Some time had elapsed since Canochet had left his new friends, promising
that the war-hatchet should be for ever buried between his tribe and the
English. The settlers had begun to grow corn and tobacco, as well as to
form gardens in which vegetables of all descriptions were produced. The
surrounding natives visited them occasionally, but exhibited much want
of confidence, which it was the object of the governor to overcome. He
issued strict orders that all the Indians appearing among them should be
treated with courtesy and kindness, and any chiefs coming to James Town
were invariably sent away with presents and assurances of the good-will
of the colonists. Still it was a hard matter to do away with the
ill-feeling which existed in consequence of the hostile meetings which
had previously occurred between the colonists and the Indians, in which
many on both sides had been slain. At this juncture, one evening, as
the settlers were returning to their dwellings, the labours of the day
being over, the sentry posted on the look-out tower at one of the
corners of the stockade, gave notice that an Indian in hot haste was
approaching the town. As he came near he was recognised as an Indian
named Pomaunkee, who had frequently been at the settlement, and who
appeared to have a friendly feeling for the whites, although many
disputes had occurred between them and his people, in which several, of
the latter had been killed.
He brought, he said, disastrous intelligence. Captain Smith and his
followers had been attacked by a large body of Indians, who had murdered
all but the captain, who having been overcome after a desperate
struggle, had been carried captive to Powhattan, their chief. He also,
probably, Pomaunkee declared, would be put to death, unless Powhattan
would agree to receive a ransom for him.
The news, which was generally believed, created much dismay and
excitement among the colonists. Pomaunkee was conducted to the
governor, who examined him by means of an interpreter to satisfy himself
of the truth of his report. The Indian, however, persisted in his
statement, and at length the governor was convinced of its correctness.
Those attached to Captain Smith expressed a desire to send out a party
to rescue him, and all were ready to pay any ransom demanded. Among his
warmest friends was Master Rolfe, Lettice Audley's old admirer. He had
been prevented by an attack of illness from accompanying him, and was
now most eager to set off; Vaughan, Gilbert, and Roger begged that they
also might go. It was an opportunity not to be lost. Neither Captain
Layton nor Mistress Audley could withhold their consent. As they were
getting ready, Fenton and Oliver Dane came and offered their services;
they were aware of the risk, but they could endure fatigue as well as
older men, and such danger as was to be encountered they did not dread.
Gilbert was very glad to find that they were to go. As the two seamen,
Tarbox and Flowers, were supposed to have some acquaintance with the
natives, they were also selected to form part of the expedition which
was placed under Master Rolfe's command. Pomaunkee offered to act as
guide; and though the governor somewhat doubted his fidelity, his
services were accepted.
The party, thoroughly armed and confident in their numbers, set off in
high spirits, glad to have escaped at length from the daily routine of
the settlement. Mistress Audley, Lettice, and Cicely could not see them
depart without feeling much anxiety. Captain Layton would gladly have
accompanied them, but a long tramp on shore did not suit his legs, he
observed; and he had moreover to look after the ship and to be ready to
protect Cicely and Mistress Audley and Lettice. The expedition had been
kept as secret as possible, that the natives might not hear of it and
give information to the neighbouring tribes.
Roger, Fenton, and Oliver had been up for some time, eager to set off,
and at early dawn the whole party filed out of the town, taking a course
to the north-west. They proceeded rapidly, as it was important to
escape the observation of any of the natives visiting the town who might
carry information of their approach to Powhattan. As far as they could
discover, they were observed by no one, and several miles were
accomplished without a native being met with. The country through which
they passed was in some parts open and level, in others covered by dense
forests, many of the trees being totally strange to them. They had to
cross numerous limpid streams, so that they were in no want of water.
Several deer started from their coverts in the forest and bounded away
over the plain, sorely tempting the travellers to follow them; but
Master Rolfe, like a wise leader, forbade his men to separate in chase,
lest the natives might take occasion to attack them. Gilbert and Fenton
generally marched together and brought up the rear; it was the post of
danger, but they were both known to be active and intelligent, and would
keep as bright a look-out as any of the party. As they marched on, they
held converse together.
"What think you of our guide, Pomaunkee?" asked Gilbert; "I watched him
when we halted for dinner, and it struck me that I had seldom seen a
less attractive countenance, or one more expressive of cunning. I
expressed my opinion to my brother Vaughan, but he replied that Master
Rolfe has perfect confidence in the man, having had frequent intercourse
with him."
