," commanded Powhatan of two warriors. As soon as that was done, he motioned to several others to pick him up and lay him thereon.

Facing first Powhatan's granite countenance, and now the stones, Smith knew that he had struck real barriers. He was numb with despair as tomahawks were raised to brain him. His usual imagination could not make him hopeful.

Pocahontas, as fleet of foot as of heart, darted in the way of the tomahawks. Smith, barely conscious and having committed his soul to Divine Mercy alone, broke into a cold sweat, as her soft dark cheek was pressed against his blanched one. "Save him Father to make toys for me and hatchets for you if you like."

Powhatan did not like it, but he paused to ponder, as the tomahawks hung heavily over John Smith's head.

The surly crowd, thirsting for blood, snarled "Pocahontas!" as this child meddled with grim manly business, Opechancanough's temper leading the fury. Was that fool brother of his going to let a child keep him from annihilating this captive? He ought to be on the throne instead of this weak indulger of children's whims, for no pampered daughter should challenge his will.

Powhatan had looked obdurate, but with the wilful whimsy of kings, he suddenly changed his mind, motioning to the warriors to stay their tomahawks.

"Certainly my daughter can have her wish, if the life of this queer captive appeals to her. I am the Chief, and she is my playful one, my Pocahontas."

John Smith scrambled to his feet. "At your service, sire. Hatchets for you too, as she says."

"I will indeed find need of such stern weapons instead of toys. I should like some of your swords and fire-tubes too."

"You flatter me. As if I could produce those at will!"

"I think so. You can do anything you say. I hear there is no lack of them in your men's hands. Give me a few days to ponder our future relations. Meanwhile, amuse the child. You owe her that at least."

Pocahontas was enchanted. She sat first at John Smith's feet, then climbed up on his knee, where she listened spellbound to his tales of Londontown, especially of the Tower where the little princes with corn silk hair had pined away and been murdered by their wicked old uncle. "Must be like Uncle Opechancanough," she shuddered.

"Poor things, they didn't have a Pocahontas to save them."

"Who is left yet in the tower?"

"There is a noble knight named Raleigh who started us coming over on this side. He flung down his velvet cloak across a mud puddle for Queen Bess to tread on. I would do the same for you, little Princess, only I have no velvet cloak. I am a poor man."

"Very poor?" she wondered solicitously.

"So poor, that once I went begging. They hold that against me down in Jamestown."

"As if you could help it! Do you go hungry now?"

"Ravenously. We eat parched and molded corn."

"Ugh. I shall bring you rich dishes from Powhatan's table, and corn for your men, if they do what you tell them."

"This is exactly what they will not do. They had me in chains until the secret orders were revealed saying: 'You must put Smith on the council!'"

"Secret!" She clapped her hands. Then somebody did appreciate her wonderful Captain. "Then we are your people. I shall call you Father for I love you just as much as I do Powhatan. Now you must tell me all about yourself before you become one of us. Tell about the fine Turkish lady, Tragabigzanda who looked out for you after the cruel Turks, too, put you in chains. She had dark eyes you say?" Then he liked them with dark eyes, and she liked that, but she did not like the idea of the lady, Tragabigzanda. "Was she very beautiful?"

"Oh, my yes."

"What were you to her?"

"A roving adventurer."

"Was she sad when you went away from her?"

"How should I know?"

"I will be sad if you go away from me. You will stay, won't you, a long time? Powhatan says you can live right by us."

Smith preferred to get himself home to Jamestown, for he felt surfeited with savage patronage. He was less pleased than he appeared by Powhatan's invitation.

"So soon? Have we not treated you like an honored guest instead of a helpless captive?"

"Indeed yes. But I am a man of affairs like yourself. I need to get back and get busy."

"My affair at the moment is to create peace between our peoples. I am an old man, and seek no fighting. Tell your friends to come and abide at the mouth of the Pamunkey. We will live as brothers, each in his own way, but combine against our common enemy."

Smith promised this or any suggestion now, just to get away.

"Well you may go then, and I will send my trusted Rawhide and other warriors to escort you. I only stipulate that each shall bring back one of your guns."

"Indeed they shall."

He thought of a way out of this on the two-day tramp through the woods home. Just out of Jamestown he breathed easier, but he made sure that they did not.

"See those big guns by the gates, friends? I want you to take them home to Father Powhatan."

"You know well enough that they are too big for us to lift. They would break our backs."

"You have not even tried. First let's see if they work as well as they were doing when I left. I want to give Powhatan our best."

He mischievously signalled to the gate-keeper to fire one, and it instantly shook a nearby tree into a spasm. Encrusted with ice as it was, every brittle twig scattered as far as it could go. So did one little, two little, three little, four little Indians.

Smith strode into the fort to tell his astounding tale on January 8, but kept mum about that hair-raising, but thanks to Providence and Pocahontas, not scalp-raising experience. Better not tell that one, lest he scare off colonists here, or in England.

His hearers were envious of his account of the food and furs at Powhatan's long house, but did not praise his prowess in felling several Indians single-handed. If he was as clever as all this, why did he not look out for his companions? Three white men were missing, notice.

They unreasonably tried Smith for that, as if he could have helped it. He threw up his hands in despair for the lot of them.