[XVII.]
POCAHONTAS TO THE RESCUE
After a weary circuit of the Indian villages Smith is brought to Werowocomico—He is received by Powhatan in the “King’s House”—The chiefs in council decide to put him to death—He is bound and laid out, preparatory to being killed—Pocahontas intervenes at the critical moment—Powhatan’s dilemma and Opechancanough’s determination—“The Council has decreed the death of the paleface”—“I, Pocahontas, daughter of our King, claim this man for my brother”—The Indian maiden prevails—Smith is reprieved and formally adopted into the tribe—They wish him to remain with them and lead them against his own people.
One morning, shortly after the episode of the medicine men, Captain Smith learned, to his great relief, that commands had been received for his removal at once to the capital. He had no idea what, if any fate had been determined upon for him, but he was heartily tired of the weary wanderings and suspense of the past weeks and ready to face the worst rather than prolong the uncertainty. Werowocomico, the principal seat of the “Emperor” Powhatan, was short of a day’s journey distant, and Opechancanough, with his illustrious prisoner, reached the town as the early winter night was setting in. The capital of the Werowance consisted of about thirty large wigwams, or “houses,” as the earlier writers called them, and a number of smaller ones. These for the nonce were reinforced by the tepees, or tents, of the many Indians who had come in from distant villages for the occasion which was no ordinary one. The large wigwams were made in the form of the rounded tops of the wagons called “prairie schooners,” which in the days before railroads were used upon the continent of North America for long-distance travel. These wagon tops were sometimes taken off and placed upon the ground to serve as tents, when the occupants would be lying in a contrivance exactly like the ancient wigwam in shape. The latter was commonly big enough to contain a whole family and sometimes harbored an entire band of fifty or sixty natives. In that case it had two rows of apartments running along the sides and a common hall in the middle. The structure was composed of a framework of boughs covered with the bark of trees or with skins—sometimes a combination of both.
Smith’s captors approached the capital in triumphal fashion, chanting their song of victory and flourishing their weapons in exultant pride. The town was prepared to give them the reception usually accorded to victorious warriors returning from battle. Great fires burned at frequent points illuming the scene with a garish light in which the bedaubed and bedizened savages looked doubly hideous. Chiefs and people were attired in all their fantastic finery and even the children made some show of tawdry ornament. The women had prepared food with even more than ordinary profusion and had laid the mats in anticipation of the prospective feasting. A double line of fully armed and foully painted warriors—“grim courtiers,” Smith calls them—formed an avenue to the “King’s house” along which the captive passed into the presence of the great Werowance, whilst the spectators “stood wondering at him as he had been a monster.”
At the farther end of the wigwam, upon a platform, before which a large fire blazed, reclined the aged but still vigorous chieftain, upon a heap of furs. On either side of him stood the principal chiefs and medicine men of the tribe, whilst the women of his family grouped themselves behind. Two dense walls of warriors lined along the sides of the wigwam leaving a space in the centre which was covered by a mat. Upon this Smith took his stand and calmly surveyed the scene which was not without an element of rude beauty. A loud shout had greeted his entrance. In the profound silence that followed, two women—“the Queen of Appamatuck and another”—came forward with food which they placed before him and signed to him to eat. Our hero’s appetite and his curiosity never failed him under any circumstances. He had a habit of living in the present moment and not concerning himself unduly about the uncertain future. So, in this crisis, when the ordinary man would have been too much preoccupied with the thought of his fate to attend to the needs of his stomach, Smith addressed himself in leisurely fashion to the pile of food and at the same time studied the details of his surroundings with a retentive eye. Meanwhile, the savages stood silent and stock still as statues until he had finished.
When at length our hero rose refreshed and ready to face his fate, Powhatan also stood up and beckoned to him to approach the royal dais. Powhatan was arrayed in his state robe of raccoon skins. A band of pearls encircled his brow and a tuft of eagle’s feathers surmounted his head. Smith was impressed by the dignity and forcefulness of the old chief who addressed him in a deep bass voice.
“The paleface has abused the hospitality of Powhatan and requited his kindness with treachery,” said the chieftain in slow and solemn tones. “The paleface and his brethren came to Powhatan’s country when the summer was young and begged for food and land that they might live. My people would have slain them but I commanded that grain be given to the palefaces and that they be allowed to live in peace in the village which they had made. Was this not enough? Did not Powhatan thus prove his friendship and good will to the strangers in his land?”
We know that all this was a mixture of falsehood and sophistry. As such Smith recognized it, of course, but, as he did not wish to arouse the chief’s anger by contradicting him, he decided to keep silence and an immovable countenance. After a pause, during which he endeavored without success to read the effect of his words in the prisoner’s face, Powhatan continued:
“Powhatan’s people have given the palefaces abundance of food—venison and fowls and corn. They have furnished them with warm furs. They have shown them the springs of the forest. They have taught them to trap the beasts and to net the fish. And the palefaces, scorning the kindness of Powhatan and his people, turn their fire-machines upon them and slay them. You—their werowance—they send to spy out the land of Powhatan so that they may make war upon his villages in the night time. Now my people cry for your blood. What shall I say to them? How shall I again deny my warriors whose brothers you yourself have slain?”
“The Powhatan mistakes the purpose of myself and my people,” replied Smith. “It is our wish and intent to treat our red brothers with justice and friendliness. If we have killed some it hath been in defence of our own lives. Our fire-machines have spoken only when the bow was drawn against us. It is not in our minds to make war upon the great Powhatan nor yet to rob him of his lands. Whatsoever we ask at his hands we are ready to pay for. If the great Werowance allows the clamor of his warriors for my life to override his own good judgment, so be it. But I would warn Powhatan and his chiefs that my death will be the signal for relentless war against their people, for I am the subject of a mighty king whose rule extends over lands many times greater than those of Powhatan, whose soldiers are as numerous as the stars in the heavens and whose ships sail the seas in every direction. He will surely avenge my death with a bitter vengeance.”