"But suppose, Captain," said Bertram, with a grin, "you do not come back?"
"Wait for three days, if you see nothing of me then, turn the prow down stream, and make all haste for Jamestown."
"And what shall we say when we get there?"
"Say what you please," replied the Captain impatiently. "I don't doubt you will sprinkle plenty of falsehood in your words."
It was so much easier to go up the Chickahominy in the smaller boat, that Smith thought it likely he would continue the ascent of the river for several days. He meant to press on as far as he could go in the craft. Whether he should venture beyond that on foot must depend upon circumstances.
Thus five men entered the small boat, which, you remember, was provided with two pairs of oars, but had no sail. The white men did the rowing, while the Indians stoically looked on, willing, if asked, to take one of the blades in hand, and ply it as they were accustomed to use their own paddles.
At the moment of starting a slight flurry of snow carried the flakes against their faces, but it ceased in a few minutes, and the weather became more moderate than at any time since leaving Jamestown. This was pleasant, for no ice of account showed in the stream in which they must remain for some time to come.
Captain Smith had not been gone half an hour when those left behind in the barge boat gave voice to their discontent over the command he had laid upon them.
"It is unbearable to stay here for two or three days," said his namesake, who was seated at the bow, looking with a glum expression at his companions. "How shall we spend the weary hours?"
"We might fish," said Bertram with a grin.