In spite of this there were many who decried what Smith had done and said that he should have gone to the headwaters of the Chickahominy River and should not have returned without discovering the source of this stream. The idle and unruly in the colony complained that he had accomplished very little, and not sufficient to be applauded. Stung by their taunts, the spirited Captain again set forth (in the winter of 1607-8) to ascend the waters of the river. He took with him a crew sufficient to manage a good-sized barge, to which was attached a small "tender," or jolly-boat, which could go over shoal water and into bays and coves along the banks of the stream. With these he ascended the Chickahominy as far as possible, and then, leaving the barge in a broad cove where lurking Indians could not steal it, he pushed still farther up the stream in the tender, accompanied by two other white men and two friendly Indians. Those left behind were strictly urged not to go ashore.
But the sound advice was ignored by the foolish fellows in the barges, and, as soon as the bold Captain was out of sight, they scrambled to land and proceeded to explore the country. Their rashness came near being the cause of their annihilation, as fully two hundred and fifty Indians were lying in wait for them in the thicket. Under the direction of Opechancanough—Sachem of the Pamunkies and reputed brother of Powhatan—they made a sudden rush for the white men, but, although the attack was unexpected, they only succeeded in capturing one George Cassen, whom they compelled to tell them which way Smith had gone. After securing this information, they put the unfortunate captive to death in a cruel manner, and struck off through the tangled undergrowth in pursuit of the adventurous English colonizer.
The bold Captain had gone twenty miles up the river to the source of the Chickahominy, and, after poling through several marshes, had waded ashore with his Indian guide, to secure some game with his musket for supper. The two Englishmen who were with him had hauled up their boat and were lying down to sleep near a fire, when they were suddenly set upon by the Indians, who shot them full of arrows and killed them. Then the crafty braves spread through the woodland in search of Captain Smith, whom they soon overtook and surrounded, but the brave settler was not to be captured without a struggle, so, when he perceived that it would be useless for him to escape, he tied the young Indian who was with him to his arm (what happened to the other friendly Indian who was with him is not known) and, holding him in front of him as a shield, fired at the enemy and soon had three of them dead. He wounded so many others that they did not seem over-anxious to approach him. Meanwhile the savages kept up a vigorous fire with their bows and arrows; wounded the Captain slightly in the thigh, and shot many shafts into his clothes, but he still kept them off and walked in the direction of the shore. As luck would have it, he suddenly slipped and fell into the bed of a quagmire which he had not noticed as he kept his eye upon the foe. Sinking in the mud up to his armpits, and discovering at last that he was becoming benumbed with cold, he threw away his sword, musket, and pistol, and made signs that he would surrender. The Indians soon approached, drew him out, carried him to a fire, and carefully rubbed his body until he was able to stand up, for the cold quagmire had so benumbed him that he could not use his limbs.
Meanwhile the Englishman was devising some means of escape, and asked to see the leader of the Indians. Opechancanough was pointed out to him, and, with quick presence of mind, Smith drew forth the only trinket which he had with him, a round, ivory compass with a double dial, and presented it to the Indian Chieftain with a low and courteous bow. The savages all crowded around with eager curiosity and were perfectly astonished when they put forth their hands to touch the trembling needle and could not do so. Smith, meanwhile, lectured to them upon geography and astronomy, telling them that the sun continually chased the moon around the earth, that the earth and skies were round, and many other stories which were then current and were, of course, as wide of being the truth as were the Indians' own ideas. However, the savages stood amazed with admiration, and, although apparently pleased with what the Captain had told them, made preparations to execute him and tied him to a tree. As many as could stand in range now took aim at him with their bows and arrows. At this moment Opechancanough held up the ivory compass as a signal for clemency, and the Indians threw down their bows and arrows and gave up all attempts to put an end to the brave Englishman.
