Part 2

"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.

III

Gabriel Archer was now a member of the council, and since he was unfriendly to Smith, he summarily had him arrested and tried. He would have been executed the following day had not Newport arrived from England in the nick of time and saved him.

Newport was welcome to all because he brought in the first relief supply as well as new settlers to back them up in their weak situation. Careless newcomers were blamed, however, for the disastrous fire which broke out a few days after their landing, and which licked up shacks, tents and pitiful personal possessions.

Those who groaned over their plight, were rebuked by the meekness of the Reverend Robert Hunt, who had lost his library--which might have been the nucleus of culture in the colony. They remembered how he had not complained before when he was more ill than any of them had been on the ship coming over. Contritely they built a church for him even though the palisade was not immediately replaced. A store and storehouse went up too.

Fifty new houses improved on the former ones. These had cool roofs of bark, instead of thatch, a page out of the Indian book. Besides they had "country chimneys" where a man might warm himself in winter at ease, provided he had a gun handy. Bright Indian mats decorated the huts. A bell in the church signified when work should begin and when it should stop. Since there was but one skilled carpenter, the rebuilding of the settlement after the fire seemed remarkable. The colonists were not industrious enough to suit Smith, however, who planned a letter to the Company telling them to send lumber from England next time. That would be cheaper than paying these lazy aristocrats.

Newport went with Smith to trade with Powhatan, letting Smith talk out a day first before he appeared.

"What about those guns my men were to bring back, but did not?" the great chief asked.

"I told Rawhide and another to tote home the two best we had."

"Big ones! You knew very well that they could not lift them. If you had given them small ones, we would have been quite satisfied."

"I did not want your gracious highness to think me more stingy than yourself." Smith kept a straight face if not a straight record. "They didn't even try to lift them."

"No wonder. You scared them with that thunder at your gates, and they ran home."

"You should have brave warriors. Mine too are sometimes cowards, and weak with hunger besides. We want corn."

"What shall you pay--guns?"

Smith diverted him with presents, but the Indian kept his disdainful manner.

"Captain Newport, it is not agreeable with my greatness in this paltry manner to trade for trifles and I esteem you a great chief. Therefore, lay down all your commodities together, and what I like I will take."

Smith artfully toyed with a string of blue beads. Their gleam would draw a brighter one in the eyes of Powhatan's young favorite.

The indulgent old man sighed "How much?"

"These? Why these are not for sale, your Highness. Blue beads are very rare. You can dye red and brown ones with berries, but these are imported, and their value high as the blue sky whence descends their radiance."

"How much?" plugged Powhatan. "I foolishly indulged one girl with your life. Now probably another must have your foolish bauble."

"I'll let you know tomorrow. I had not thought of parting with them."

By morning, Smith was having Indians load his boat with two hundred bushels of corn.

Newport was ever for conciliating the chief, and when Powhatan sent him twenty turkeys saying to send twenty swords back by bearers, he complied. Not so John Smith, when Newport was gone. This time the turkeys were kept, but the swords also--in English scabbards.

Powhatan was so riled when the swords were not forthcoming, that he told his men to get them by hook or crook. When Smith caught them pilfering he flogged them and imprisoned them. Powhatan now tried diplomacy, knowing how indebted Smith would feel to "Pocahontas, his dearest daughter." He sent her down to Jamestown to persuade him to release the prisoners. He asked Smith "to excuse him of the injuries done by some rash untoward captains, his subjects, desiring their liberties for this time with the assurance of his love forever." Smith delivered them to Pocahontas, "for whose sake only he feigned to have saved their lives and gave them their liberty."

Pocahontas, with her gay capers, amused all Jamestown enormously. If this had been a clown's act upon a London stage, or a traveling circus in the English countryside, it could not have put the discouraged colony into such a gale.

When Newport returned he brought back an idea of King James, of which Smith thought little. If they softened Powhatan up with civilized luxuries, they could handle him more easily. Therefore he should be crowned at Jamestown. Grudgingly, Smith went to see the hardy old monarch about it. He found him not "at home." Like a haughty host, perhaps, thought Smith. But when he saw what an elaborate entertainment Pocahontas had gotten up for him, he decided that no slight was intended.

She, a child raised in a heathen sensual court, arranged a show for him and his four men at which Smith was astonished. Powhatan's warriors, she knew, would have been enchanted by the dance number put on by older girls to amuse the strangers. Pocahontas had heard her people wonder how it was that the English came without women, stayed a long time and yet got on without them. Their pale women must have been too timid to come along, and they must be lonesome and bored without feminine allure around. Thirty girls wearing nothing but green leafy aprons pranced out of the woods, their bodies painted in various colors. Some wore antler's horns on their heads, and all were brandishing crude weapons that were less frightening than their wild contortions and fiendish yells. At first the men grabbed their own weapons in alert defense. The Englishmen were embarrassed by the brazen savage scene, and more so when the dancers ran to the woods to change to regular garb, for they now wound their arms about blushing necks, murmuring torridly "Lovest thou me? Lovest thou me?" "These nymphs the more tormented him than ever with crowding and pressing, hanging upon him, most tediously crying 'love you me,'" it was reported.

