While he was napping in the afternoon a keg of gunpowder exploded and set him on fire. Distracted with agony he jumped into the water to cool the burns. Much of his flesh was torn from his body and thighs. A hundred miles stretched between him and Jamestown, and thousands more to London, but there only he could get proper doctoring. Fortunately a ship was just leaving Jamestown which could and would take him on. Percy was the only one who could be persuaded to take his place, for even his enemies did not want it at this dubious stage.
Smith claimed that the colony now had three ships and seven boats, and many desirable commodities. There were provisions for ten weeks for the four hundred and ninety people, besides twenty-four pieces of ordnances, three hundred muskets, firelocks, shot, powder and match and swords. One hundred soldiers could speak the Indian language. There were six mares, horses, five hundred swine, hams, chickens, goats and sheep. He had done his best, and it was no poor best. His friends agreed eloquently: "He made justice his first guide and experience his second, ever hating baseness, sloth, pride and indignity more than any dangers, that never allowed more for himself than for his soldiers with him, that upon no danger would send them where he would not lead them himself, that never see us want what he had or either could by any means get us, that would rather want than borrow, or starve than not pay, that loved action more than words, and hated falsehood and covetousness worse than death, whose adventures were our lives, and whose loss our deaths."
So Smith was out of sight, and for most out of mind. Such word of him as got to the Indians was that he was dead. Powhatan, who had feared and hated him when he was around, now defended him. "My daughter, you see how treacherous the white men are. The foolish palefaces have killed the best man whom they had."
Without Smith, the remaining whites fared worse with the Indians. Ratcliffe and others were slaughtered, and Archer died. The "Starving Time" which had set in during Smith's office was worse than at any period. An oatmeal thief had a bodkin thrust through his tongue. The most cruel man of all had chopped up his wife and salted the parts, consuming some, before he was caught and executed. Only sixty of five hundred people survived.
There was no way for them to know that the chief relief ship the Sea Venture had been tossed about at sea, and wrecked on the Bermuda shores, by a terrible storm. Shakespeare, on hearing of it, wrote his play the Tempest, moved by the drama of the storm, and the strange lull afterward on the balmy isles.
IV
THE Sea Venture which had left England with one hundred and fifty passengers on June 2, 1609, had not only Sir Thomas Gates aboard, but an ordinary Englishman named John Rolfe and his wife. The lull after the storm which wrecked the ship off the Bermuda Isles was such a relief that they named their baby born there "Bermuda" after the island. She was baptized by the Reverend Richard Buck, who was to stand by John Rolfe on many occasions in the future. The burial of the baby was the next of these. Their sojourn on the healthy islands was a blessing to most of the refugees, although they were supposed dead by the Jamestown colonists, few of whom were surviving themselves during their "Starving Time" that winter and early spring.