(The Red Indians are heard shouting their war cries without. Arrows fly past. John Smith fires, loads, and fires again, talking all the time, while his native guide crouches back alarmed.)
Smith (laughing). Ha! ha! They like not my rifle-fire. They run, the dogs! Another bites the dust. (Patting his rifle.) Well done, thou trusty Bess—thou art a good lass! There! Have at them again. (Fires.) Good; another falls! But now they rally and come on again—their leader gives them heart. Well, and we will give them lead. (Fires again. To his guide, who is very frightened.) Cheer up. Gadzooks, but I like their leader—that last ball struck him, still he fainteth not. He leads them on again. By my head! but we shall yet have a decent fight of it. Aid me, St. George, and let me show what stuff an Englishman is made of. (As he presses forward the guide in his fear slips down and accidentally drags Smith down with him.) How now—fool? You have undone me.
(Indians rush in from all sides and spring on to Smith, and after a severe struggle capture and bind his arms behind his back. He stands panting and smiling. The Indians stand back to either side while Eagle's Wing—with one arm bleeding—addresses him.)
Eagle's Wing. So, devil, we have thee caught at last. Four good warriors hast thou sent to their happy hunting grounds, but our turn has come and we have thee fast—a prize for kings—and for our King.
Captain John Smith.
Smith. Well, 'twas a good fight, and you deserve to win for facing rifle-fire, which you had never seen before. I should like to shake you by the hand had I a hand free to do it with. But by St. George, had it not been for this white-livered knave who dragged me down, there would have been more of you to join your hunting-party down below. But who is this who comes?
(Scouts chorus heard without "Ingonyama," etc. Scouts all raise their hands and join in the chorus, looking off to the R.)
(Enter King Powhattan, R., w'th his chiefs and warriors.)
King. How now! Eagle's Wing, what have you here?