"I agree with you," answered Fenton. "I too watched him when he did not
observe me; and it will be well to keep a look-out on him, though we
must take care not to let him discover that he is suspected."
Evening was now approaching, when Rolfe, who had a soldier's eye, was
looking out for a fit place for encamping. At a little distance he
espied a rocky knoll rising out of the plain, with a stream flowing
round its base on all sides. He at once saw that it would be a good
spot for camping and might serve at some future time for the
establishment of a fort. Pomaunkee, however, to whom he pointed it out,
urged that they should continue on a mile or two farther, observing that
the forest would afford greater shelter and warmth during the night, and
that he would conduct then to a more fitting spot on the bank of a
river.
"I am very sure that your proposal, Rolfe, is the best," observed
Gilbert, who overheard the Indian's remark; "we shall be the better for
a cooler air at night, and moreover free from mosquitos on the top of
the knoll. Allow Fenton and me to explore it, and we will quickly bring
you word whether it is likely to prove as suitable for encamping as you
suppose."
Rolfe having consented to this, Gilbert and Fenton set off. They
quickly came to the conclusion that a better place for camping at night
in an enemy's country could not be found, as, with proper vigilance,
they were not likely to be surprised; and, if attacked, could easily
defend themselves against vastly superior numbers, especially if they
had time to erect stockades at the more assailable points. The river,
which flowed round three sides, was too deep to be forded; while rough
rocks, a dozen or more feet in perpendicular height, formed the greater
portion of the remaining side. They hurried back with this information,
and, encountering Vaughan, who had come to meet them, persuaded him to
induce Rolfe to act as he proposed, in opposition to the Indian's
suggestions. Pomaunkee could scarcely conceal his annoyance; he,
however, being unable to offer any further reason for proceeding, was
compelled to follow the commander. Preparations for camping were soon
made: some brushwood at the foot of the knoll was cut down to supply
fuel. Gilbert, whose suspicions of Pomaunkee were increased by the
opposition he had offered to the selection of the place, suggested that
some stout stakes should be cut, and fixed on the side of the hill where
the slope, being less abrupt than in other places, might be more easily
mounted.
While these arrangements were being made, Gilbert and Fenton, who had
been, according to their intention, watching Pomaunkee, saw him descend
the hill and go in the direction of the forest. In a short time they
lost sight of him among the trees.
"We ought not to have allowed him to go," observed Gilbert; "and even
now I would advise Rolfe to send some men after him to bring him back,
in case he may purpose to desert us altogether."
"The sooner we do so, then, the better," said Fenton; and together they
went to Rolfe, who was at the time on the other side of the hill, and
told him what they had observed.
"The Indian, I know, is faithful," he answered; "and I cannot suppose
that he has any intention of playing us false."
Vaughan, however, agreed with Gilbert, and at length persuaded Rolfe to
send Tarbox and Flowers, with two other men, to follow the Indian and to
bring him back, should it appear that he was deserting them. Meantime,
the fires were lighted, pots were put on to boil, huts formed with
boughs were set up to serve as a shelter from the night air, and all
other arrangements for the night encampment were made. It was nearly
dark when Tarbox and the other men with him returned, stating that they
had once caught sight of Pomaunkee in the distance, but before they
could get up to him he had disappeared, and that after having searched
in vain, they had judged it time to return.
"His disappearance without telling me of his intention, looks
suspicious," observed Rolfe, "and I thank you, Gilbert and Fenton, for
the warning you gave me. He may intend treachery, or he may simply have
grown weary of guiding us, and, Indian fashion, have gone off without
thinking it necessary to tell us of his intention. In either case, we
will strengthen the camp as far as time will allow."
"For my part, I am glad to be rid of him," observed Gilbert; "and, aided
by our compass, we can find our way without his guidance."
Supper was over; the watch was set, the officers were seated round their
camp-fire, discussing how they should proceed on reaching Powhattan's
village on the morrow, when the sentry gave notice that an Indian was
approaching from the side of the forest.
"After all, we have wronged Pomaunkee, and he is returning," observed
Rolfe.
"Not so certain of that," remarked Vaughan, who had now begun to
entertain the same opinion of the Indian as his brother; "he may have
been absent on an errand not tending to our advantage, and it will be
well, if we do not hold him in durance, that we watch him even more
narrowly than before."
"Let us, at all events, learn what he has to say for himself," observed
Gilbert, rising, Vaughan and Fenton accompanied him. The Indian
ascended the hill, and the sentry, believing him to be their guide,
allowed him to pass without challenge. As he got within the ruddy glare
of the fire, instead of the forbidding countenance of Pomaunkee, the far
more pleasant features of the Monacan chief, Canochet, were brought into
view. Vaughan and Gilbert greeted him warmly.
