POWHATAN'S AMBASSADOR
Pocahontas was as good as her word. That same evening as soon as she had
exhibited her treasures to Powhatan and to his envious squaws and had
related her impressions of the town and wigwams of the palefaces, she
busied herself in getting together baskets of corn, haunches of dried
venison and bear-meat and sent them by swift runners to "her brother" at
Jamestown.
In the days following, though she played with her sisters, though she
hunted with Nautauquas in the forest, though she listened at night,
crouched against her father's knees before the fire to tales of
achievements of her tribe in war, or to strange transformation of braves
into beasts and spirits, her thoughts would wander off to the white
man's island, to the many wonders it held which she had scarcely
sampled. The pressure of her bracelet on her arm would recall its giver,
and she saw again in her mind his eyes, so kind when they smiled on her,
so stern at other times.
She thought too of the man she had seen rolled over by the barrel--of
how slowly he had risen. She knew that there was such a thing as
starvation, because sometimes allied tribes of the Powhatans, whose
harvests had not been successful or whose braves had been lazy hunters,
had come to beseech food from the great storehouse at Powhata. But she
herself had never before seen any one faint for food, and it hurt her
when she thought of the abundance at Werowocomoco, where not even the
dogs went hungry, to know that there were men not far away who must go
without. Her father made no objection when a day or two later she told
him that she wished to take another supply of provisions to the white
men.
"So be it," nodded Powhatan. "Thy captive shall be fed until the big
canoe he said was on its way shall arrive. He saith--though this be
great foolishness, since he cannot see so far--that at the end of this
moon it will come safe over the waters. But until the day of its
arrival, whenever that may be, thou canst send or carry of our surplus
to them. And hearken, Matoaka," he whispered that the squaws might not
hear, "thou hast wits beyond thy years, therefore do thou seek to learn
some of the white man's magic. There be times when the cunning of the
fox is worth more than the claws of the bear."
So every three or four days Pocahontas brought food to Smith, for his
own need and for that of his fellows. Sometimes, accompanied by her
sister or her maidens, she would go by night to Jamestown, and half
laughing, half frightened, they would set down the baskets before the
fort and run like timorous deer back to the forest before the sentinel
had opened the gate in the palisade in answer to their call. Sometimes,
with Claw-of-the-Eagle as her companion, she would walk through the
street of Jamestown, greeting, now with girlish dignity, now with
smiles, its inhabitants whose thin faces lighted up at sight of her.
She came to symbolize to them the hope in the new world they had all but
lost; they rejoiced to see her, not only for her gifts, but for herself.
They taught her to say after them a few words such as "Good-day,"
"food," and "the Captain," meaning Smith; and the possession of this new
and strange accomplishment was almost as dear to her as beads or
bracelet. The island for her was a place of enchantment. The sunset gun
from the fort awoke more thrills of marvel in her than the rages of a
thunderstorm; and the strangest medicine of all was the power the white
men had of communicating their wishes to others at a distance by means
of little marks upon scraps of paper.
One afternoon when she had come, accompanied by Cleopatra, she found the
streets and houses of Jamestown deserted. As they wandered about,
wondering what had happened to the palefaces, they heard the sound of
voices issuing from a rough shed beyond. They seemed neither to be
talking nor shrieking but chanting in a kind of rhythm such as she had
never heard. Quietly the two maidens followed the sound to the shed. It
was made of wood, open at the sides and roofed over with a piece of
sail-cloth. Crouched behind some sumac bushes still bearing aloft their
crimson torches, the girls looked on in wonderment, themselves unseen.
The sun was sinking behind them, behind the backs too of the colonists
who all faced the east. Then Pocahontas whispered to her sister:
"See, Cleopatra, they must be worshiping their Okee. Yon man all in
white before them must be a shaman."
A keen curiosity kept her there, though Cleopatra pulled in fright at
her skirt, whispering entreaties to be gone before some dire medicine
should fall upon them. She saw them all, when the chanting had ceased,
kneel down on the bare ground and heard them repeat some incantation
which she felt sure must be of great strength, to judge by the firmness
of the tone in which they all recited it. Their Okee, she thought, must
be a very powerful one; and there came to her as she crouched there, the
hidden witness of this evening service, the conviction that her father,
if he would, and even with all his tribes, could never conquer this
handful of determined men.
