The Princess Pocahontas Part 20

Captain Argall answered:

"We have no word from him. Perchance he hath succ.u.mbed of his wound;"

and then, because he was jealous of Smith's fame among the savages, he added, "England hath so many great braves that we waste little thought on those that are gone. Jamestown hath all but forgot him already."

"There is one amongst us who forgets him not," j.a.pezaws pointed to the valley behind him, "one there is who hath him and his deeds ever on the tongue."

"Who may that be?" asked the Englishman, wondering if the Indian village held captive some countryman of his own long since thought dead.

"It is Pocahontas, his friend, who looks eagerly every moon for his return. She abideth gladly amongst us, for she groweth restless as a young brave, and Werowocomoco hems her in."

Even while j.a.pezaws was speaking a thought flashed through Argall's brain; and while the slaves at j.a.pezaws's command poured forth measure after measure of corn and dried meat, the Englishman was adding to his first vague idea, until when the great load of yellow grain lay heaped before him, his plan was fully laid.

"I wish, j.a.pezaws," he began, as if the idea had just struck him, "that Powhatan, her father, had as great a love for Jamestown as his daughter.

He will not even sell to us provisions now, though his storehouse is full to o'erflowing. If we could but make him see that, his gains would be greater than ours. 'Tis a matter of but a few more harvests before we have food and to spare, but where shall he find such copper kettles, such mirrors, such knives of bright steel as we would pay him in exchange for that he hath no need of?"

The old chief's eyes glistened with covetousness.

"I want some s.h.i.+ning knives; I want to see a vessel that will not break when my squaws let it fall on a rock. I want some of the marvels ye keep in your lodges."

Argall smiled; the fly had caught the fish for which he angled.

"As soon as a man may hurry to Jamestown and back they shall be thine if--thou wilt do what I ask of thee."

"And what is thy will?" Suspicion had now awakened in the Indian.

"Hearken!" continued Argall. "Thou knowest that Powhatan hath stolen from us sundry arms and keeps in captivity some of our men. If he will make peace with us we need not take our war party through the forests to Werowocomoco, and the lives of many Indians will be spared."

Here j.a.pezaws grunted, but Argall did not appear to notice it.

"If we held a hostage of Powhatan, someone who was dear to him, we could force him to do as we would."

He paused and glanced at the Indian who, whatever he may have thought, betrayed nothing.

"If thou wilt entrust the Princess Pocahontas to us," continued Argall, "she shall be taken to Jamestown and there detained in all gentleness, in the house of a worthy lady, until Powhatan agreeth to our terms and she will be conveyed in safety to her father. And for thee, for thy help in this matter, such presents shall be sent thee as thou hast never seen, such as no one, not even Powhatan, hath yet received."

j.a.pezaws was silent a little. The maiden was his guest, and his people had always upheld the sacred duties of hospitality. But he knew that no harm would befall her. The friends.h.i.+p of the English for her was known to all his tribe and the great affection of her father to this, his favorite daughter. In a day or two she would be ransomed by Powhatan, and for his part in the matter, he, j.a.pezaws, would gain what he so greatly longed to possess. He wasted neither time nor words:

"Meet me here at sunset, and I will bring her to thee."

Claw-of-the-Eagle had not thought to stir away from Wansutis's lodge for many days to come. Food in plenty was stored there and he had need to busy himself with the making of a new bow and arrows. But Wansutis, letting fall the stone with which she was grinding maize, looked up suddenly as if she heard distant voices. The youth, however, heard nothing. Then she said:

"Son, if in truth thy mind is set upon a certain maiden for thy squaw, go seek her at once in the village of the Patowomekes. She hath been there over long."

Claw-of-the-Eagle did not ask for any explanation of his mother's words.

He had learned that she seemed to possess some strange knowledge he could not fathom, but which he respected. Therefore, without any discussion, with only a word of farewell, he took his bow and quiver and his wooing pipe and set forth.

As he approached the village of j.a.pezaws at the end of several days'

journey, he said to himself:

"Before three days are past I shall return this way with my squaw. No longer will I wait for her to feign deafness to my piping. She shall listen to it and follow me to my lodge."

Knowing that he was among a friendly allied tribe, Claw-of-the-Eagle strode along as openly and as carelessly as he would have done at Werowocomoco or Powhata. Yet suddenly, like a deer that scents a bear, he stood still, his nostrils quivering; then, slipping behind a tree, he notched an arrow to his bow.

