CHAPTER XII.
CONCLUSION
Powhatan left no doubt of his friendly feeling towards Captain Smith when, six weeks after he started on his voyage up the Chickahominy, the sachem allowed him to return under guard to Jamestown. He received a warm welcome from his countrymen, and the Indians who had come with him were sent back to Powhatan with many presents for themselves, and still more for the American Emperor himself.
It is one of the many proofs of the fine character of Captain John Smith and of his great service to the colony, that, brief as had been his absence, the settlement had reached the verge of ruin. The little church had been burned, and the good minister held religious services under the trees. Of the more than a hundred men who had come across the ocean a few months before, only forty were alive. On the very day that Smith arrived at the settlement, the new President Ratcliffe and several of his friends had seized the pinnace-the only boat left-and were about to sail for England. This was the third attempt of that kind, and it was defeated again by Smith, who would have shot every man of them had they not come back to land and surrendered.
Now, what do you suppose was the next step of those wicked persons? You must remember that they had other friends, base as they were. They said that under the old Levitical law Smith was guilty of the deaths of the men that had been slain by Indians. They would have hanged him on the charge, had he not ended the business by arresting his accusers, and warning them that, if they caused him any more trouble, he would hang them all.
Woeful times now came to Jamestown. You would think they could be no more dreadful than those through which the settlement had already passed, but the poor people, besides quarrelling among themselves, began starving to death. The gaunt, famished settlers staggered along the single street, too feeble to rise when they stumbled and fell. All they could do was to creep into their cabins and lie down, moaning and waiting for death to end their sufferings. It looked as if not a man would be left alive, and about the only one who kept his feet and moved freely about was Captain Smith. He was always cheery and hopeful, and helped others by his good spirits, which seemed never to leave him.
But the day came when even this brave man saw no hope. He did not know where to get the next mouthful of food without going among the Indians, and his companions were too worn and weak to be taken with him. He would not leave them to their sad fate, but was ready to die among them, as he had been from the first.
Standing moodily on the outside of the palisades, with arms folded and looking off along the trail that led into the forest toward York River, he suddenly saw a strange sight. A girl came out from among the trees, bearing a basket of corn on her shoulder. He had hardly time to recognize her as Pocahontas when he saw she was followed by other Indians. On came the procession, until he counted eighteen. The one next to her was Nantaquas, and, filing after him, were other warriors, every one of whom carried a basket of corn or a haunch of venison. Providence had moved their hearts with pity for the perishing white men, and their timely visit with food saved them when, but for such kindness, all must have perished.
No wonder the grateful English ever after referred to the good maiden as "the dear and blessed Pocahontas." She came once or twice a week for months, bringing supplies through the woods from the York River to Jamestown. It was she who took the first step in this good work, and Powhatan was willing, for he felt friendly at the time towards the whites. Years after, in a letter to the Queen, Captain Smith referred to these acts of Pocahontas in the following quaint words:
"During the time of two or three years she next under God, was still the instrument to preserve this colony from death, famine, and utter confusion, which, if in those days had once been dissolved, Virginia might have lain as it was at our first arrival to this day."