She was afraid that "her brother" might be angry with her for having
looked on at ceremonies that were perhaps forbidden to women or members
of other tribes; so, greatly to Cleopatra's relief, they slipped away,
leaving at the fort the provisions they had borne on their strong young
backs.
A few days later news came from Opechanchanough that the big canoe, so
eagerly expected by the strangers, had been seen at Kecoughtan and was
now on its way up the river. Powhatan was astounded, for it was the very
day the white captain had foretold its arrival. Truly a man who could
see so far across the waves of the big water was one to be feared. And
from that day the werowance had deep respect for John Smith and his
powers.
Now that the ship had brought provisions there was for a time no need of
aid from Werowocomoco. But only for a time. One day when Smith had
conducted Pocahontas over the ship to show her the wonders of this
monster canoe, he asked her to have her people bring food once more to
Jamestown.
[Illustration: VIRGINIA IN 1606--FROM CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH'S MAP]
"The sailors of Captain Newport," he explained, "are staying here too
long and are devouring much of the supplies designed for us. A strange
mania hath overtaken them, little Sister; they are mad for gold. They
believe that the streams about here are full of the dust they and our
men of Jamestown value more than life itself. It is more to them than
thy precious pocone, and as thou seest, they desert their ship and spend
their days sifting sand. If they are not soon gone there will be nothing
left for the mouths of any of us."
"Thou shalt not want, Brother," promised Pocahontas, and the next day
came the Indians with large stores of provisions. These Smith now bought
from them with beads and utensils and colored cloths. But the President
and the Council, jealous of the growing importance of Smith's relations
with the savages, sought to increase their own by paying four times the
amount Smith had agreed upon.
Discouragement met Smith with each morning's sun and kept him awake at
night. The colony seemed to take no root in this virgin soil; men who
would not work in the fields to raise grain toiled feverishly in search
of gold, forgetting that a full harvest would mean more for their
welfare than bags of money. Then, to add to the troubles, a fire started
one winter night at Jamestown and spread rapidly over most of the town,
burning down the warehouse in which the precious grain was stored. From
cold and starvation "more than halfe of us dyed," wrote Smith later in
his history.
Both with his own strength and by his example John Smith strove to his
utmost to rebuild Jamestown and to encourage the downhearted and to make
friends for himself among those who had listened to suspicions of his
purposes.
For a long time Powhatan had desired to secure weapons such as the white
men used, but the colonists had so far refused the Indians' request to
barter them. Now he determined to try other methods. He sent twenty fat
turkeys--each a heavy burden for the man who bore it across his
shoulders--to Captain Newport, asking that in return the Englishman
would send him twenty swords. Newport, whose orders from the authorities
in London had been not to offend the natives in any manner, had not
refused and had sent the swords in return. Then Powhatan, still eager to
secure a further store of weapons, had twenty more fine turkeys carried
to Smith, asking for twenty swords more. But Smith, who had been taught
by experience and insight many things about the relations which should
prevail between the colony and the Indians, knew how unwise it was to
give to an untried friend the means of turning against the giver. He
knew that the Indians respected his sternness with them more than they
did the evident desire of Newport and the Council to please them.
Therefore he refused. The disappointed savages showed their anger and
cried out insolent words against Smith.
Finding they could not weaken his decision, they sought to steal the
swords. They were discovered and Smith, realizing that the time had come
when a decided stand must be taken, had them whipped and imprisoned.
Some of the Council protested, declaring that this was the wrong way to
treat the Indians and urged that Powhatan was sure to resent their
action. How did Smith know, they asked, that these savages were acting
at the command of their chief? Was it not merely a sudden impulse of
anger that had led them to take what ought to have been given them?
But the prisoners, who believed in Smith's power to read the past as
well as the future, thinking it useless to try to hide the truth from
him, confessed that Powhatan had commanded them to secure the swords by
any method. Powhatan was now aware that his plan had failed and that it
was necessary for him to disavow the deed of his messengers. To convince
the palefaces of his good faith he must send some one to talk with them
whom they would trust. And so it was that Pocahontas went to Jamestown
as ambassadress.
Accompanied by slaves bearing presents of food, seed corn for the spring
planting and pelts of deer and bear and wildcat, Pocahontas was received
at Jamestown with much ceremonial.
"I bear these gifts from The Powhatan," she said to Smith, who always
acted as interpreter. "He begs thee to excuse him of the injuries done
by some rash ontoward captains his subjects, desiring their liberties
for this time with the assurance of his love forever."
