Campfire Girls' Lake Camp; or, Searching for New Adventures

by Irene Elliott Benson; Stella M. Francis

It seems remarkable that more than a hundred years had passed since the discovery of America by Christopher Columbus, without seeing the planting of a single permanent English colony on this side of the Atlantic. All this time, too, England laid claim to the whole continent, because of the discoveries of John Cabot and his son Sebastian. Finally, however, in 1606, two great companies were formed for the colonization of America, one in Plymouth and the other in London. The efforts of the Plymouth Company ended in failure, but the other corporation was successful. In the depth of the winter of 1606, three vessels-the Sarah Constant, of one hundred tons burden; the Godspeed and the Discovery, each of forty tons, started across the Atlantic, under the command of Captain Christopher Newport. They carried one hundred and five men, but no women, and intended to settle at Roanoke Island, where the "lost colony" had disappeared some twenty years before; but they were driven farther north by a storm, and, with no idea of where they were, began hunting for a suitable place for settlement. They sailed into the broad opening of Chesapeake Bay, and were still roving northward when they were pleased with the appearance of a wide river, which flowed into the bay from the mainland on the west. They turned the prows of their little vessels into this stream, carefully studying the shores in their quest for an inviting spot.

It was the radiant month of May, with mild skies and soft breezes, which kept the craft steadily making their way against the gentle current. These hardy men, standing on the decks of their little vessels, and gazing at the shores, after being tossed about for months on the stormy Atlantic, were sure they had never gazed upon anything so beautiful. The banks were exuberant with brilliant wild flowers, whose sweet fragrance was wafted across the smooth waters, while the green hills and mountains in the distance were softened to the most delicate tints against the blue sky. The craft moved so slowly that the calm current made only the faintest rippling against the bows, and the bellying sails being once set, remained as smooth and unruffled as if they were so much painted canvas. All the attention needed was for the man at the helm to hold it steady, so as to keep the boat near the middle of the great stream.

Rich, emerald vegetation and gorgeous flowers were not all that caught the attention of the charmed Englishmen. There were men and women in this new country, descendants of those who had lived there for unknown ages. They were standing motionless on the shores, studying the approaching vessels with much the same emotions that must have come to the natives of San Salvador when they first caught sight of the caravels of Columbus. One party, among whom several women could be seen, stood on a slight eminence, a hundred or more yards back from the stream, as if afraid to come any nearer. The warrior in the middle was fully a head taller than his companions, and was observed to point one hand towards the vessels, as if calling the attention of the others to some peculiar features of the strange craft, the like of which none had ever looked upon before.

On the margin of the river, where there was a natural clearing of an acre or so, another party gathered, including also several women. They were talking and gesticulating, and it would be interesting could we know what they said to one another. When the Sarah Constant, which was leading, and a hundred yards in advance of the smaller boats, came opposite this group, two of the warriors were seen to fit arrows to their bowstrings, aim carefully, and let them fly. The feathered missiles could be easily traced as they curved upward in a beautiful parabola, and then darted, head downward, into the clear current, not having traversed half the distance between the land and the ship. The men crowding the decks could well afford to smile at such efforts. Captain Newport suggested that it would be a good thing to fire a volley into the party, as they had done some days before near the mouth of the river when greeted by a shower of arrows.

"No; we should cultivate their good will; we shall have need of their friendship, and must not use our firearms so long as our lives can be saved without doing so."

This remark, in crisp, decisive tones, was made by a man standing at the prow, with a spy-glass in his hand, which he turned now and then towards the different groups. He was of sturdy build, dressed in the civilian dress of the well-to-do citizen of those times, with a full, sandy beard and a huge military mustache. His face was deeply tanned, he wore a sword at his side, and his countenance showed resolution and firmness. He was not yet thirty years of age, and no one could look at his figure without seeing he possessed unusual strength and hardihood. It was plain that mentally and physically he was above the officers and crew about him.

This man was one of the most remarkable persons connected with the early history of the United States, and the foremost individual in the colonial period of the chief State. He was Captain John Smith, whose great services won him the name of the "Father of Virginia," and there can be no question that he deserved the honor. That he was a great boaster cannot be denied. Some of the stories he told of his adventures in France, Egypt, Hungary, Turkey, and other countries were true only in his imagination, recent researches having proved this to be the fact. None the less, he was one of the bravest of men, unselfish, enterprising, frank, and far-seeing; and it may as well be said at this point, that the first English colony in America would have perished from the earth but for the wisdom, energy, and self-sacrificing labors of this famous native of Lincolnshire.

The Indians who had launched the useless arrows must have done so as an indication of their feelings towards the white men who had dared to invade their country. Now and then several of the warriors, bolder than their companions, skirted the shore in their canoes, keeping abreast of the vessels, and occasionally venturing for a little way towards them; but they hurriedly withdrew again, as if they had heard something of the terrible weapons which spouted fire and killed without anyone understanding how, since no eye could ever detect the fatal missile. The Indians in their boats, as a rule, kept close to land, so as to be ready to take to flight the instant it became necessary. The result more than once was amusing.

A canoe containing four warriors, after several timid ventures, headed out in the river, as if they intended to board the strange craft. They paddled slower and slower, until when twenty rods or so from land their courage oozed away, and they dared advance no farther. They paused with their long ashen paddles still, ready to dip them into the current at the first sign of danger.

Without any command, the man at the helm pushed the rudder around, so that the bow of the largest ship slowly swung about, and it headed towards the canoe. The moment the occupants of the latter saw the fearful thing bearing down upon them they bent to their work with desperate energy, the craft skimming over the surface like a swallow. Captain Smith, smiling grimly, made a tunnel of one hand, and emitted a roar like that of an angry bull. The noise rolled over the smooth surface with terrifying power. Two of the Indians, in a wild panic, leaped overboard, and dived and swam in a frenzy of panic, while the others outsped them in the headlong haste of their paddling. Then as the panting fellows scrambled out on land, the Constant began laboriously swinging about again, and continued her course steadily up stream, most of the men on board who had witnessed the incident breaking into laughter, which had a strange sound at that time and in that place.