The Settlers: A Tale of Virginia

by William Henry Giles Kingston

The Indians, confiding in their numbers, seemed to consider that no attack would be made on them, but Rolfe, after the experience he had gained of the treachery of the natives, deemed it prudent to place sentries round his part of the camp. He advised Canochet to do the same. “We are not so careless as you suppose,” answered the chief; “we have men on the watch, but we deem it unwise to allow them to stand up so that they may afford a mark to the enemy. We conceal our watchmen from the foe approaching the camp, so that he never knows when he may be discovered; we have men on guard outside your sentries, so that if it pleases you, they may lie down and rest.”

After hearing this, Rolfe and the other leaders slept far more soundly than they otherwise would have done. The night passed away without interruption, and the next morning they proceeded on their way. Vaughan anxiously inquired of Canochet when he expected the return of his people. He had directed them, he said, merely to follow the trail to ascertain the direction the enemy had taken, and to gain as much other information as they could pick up. It was not, however, till late the next day that the party overtook the main body of the Monacans. They had discovered a trail which led towards the north, and that two white men were with the party, they were from the first certain. That this was the case was confirmed by a slip of paper which had been found fastened to a tree by a thorn. It contained but a few words, signed by Gilbert; Vaughan eagerly took it. “We are both alive, but our captors glance at us unpleasantly. We will try to escape; follow if you can, and help us.”

Vaughan explained the meaning of the words to Canochet. “Wonderful!” he exclaimed; “can so small a piece of white material with a few faint strokes on it say so much?”

He promised to follow the Indians, as Gilbert had desired; Vaughan wished to set out at once with him, but he recommended that he should first communicate with Powhattan, and get his assistance. Vaughan, though still very anxious, was somewhat relieved, and agreed to follow the chief’s advice.

Towards the evening, as they were proceeding along the banks of a broad stream which fell in a succession of cascades over its rocky bed, Canochet informed them that they were approaching the abode of the great chief. He had sent on before, as in duty bound, to announce their coming. Rolfe and Vaughan, accompanied by Canochet, were marching ahead of their party, the English following them, and the Indians at a little distance behind; they had just turned an angle of the river, beneath the shade of some lofty trees which stretched their branches far over the water,

when they saw standing before them a man of tall stature and dignified mien, clothed in rich skins handsomely ornamented, a plate of gold hanging on his breast, and an ornament of the same precious metal on his head. By his side was a young girl who could scarcely, from her appearance have seen seventeen summers. The pure blood which coursed through her veins and mantled on her cheeks gave a peculiarly rich hue to her skin, while her features were of exquisite form; her eyes large, and of a lustrous blackness. On her head she wore a circlet of feathers; her raven locks, parted at her brow, hung down in long plaits behind her slender waist. Altogether, Rolfe thought he had never seen so beautiful a creature. Though Vaughan could not fail to admire her, the blue eyes and fair face of Mistress Cicely were more to his taste. Fortunately for Rolfe, he had no difficult diplomatic duty to perform, or he might perchance have been tempted to yield too easily, won by the bewitching graces of the lovely savage.

The chief received the strangers with dignity as they advanced towards him. He had heard of their coming, he said, and gave them welcome. His wish was to be on friendly terms with them, and the people of their nation, one of whom, a great chief he seemed and full of wisdom, was even now his guest. Rolfe, who already spoke the native tongue with considerable fluency, replied, in suitable language, that he was grateful to the chief for the words he had let fall; that his guest was indeed a man of renown—his more than father and friend—and that it was with the object of visiting him, as well as to pay his respects to the mighty Powhattan, that he and his followers had made the journey into his country. The English had come, he added, with no hostile intentions: the land was large enough for the natives and themselves; and their desire was to live on friendly terms with all around them. He invited Powhattan to come to the town they had built and to judge for himself.

The Indian seemed well pleased with this address. “And now,” he said, “come with me to my home; such entertainment as I can give is prepared, and my wish is that when you go hence you may say that Powhattan has treated you in princelike fashion.”

Rolfe now made further inquiries about Captain Smith. The chief replied that he was in safe keeping, though he acknowledged that he had not hitherto thought fit to allow him to go abroad.