The manner in which she delivered this little speech was so frank that
Smith knew she was ignorant of her father's real part in the theft. The
men had had their lesson, and Powhatan his warning, therefore clemency
might be effectively dispensed.
"Dost thou desire, Matoaka, that these men should be freed?"
"Oh, yes, my Brother," she replied eagerly. "Thou knowest thyself how
the trapped man or beast pines to escape. My heart is sad at the thought
of any creature kept in durance."
"And yet, little Sister," answered Smith gravely, while he watched her
quick change of expression, "I needs must deliver up these prisoners of
mine to another gaoler, to one who will treat them as sternly as thou
didst treat me at Werowocomoco."
Pocahontas's drawn brows indicated her endeavor to understand his
meaning.
"Wilt _thou_ be their gaoler, Matoaka?" he asked; and she, suddenly
comprehending his joke, laughed aloud.
The men were given into her custody and on her return home Powhatan was
much pleased with his daughter's embassy.
In September of that year Smith at last was made in name, what he had
long been in fact, the head of the colony. As President he could now
carry out his plans with less opposition. The building of new houses and
the church went on briskly; the training of men in military exercises,
the exploration of the shores of Chesapeake Bay--all these received his
attention. Master Hunt, the clergyman, whose library had been burned in
the fire, spent his time in encouraging the colonists, and twice each
day he held his services in the church for whose altar he melted candles
and gathered wild flowers.
In London the governors of the Colony had decided it would be a wise
thing to attach Powhatan still closer to the English settlement. Their
ideas of the position and character of an Indian potentate were very
vague indeed. They had been told that all savages were fond as children
are of bright colored dress and ornaments. So they reasoned that of
course this Indian chieftain of thirty tribes would be delighted with
the regal pomp of a coronation. They sent orders by the _Phoenix_--a
ship laden with stores which arrived that summer--that Powhatan should
be brought to Jamestown and crowned there with the crown they shipped
over for that purpose.
Smith, knowing Powhatan as none of the other colonists did, was not in
favor of this plan. It did not seem to him that a crown instead of a
feather headdress would make any difference to the werowance, whose
power among his own people needed no external decoration to strengthen
it. But he had no choice but to obey, so he and Captain Waldo and three
other gentlemen, went to Werowocomoco to bring Powhatan back with them.
On their arrival they found the werowance absent, whether by chance or
by policy. By this time Powhatan had lost some of his first awe of the
white men's wits and had concluded it was worth while to try and meet
strangers' wiles with wiles of his own.
"Where thinkest thou he can have gone?" asked Waldo. "I like it not.
Smith; mayhap he is e'en now preparing some mischief against us."
"I wish we had not harkened to thee. Captain Smith," said one of the
gentlemen, glancing nervously over his shoulder; "it was a fool's wisdom
to come thus without good yeomen with match-locks to frighten away their
arrows."
"Gentlemen," replied Smith, showing his vexation in his tone, "I tell ye
ye are in no danger if ye do not yourselves bring it about with your
looks of suspicion. Remember that all Werowocomoco is feasting its eyes
upon us, and bear yourselves as Englishmen should."
"Where was it they nearly brained thee, Captain?" queried the fourth.
"And not even thy friend, the little princess, is here to welcome thee.
Doth not her absence cause thee some anxiety?"
It did in truth set John Smith to wondering. He did not fear that any
harm was planned, but Pocahontas's absence was unexpected and he
wondered what its significance might be. He had been looking forward to
seeing his little sister again in her own home and had expected to enjoy
a talk with her which would not be interrupted as their conversations in
Jamestown always were by the many demands upon his time and attention.
Now that he was so much more familiar with her language, it was a
pleasure to discover what a maiden of the forests thought of her own
world and that strange world he had brought to touch hers.
The Indians who had come forward to welcome the white men now pointed to
a small meadow at the edge of the trees. They did not reply to Smith's
questions as to what he was to do there, but knowing that this spot was
sometimes used for special purposes. Smith led the way.
"Whither are we bound. Captain?" asked Andrew Buckler querulously. "It
doth not seem wise to go further off from our boat. If they mean harm to
us we shall have all the longer way to fight through."
"There will be no fighting to be done," declared Smith, not deigning
even to slacken his gait.
But just then loud shrieks came from the woods, and between the trees
dashed out a score or more creatures directly upon them.
[Illustration: Decorative]