"I am thankful that I have arrived in time to warn you of intended
treachery," said the chief. "He who undertook to be your guide, has
formed a plot for your destruction. I gained a knowledge of his
intentions, and instantly followed on your trail to warn you. On
passing through the forest, I found that you had come hither, and was
following you when I caught sight of the traitor. I tracked him,
unseen, till I found he had joined a large body of his tribe, who are
lying in ambush about a mile from this. On discovering them, I had no
doubt that he intended to betray you into their hands. As I thought
that even now he might hope to attack you unawares, I hastened to bring
you warning, that you might be prepared, should he attempt to surprise
you. I myself would remain, but my single arm could not avail you much,
and I should render you more aid by returning to my people, who, though
they are still at a distance, I may yet bring up in time to assist you."
Rolfe, on hearing this, thanking Canochet for the warning he had given,
begged him to hasten on his tribe, though he doubted not that he could
hold out against any number of savages Pomaunkee might collect to attack
him.
"You call them savages," observed Canochet; "but remember, except that
they do not possess firearms, they are as brave and warlike as you are;
and as they know the country and are full of cunning, they are not to be
despised. Take my advice: do not be tempted to quit your present
position till I return with my people. Depend on it, it will be their
endeavour to draw you away, so that they may attack you when you are
encamping in the forest or open ground."
"Your advice seems good, my friend," answered Rolfe; "but suppose you
are delayed? We shall starve here, unless we can procure food."
"Trust to my return before that time arrives," answered Canochet; "I
will endeavour to supply your wants. I must no longer delay, as every
moment is precious. It is my belief that you will be attacked this
night, so be on the watch. However hard pressed by numbers, do not
yield."
"You may depend on our holding out to the last," answered Rolfe; and the
Indian, without further remark, descended the hill, making his way down
among the rocks, so that, had any one been watching at a distance, he
could not have been discovered. Almost before he had reached the bottom
of the hill he had disappeared, and even Gilbert's keen eyes could not
detect him as he rapidly penetrated into the forest.
"If Canochet has spoken the truth, we have had a narrow escape,"
observed Vaughan. "We shall do well to take his advice and to remain
here, whether we are attacked or not, till his return."
To the wisdom of this, Rolfe and Roger Layton agreed, eager as they were
to hasten to the rescue of Captain Smith. Having completed their
fortifications as far as their materials would permit, six of their
party were told off to keep watch, while the rest lay down to sleep.
Roger took command of the first watch, for he suspected that the Indians
would attack them during the early part of the night. On going round to
the sentries, he found them standing upright, their figures clearly
discernible against the sky to any one approaching on the plain below.
Pointing out to them the danger to which they thus exposed themselves,
he directed them to crouch down, so that an enemy might have no mark at
which to aim.
"I fear, sir, that some of our fellows may be apt to fall asleep,"
observed Ben Tarbox, who was one of those in the first watch.
"Do not trouble yourselves about that," answered Roger; "I will take
good care that they keep awake. If any one of you catch sight of a
moving object, do not fire till you hail, and then, if you get no
answer, take good aim, and do not throw a shot away."
The men promised obedience. There was little chance, while Roger Layton
was on watch, of the fort being surprised. The first watch went by
without the slightest sound being heard, or an object seen outside the
camp. The second was drawing to a close, when Ben Tarbox exclaimed:
"Who goes there? Stand up like a man, or I'll fire at you!" His shout
caused all the sleepers to raise their heads. The shot which followed
made them seize their weapons and start to their feet! Scarcely had the
sound of the shot died away, when the most terrific cries and shrieks
rent the night air, followed by a flight of arrows which whistled over
the heads of the garrison as they hurried to the stockades, and a
hundred dark forms showed themselves endeavouring to make their way amid
the rocks up the hill.
"Let each of you take good aim," cried Roger, "and load and fire as fast
as you can."
The order was obeyed; the officers, who had also firearms, setting the
example. The Indians, who had expected to surprise the white-faces,
found themselves exposed to a blaze of fire from the whole side of the
hill, up which they were attempting to climb. Still, urged on by their
leaders, they mounted higher and higher, in spite of the many who fell,
till they reached the stockades. Some of the more daring, attempting to
hack at the English with their tomahawks, were pierced with pikes and
swords wielded by the stout aims of Rolfe, Roger Layton, the Audleys,
and Fenton; while their men kept firing away as rapidly as they could
reload their weapons. The Indians fought bravely, but unprepared for so
determined a resistance, they at length gave way, and retreated, one
driving back the other down the hill. Some were hurled over the rocks
by the victorious garrison, who, led by Roger, sprang out beyond the
stockades, and in another minute not a living Indian remained on the
hill.