"A white man," he thought, long before his eyes caught sight of him.

Concealed by the tree, he waited and watched pa.s.s the man he knew was the new English captain, and to his astonishment found that the women who accompanied him were Pocahontas and a squaw of the Patowomekes. It was the squaw of j.a.pezaws; and it was at his bidding that she was now acting.

"Because thou hast seen as often as thou wilt the lodges of the palefaces," Claw-of-the-Eagle heard her say to Pocahontas, "is it right for thee to marvel that I am eager to witness with mine own eyes such strange ways as are theirs and the marvels the white chief hath stored in the canoe?"

"I do not wonder," laughed Pocahontas; "and in truth I rejoice to go with thee, and with the few words of their tongue that I have not forgotten to ask for thee the questions thou wouldst put to him. I, too, have questions to ask him."

When they had pa.s.sed the young brave followed them, far off enough that Pocahontas's quick ear might not hear his step that would have been noiseless to the Englishman.

At the bank to which the pinnace was moored he sought cover back of a large boulder, his eyes never moving from the women before him. He watched them go on board, saw the English sailors rise to receive them, and heard the eager outcries of the squaw as she felt of their garments and went about the deck of the little craft, while Pocahontas explained as far as her own knowledge went, the meaning of anchor and sail, of cooking utensils and muskets. He saw Captain Argall open a small chest and hand out presents to the two women, j.a.pezaws's squaw uttering loud cries of delight as beads and gaudy handkerchiefs were placed in her hands.

Claw-of-the-Eagle waited to see what would happen next. After an hour's watching he beheld the two women approach the side of the pinnace nearest the sh.o.r.e, the squaw in front. She sprang to the bank and ran lightly into the forest. Pocahontas had her foot on the gunwale to follow her when Captain Argall took hold of her arm.

"Come with us to Jamestown, Princess," he said; "we will welcome you for a visit."

Pocahontas's anger flared up. Never in her life had she been restrained by force. She wasted no time nor strength in entreaty, but sought to wrench herself away from him. But the Englishman held her firmly but gently, and while she struggled the sailors shoved the boat out into the stream.

Claw-of-the-Eagle rose that he might take better aim and shot an arrow at the Englishman. It hit the astounded captain on his leathern doublet, but did no more than knock the wind out of him.

"Shoot into the trees there," he commanded, still holding on to Pocahontas.

One of the sailors started to aim into the thicket at an unseen enemy, when Claw-of-the-Eagle, realizing that the boat was rapidly swinging out of his range, ran out on to an exposed bluff and notched a second arrow.

Before it left the string, however, the bullet from the soldier's musket had hit him in the shoulder. As he fell Pocahontas uttered a cry of horror, for she had seen who her stricken defender was.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Decorative]

CHAPTER XVII

POCAHONTAS LOSES A FRIEND

It was the second night of Pocahontas's captivity. She had suffered no restraint further than that necessary to keep her from jumping overboard. Argall and the sailors treated her with all deference, both from policy and inclination. Yet she was very unhappy and lonely: she had always been so free to go and come that it was almost a physical pain to be imprisoned within the narrow limits of the pinnace. Several times she had tried to evade the vigilance of the sailors; but her cunning, which on sh.o.r.e would have shown her a way to escape, was useless on the unfamiliar boat. Her anger at j.a.pezaws and his squaws flamed up anew every time she dwelt on their treachery. She went over in her mind the punishment she would beg her father to inflict upon them.

"Wait!" she called out; and the sailors wondered what she was saying as she stood there looking over the stern in the direction of the Patowomeke village, her eyes flas.h.i.+ng, "wait until Nautauquas brings ye to my father to be tortured!"

Then before she had grown tired planning their fate, her thoughts flew to Claw-of-the-Eagle. Was he lying dead there in the forest? What a playmate and companion he had always been, she thought; how brave, how strong! Yet now he must be dead or surely he had managed to follow her.

By nightfall the boat was anch.o.r.ed in the centre of the stream, which here widened out into a small bay. Captain Argall, who had not known what to make of Claw-of-the-Eagle's attack, did not feel certain that j.a.pezaws had not played him false. He had therefore made all speed possible the first night and the following day. Now his wearied men needed rest and, as no sign of pursuit appeared, he had granted them leave to sleep. Only one sailor in the bow was left on watch, but he, too, drowsed, to wake up with a start, when finding all well, he dropped off to sleep again.