Rolfe having consented to this, Gilbert and Fenton set off. They quickly came to the conclusion that a better place for camping at night in an enemy’s country could not be found, as, with proper vigilance, they were not likely to be surprised; and, if attacked, could easily defend themselves against vastly superior numbers, especially if they had time to erect stockades at the more assailable points. The river, which flowed round three sides, was too deep to be forded; while rough rocks, a dozen or more feet in perpendicular height, formed the greater portion of the remaining side. They hurried back with this information, and, encountering Vaughan, who had come to meet them, persuaded him to induce Rolfe to act as he proposed, in opposition to the Indian’s suggestions. Pomaunkee could scarcely conceal his annoyance; he, however, being unable to offer any further reason for proceeding, was compelled to follow the commander. Preparations for camping were soon made: some brushwood at the foot of the knoll was cut down to supply fuel. Gilbert, whose suspicions of Pomaunkee were increased by the opposition he had offered to the selection of the place, suggested that some stout stakes should be cut, and fixed on the side of the hill where the slope, being less abrupt than in other places, might be more easily mounted.
While these arrangements were being made, Gilbert and Fenton, who had been, according to their intention, watching Pomaunkee, saw him descend the hill and go in the direction of the forest. In a short time they lost sight of him among the trees.
“We ought not to have allowed him to go,” observed Gilbert; “and even now I would advise Rolfe to send some men after him to bring him back, in case he may purpose to desert us altogether.”
“The sooner we do so, then, the better,” said Fenton; and together they went to Rolfe, who was at the time on the other side of the hill, and told him what they had observed.
“The Indian, I know, is faithful,” he answered; “and I cannot suppose that he has any intention of playing us false.”
Vaughan, however, agreed with Gilbert, and at length persuaded Rolfe to send Tarbox and Flowers, with two other men, to follow the Indian and to bring him back, should it appear that he was deserting them. Meantime, the fires were lighted, pots were put on to boil, huts formed with boughs were set up to serve as a shelter from the night air, and all other arrangements for the night encampment were made. It was nearly dark when Tarbox and the other men with him returned, stating that they had once caught sight of Pomaunkee in the distance, but before they could get up to him he had disappeared, and that after having searched in vain, they had judged it time to return.
“His disappearance without telling me of his intention, looks suspicious,” observed Rolfe, “and I thank you, Gilbert and Fenton, for the warning you gave me. He may intend treachery, or he may simply have grown weary of guiding us, and, Indian fashion, have gone off without thinking it necessary to tell us of his intention. In either case, we will strengthen the camp as far as time will allow.”
“For my part, I am glad to be rid of him,” observed Gilbert; “and, aided by our compass, we can find our way without his guidance.”
Supper was over; the watch was set, the officers were seated round their camp-fire, discussing how they should proceed on reaching Powhattan’s village on the morrow, when the sentry gave notice that an Indian was approaching from the side of the forest.
“After all, we have wronged Pomaunkee, and he is returning,” observed Rolfe.