Pocahontas herself would have liked to ask John Smith that, for she knew that the welling adoration she had for him was growing faster than herself, and was something she would not put aside with childish fancies. She was sorry he was not pleased with today's entertainment, even when great platters of food were set before his men, and they were led to their rest by torches. He had business on his mind and looked relieved when Powhatan showed up in the morning.

"Your highness, our king across the seas lives in such grandeur as you can scarcely imagine. Newport tells me he was so troubled to find out that you did not have the sort of luxuries that befit a great werowance like yourself, that he sent back fine gifts for you."

"What then should a king have that I have not?"

"He wears a crown. A king is quite a fellow."

"Indeed. You speak the truth there. That is quite so."

"Come down to Jamestown and be crowned. We will be friends, and fight our common enemies the Monacans."

Powhatan looked him down cooly. "If your king has sent me presents, I also am a king and this is my land. Eight days will I stay here to receive them. Your father is to come to me, not I to him, nor yet to your fort. Neither will I bite at such bait. As for the Monacans, I can revenge my own injuries."

There was no course left for Newport and Smith but to trudge twelve miles over land, while they sent the cumbersome presents by water. First they proffered the red suit and cloak which Powhatan tried on grudgingly. He knew that he could strut, even in incongruous rigging. His row of women admired him, putting him in an amiable mood.

"What is this ewer and basin for?"

"Ablutions, Majesty."

His hands were quite clean, but he rinsed them to show that he could use such fixings. If a European peddler had been opening his bag, the chief could not have looked more dubious about purchases.

At last they approached with the crown.

"Please kneel, sire."

Indeed he would not an inch, not so much as a notch on a stick. Stiff as a stalk he stood, but every inch a ruler, defiant in the passing wind. Smith had already observed that he had never seen such majesty in any creature.

"It is customary for our monarchs to kneel. They are in a great church. A man of God anoints them."

"Your O'Kee?"

"His minister. It is not at all humiliating."

"Captain Smith's God?"

"Not mine alone. All believers, sire."

"I am not a believer."

"Will you kneel, sire?"

"A king kneels to none."

They must grin and bear it, so did both. As Smith described it: "At last by leaning hard on his shoulders he a little stooped, and Newport put the crown on his head."

It was awry, and more so as a pistol shot succeeded by a volley from the ship, made Powhatan spring up in an unkingly panic. "What is that?"

"A salute of honor to a king just crowned or born."

"I don't like it. I was born before any of you, if not crowned," he muttered grumpily, settling back on his throne. As a last disdainful thrust, he handed over his discarded cloak and moccasins. "Perhaps your king might like these." His eyes added: "To show how we dress up over here." Smith caught it.

On April tenth, 1608 Newport took away the mighty fallen Wingfield and the rebuked Archer. Ten days later Captain Nelson arrived with one hundred and two colonists and sufficient provisions for those on hand as well as for his own passengers. On his return trip he took off John Martin, a veteran colonist, who had cooled lately to Smith's blustering personality.

Smith got his punishment from nature as well as from people. In June he was bitten by a stingray fish while he was spearing it. He was so beside himself with pain that he jumped into the water to cool his agony. His companions were pessimistically preparing his grave without reckoning on his vitality. In a short while he had recovered not only his nerve but even his appetite, and by supper time he was eating that very fish and chuckling about it.

Usually, it was the others who were down, and he who had the situation entirely in hand. He made sure that the Indians always supposed that all was well whether it was or not. When the others on the boat were prostrate with illness, he covered them with a tarpaulin. Then, for the wily deception of the red enemy along the shores, he contrived a clever ruse. He stuck his mens' hats up on sticks like scarecrows, and he fastened the oars along the boat so that the intimidated Indians kept at a cautious and unobservant distance.

When he got back, he found that his own prestige in Jamestown was increasing inversely as that of Ratcliffe tottered. Ratcliffe's position as President had so gone to his head that he was having a palace built for himself. Smith stopped it in mid-air when he came back and heard other colonists hoot at their leader's silly pretensions.

When he returned on September seventh he found Jamestown the worse for his absence as well as for wear. At long last he was made President, on the tenth. He resented the London Company's complaints of the sorely tried colonists. The Company had threatened that if Newport did not bring back sufficient cargo this fall to pay his two thousand pounds of expenses that it would abandon the colony. In hot haste, Smith dispatched a scathing reply, and this fortified his gathering and overdue popularity. He stood in with the Indians better than others did, and he believed in friendly and adroit relations with them when possible. Leadership brought out his prime qualities: his zest for adventure, his hardihood for physical trials, and his bravery to the arrow's point. He believed in discipline and hard work, and calling to mind the strict habits of his school days, he made the sloven and surly bachelors walk-a-chalk. If they swore, water was dashed down their sleeves. They must brush their clothes, wash their hands, sing psalms daily--and like it! He thought this discordant group needed harmony as well as guidance every rousing morning. Mindful of God, the church was repaired; mindful of Mammon, too, the storehouse was covered. Early Virginia was more Puritan than it pretended. Smith also had the fort increased by three acres and had a pentagon made of it. He had men getting cedar, walnut and clapboard for buildings.