Now, forming in Indian file, the prisoner was carried to the village of Orapax by the savages, and, upon approaching the town, they were met by all the women and children, who stared at the white man in wonder and amazement, for it was the first "paleface" that they had ever seen. A war dance was next begun around the terrified Captain, and the savages screeched, sang, and yelled so wildly that the Englishman was sure that he had fallen among demons. But this affair was soon over, the Captain was taken into a long house, and here was guarded by full forty Indians, while corn bread and venison was brought to him that would have been sufficient to have fed forty men. He was given a warm mantle, as it was extremely cold, and each morning three women presented him with three platters of fine bread and more venison than ten men could eat. Thus he spent his days quietly, his mind intent upon an escape as soon as the proper opportunity should present itself.
The gallant Captain now astonished the Indians greatly by writing a letter to Jamestown, for how anyone could communicate to another by means of marks upon a piece of paper was a marvel to the simple-minded braves. He had torn a sheet from his memorandum book and had written to the Colonists, informing them that the Indians were contemplating an attack and giving them instructions to terrify the bearers of the note and to send him several articles. The Indians undertook the journey, although it was in the bitter cold of an unusual winter. When they neared Jamestown and saw the soldiers come out from the stockade, as Smith said that they would do, the fulfillment of his prophecy so frightened them that they fled panic-stricken, but left the note behind them on the ground. As night fell, they crept stealthily to the spot where Captain Smith had told them they would find an answer, and, there, indeed, were the very articles which he had promised them they would discover. The savages were surprised and awed by this show of what they supposed to be divine fire, and, giving up all idea of attacking Jamestown, led Smith from village to village until, at length, he was carried to We-ro-woco-moco, the residence of the great chief Powhatan, situated on the Pamunkey (York) River, in Gloucester county, about twenty-five miles below the mouth of the stream and at this time the great chief's favorite habitation. He afterwards retired to Orapax as he did not desire a residence near the English.
After his arrival at the village, Smith was kept waiting while more than two hundred warriors stood wondering at him as if he were a monster, and until Powhatan could make ready to receive him. After the old warrior had decked himself in his greatest bravery, the Englishman was admitted to his presence, while the Indians hailed his entrance with a tremendous shout. The Emperor was proudly lying upon a bedstead a foot high, raised upon ten or twelve mats. His neck was hung with chains of pearls, and his body was covered with raccoon skins. A woman sat at his head and another at his feet, while, on each side, upon the ground, were ranged his chief men, ten in rank, and behind them as many young women, each having a chain of white beads over her shoulders and with her head painted red. The Queen of Appomattuck was appointed to bring the Captain water in which to wash his hands, while another brought a bunch of feathers, instead of a towel, to dry them with. Many of Powhatan's retainers had their hair decked with the white down of birds, and none were without an ornament of some kind.
Two accounts of what now occurred were published by Smith in London. In the first Pocahontas is not mentioned; in the second, he tells a long story to the effect that she saved his life. The first account was written shortly after the gallant Captain returned to England in the year following; the second, sixteen years later, and after he had had time to reflect and to color his narrative in proper contemplation and leisure. Doubt has, therefore, been cast upon the second story, but I shall give you them both and allow you to select your own conclusion.
In the first narrative the Captain says that, "Powhatan kindly welcomed me with good words and great platters of sundry victuals, assuring me of his friendship and my liberty within four days. He promised to give me corn, venison, or what I wanted to feed us. Hatchets and copper we should make for him, and none were to disturb us. This I promised to perform, and thus having, with all the kindness he could devise, sought to content me, he sent me home."
In the second account, the valiant Smith states that, "Having feasted him (Smith) after the best barbarous manner they could, a long consultation was held, but the conclusion was, two great stones were brought before Powhatan; then as many as could lay hands on him dragged him to them and thereon laid his head, and, being ready with the clubs to beat out his brains, Pocahontas—the King's dearest daughter—when no entreaty could prevail, got his head in her arms and laid her own against his to save him from death; whereat the Emperor was contented that he should live in order to make him hatchets, and her, bells, beads, and copper, for they thought him as well capable of all occupations as themselves." This version has usually been accepted by historians.