"Hurrah, lads! we've beaten them!" shouted Ben Tarbox, giving a hearty
hurrah, such as he would have raised on seeing the flag of an enemy come
down in a battle at sea.
"Let no one go beyond the stockades," cried Rolfe, "we know not what
trick they may play us; let us not lose the advantage we have gained."
He spoke in good time, for Roger and Gilbert were on the point of
rushing down the hill in pursuit of the flying enemy. The wild uproar
which had lately reigned suddenly ceased; not a sound was heard--even if
any of the wounded Indians lived, they did not give vent to their
sufferings by uttering a single groan; and, as far as the garrison could
discover, the whole body of their foes had retreated to a distance. The
young leaders of the English, aware of the cunning of the Indians, were
not to be deceived; every man continued at his post, watching all sides
of the hill beneath them on which the attack had been made, as well as
the others round which the river flowed. Gilbert and Fenton had gone to
a rock overhanging the stream, a few bushes growing amid the crevices of
which afforded them shelter. Thence they could look down into the dark
water almost directly below them. Their muskets rested on the rock, so
as to command the passage; the only sound heard was the occasional cry
of some night-bird, which came from the neighbouring forest. Harry
Rolfe, Vaughan, and Roger continued moving round the hill, to be sure
that the sentries were keeping a vigilant watch. They knew that the
enemy they had to deal with was not to be despised. Although there was
no moon, the stars shone down from a cloudless sky, casting a faint
light over the plain. Two hours had gone by; the third was drawing on;
Gilbert and Fenton occasionally exchanged a few words in a low whisper,
to assist in keeping each other awake. At length Gilbert was looking
out directly ahead of him, when he caught sight, amid the tall grass, of
an object slowly approaching. It seemed at that distance like a huge
serpent making its way towards the river; now it stopped, and the grass
almost hid it from view; now it advanced, getting nearer and nearer the
river. Gilbert, afraid to speak, touched Fenton's arm, and pointed it
out to him.
"Is it a panther?" asked Fenton.
"No," answered Gilbert; "that is the head of a band of Indians; I can
trace them following one after the other. Wait till their leader
reaches the bank; I will aim at him, and you take the second. Their
intention is to swim across and attack us unawares; if they persevere,
we will raise a shout which will quickly bring our comrades to oppose
them."
Whether or not Gilbert's voice reached the keen ears of the Indians it
was difficult to say. The dark line remained perfectly quiet, and he
almost fancied that he must have been mistaken. At length, however, it
again moved on, and he could distinguish the form of an Indian crawling
along the ground, followed closely by another advancing in the same
manner. The first reached the bank, when, without even raising himself,
he glided down it, and, sinking noiselessly into the water, began to
swim across. The next followed in the same manner.
"Now," whispered Gilbert; and aiming at the swimmer, he fired. Fenton
did the same. A cry rang through the night air: it was the death-shriek
of the second Indian. The first disappeared, and Gilbert concluded that
he had sunk, shot through the head, beneath the surface. Rolfe, with
Vaughan and Roger, came hurrying to the spot, followed by several other
men. Gilbert, pointing to the opposite bank, exclaimed, "There they
are!" A volley was fired. Whether or not any of the Indians were hit,
it was impossible to say; probably, finding themselves discovered, they
had dispersed on all sides, and crouching down beneath the grass, fled
to a distance.
"We have foiled them again!" exclaimed Gilbert, exultingly; "they will
not venture another night attack, I've a notion."
"We must not trust to that," observed Rolfe; "they are as persevering as
they are cunning, and, though defeated half a dozen times, they may hope
to succeed on the seventh. That was but a small party who have just now
retreated, and it may be that the main body are watching their
opportunity to attack us on the other side."
"I believe that you are right," said Vaughan; "we must make up our minds
to keep on the watch till daylight, for even now the enemy may be
lurking round us, though we cannot see them."
Vaughan, while speaking, was standing up on the higher part of the
knoll, whence he could view the plain on every side.
"If there should be any Indians near, you are affording them a good
mark, brother," exclaimed Gilbert. Just as he spoke an arrow whistled
through the air close to Vaughan's head and flew completely over the
knoll. It was evidently shot by a person at the base, close down to the
river.
