Now even though Nathaniel Peacock and I had known more of suffering
and of sorrow, than of pleasure, in Jamestown, our hearts were sore at
leaving it.
It seemed to me as if we were running contrary to that which my master
would have commanded, and there were tears in my eyes, of which I was
not ashamed, when Nathaniel and I, hand in hand, followed Master Hunt
out of the house we had helped to build.
Those who had come from the shipwreck amid the Bermudas, were rejoicing
because they had failed to arrive in time to share with us the
starvation and the sickness, therefore to them this turning back upon
the enterprise was but a piece of good fortune. Yet were they silent and
sad, understanding our sorrow.
It was the eighth day of June, in the year 1610, when we set sail from
Jamestown, believing we were done with the new world forever, and yet
within less than three hours was all our grief changed to rejoicing, all
our sorrow to thankfulness.