"I thought that I had killed the Indian," exclaimed Gilbert, "but he
must have found his way to the shore. If we are quick about it, we
shall take him prisoner--who will follow me?"
"I will! and I will!" cried Fenton and Tarbox, leaping down the hill.
"Stay, stay," exclaimed Rolfe, "there may be others lurking near."
Gilbert and his companions did not hear him, and in an instant had
reached the bank of the river at the spot from whence they supposed the
Indian had shot his arrow. They searched around, however, on every
side, but could find no one. Rolfe, still fearing for their safety,
again more peremptorily summoned them back. They returned much
disappointed at not having made the capture they expected. It was
scarcely possible, they thought, that the Indian could have crossed the
river, and if so, he must still be lurking concealed beneath a rock or
bush on the side of the hill, and might at any moment appear among them,
and strike a blow in revenge for those whom they had killed. To escape
this fate, Rolfe ordered the men to stand with their swords drawn and
their eyes on every side. Thus a single Indian had the power of keeping
the whole camp awake and wearing out their strength.
It still wanted nearly an hour to dawn, and before that time they might
be engaged in a more desperate conflict than the first. They could only
hope that Canochet would soon arrive to their relief. They would not
fear to encounter ten times as many as themselves in the open ground
during the day, but it would be madness to attempt to march through the
country when they would be certain to be attacked at night by
overwhelming numbers. With grateful hearts they welcomed the appearance
of the dawn, which as it rapidly increased exposed to their view the
surrounding country and the hill-side, on which lay the bodies of four
Indians, who had been shot dead during the attack. On the opposite side
of the river they discovered the body of the native shot by Fenton; none
of the bodies, however, as far as could be judged from their costume,
appeared to be those of chiefs.
As soon as it was broad daylight, Rolfe allowed Gilbert and those who
had accompanied him at night to continue their search for the Indian who
had shot his arrow at Vaughan. He could nowhere, however, be found, and
they concluded therefore that he must have floated down the river, and
landed at some distance from the hill. Not wishing to allow the dead
bodies of the Indians to remain near them, they were dragged to the bank
and allowed to float down with the current.
As their provisions were running short, they anxiously looked out for
the arrival of Canochet, who, they hoped, would ere this have come to
their assistance. Something, they concluded, therefore, had detained
him. The fire was now lighted, and they cooked their morning meal.
"Should the chief not soon appear, I propose that we set out without
waiting for him," said Roger; "not finding us at the fort, he will
follow in our trail, and after the lessons we have given the Indians,
they are not likely again to attack us."
Rolfe and Vaughan, however, thought it would be more prudent to remain
where they were.
"Provided we had food, I should agree with you," answered Roger, "but
starvation is a tough foe to fight against, and for my part I would
rather face a whole host of Indians."
Still, as Canochet might certainly be expected in the course of the day,
Rolfe was not moved from his purpose. The party did not fail to keep a
bright look-out from their hill; chafing, however, at the delay to which
they were subjected. Gilbert and Fenton especially, with most of the
men, were eager to go on. Their last piece of venison was consumed, and
they were growing very hungry. As the two young men were seated
together on the top of a rock whence they could look out round them on
every side, Fenton exclaimed, "See, see, Gilbert! yonder is a deer--she
just showed her head from behind that thicket on the borders of the
forest--there is some sweet grass there probably on which she is
browsing. If we could steal up from to leeward, we might get close
enough to shoot her before she discovers us."
Gilbert looked in the direction Fenton pointed, and he too seeing the
deer, agreed that the opportunity of obtaining a supply of venison was
not to be lost. Slipping down from the rock, they made their way round
the base of the hill till they reached a spot directly to leeward of the
thicket near which they had seen the deer browsing. From thence they
advanced cautiously amid the high rocks and bushes till they got close
to the forest, believing every instant that they should see the animal
before them.
"She must have gone round to the other side," observed Fenton; and they
crawled on further. On looking back, Roger observed that they were
almost out of sight of the hill. Still, eager to get the deer, they
went further on, when they again caught sight of the head and shoulders
of the animal, grazing not where they expected, but a considerable
distance off in the forest. They might hit the creature, but should
they miss, it would certainly be lost to them; they therefore determined
to get nearer. At last, Gilbert was rising to his feet to fire, when he
heard Fenton utter a cry; bitterly had they cause to regret their folly
in having quitted the shelter of the fort.