The Princess Pocahontas Part 23

[Ill.u.s.tration: Decorative]

CHAPTER XIX

JOHN ROLFE

To John Rolfe and to all who observed closely the Lady Rebecca--as she was now called--it seemed as if the little Indian maiden had put on a new womanly dignity since her baptism. And to John Rolfe in special she grew more lovely every day. He spent much time with her, strolling all over Jamestown island and even the mainland. In the woods she taught him as much as he taught her in the town: to observe the habits of the wild animals and to find his way through a trackless forest. Often they would go in a boat to catch fish or to dig for oysters in the Indian fashion.

At times Rolfe was very happy, and at other moments perplexed and cast down. It was joy for him to be in the company of one who made him feel how splendid a thing was life and how full of interest and beauty the woods, fields and river. Yet when the thought of marriage came to him he remembered the difficulties in the way. First, she was, though called a princess, only the child of a cruel savage chief and one accustomed to savage ways. Why should he, an English gentleman, choose her instead of a woman of his own race brought up in the manner of his people?

Then, even if he were willing, it was unlikely that Powhatan would consent to let his daughter wed a white man or the Governor on his side allow it. So he pondered; but no matter what the obstacles in his way, he came back again and again to his determination to win Pocahontas's love and to marry her. Now that she had become a Christian, there was one less barrier between them.

Rolfe believed that his feelings for Pocahontas had gone unnoticed by anyone, but Mistress Lettice, who had grown very fond of the Indian maiden confided to her especial care, was far from blind in anything that concerned her charge. Moreover, she had heard enough of the discussions which went on in the Council to know that such a marriage would be approved, since it would secure to the Colony the valuable friendship of Powhatan. But she was also aware of an obstacle which might prevent its coming to pa.s.s. This knowledge of hers she was determined to share.

One day she invited certain members of the Council to her house to drink a cask of sack her brother in London had sent her by the last ship. She had baked cake, also, and so excellent was its taste after the weariness of plain baker's bread, that many of her guests sighed at the remembrance of their womanless households; and those who had wives behind in England determined to send for them without further delay.

"But what I have to say, your Worships," she continued when she had ceased serving and had settled down in a highbacked chair to rest, "is that the Lady Rebecca will never wed another while she harboureth the thought of Captain Smith's return."

"What! did he teach her to love him?" exclaimed one who would gladly have listened to any ill of Smith.

"Nay, if ye should even question her thus she would not know how to reply. She thinketh and speaketh of him constantly and in her thoughts he standeth midway between a G.o.d and an elder brother, even as she doth call him. All the knowledge she acquireth is learned because she believeth he would wish it and will be glad to know that she is no longer the ignorant child of the woods as he first saw her. She wished even to delay her baptism because she expecteth him by every ship, and this I know full well--she will marry no man until she hath speech with Captain Smith or," here she paused significantly, "she believeth him to be dead."

She paused again to let her words sink in. Mistress Lettice wished no harm to Pocahontas. Indeed she loved her dearly and desired above all things to see her happy. And she believed that Rolfe as her husband would make her happy. Smith, if not indeed dead, was not likely to return to Jamestown, and therefore he might better be dead as far as Pocahontas was concerned, she thought. The worthy dame had picked her audience, which was composed chiefly of men who were well known to be enemies of Smith, who would not hold back from a slight untruth when they felt sure that it would help to secure safety from Indian attacks, which were proving so disastrous to their small community.

"We are mightily amazed at thy words. Mistress Lettice," said one of her guests at last; "and in truth it hath taken thy woman's eyes to see what was going on under our very noses and thy woman's tongue to show us the importance of Master Rolfe's courtship to the welfare of the Colony.

If so small a thing as what thou hast suggested is all that stands between us and the confirmation of this marriage, why, that is as easily disposed of as this flagon of thy brother's sack which I drink to thy health."

He put the emptied cup upon the table and the company rose to go, now that both business and pleasure were finished. They did not need much talk about what they intended to do.

As they were bidding Mistress Lettice farewell, with many compliments on her housewifery and her zeal for the settlement, Pocahontas appeared at the door. She had been, as Mistress Lettice well knew, away with Rolfe, showing him how her people planted tobacco, since he had become much interested in this weed--being the first in the Colony to grow it--and had expressed what seemed to his neighbors ridiculous hopes of future wealth to be derived from the sale of tobacco in England.

Pocahontas looked about her with eagerness, and while the men doffed their hats, she asked:

"What hath happened, sirs, that so many come to visit us at one time? It is like our councils when the old chiefs debate about the council fires."

No one was anxious to be the first to answer, but since some reply was necessary, the councilor who had testified to Mistress Lettice's insight said slowly and solemnly:

"We have come. Princess, to condole with thee at the death of thy friend, Captain John Smith."

"Dead!" cried Pocahontas. "He is dead?"

And the men, who wished not to burden their consciences with a spoken lie, all nodded a.s.sent. They thought to see the girl burst into tears or run away, as they had more than once seen her do when she was displeased; but instead she stood still, her face as motionless as a statue's. They were glad to slip away with muttered words of sympathy.

Nor when they were gone did Mistress Lettice's curious and affectionate eyes witness any sign of sorrow.

"I own myself wrong," she said that night to her husband; "she careth naught for the Captain. I wept all day last Michaelmas when my old dog died."

But Mistress Lettice did not hear the door unlatched that night, nor the moccasined feet of Pocahontas as they sped through the street down to a quiet spot on the river bank whither she often went. The maiden's heart was so full that under a roof she felt it would burst. And until dawn she stood on the sh.o.r.e, her face turned eastward towards the sea across which he had sailed away, bewailing her "Brother" in the manner of her people, now calling to Okee to guide him to the happy hunting grounds, and now praying G.o.d to bear his soul to the Christian heaven.

John Rolfe found nothing amiss with Pocahontas when he saw her next day, nor did any of the conspirators tell him of the false news that they had communicated to Lady Rebecca or their interest in his wooing.

And his wooing was very gentle and wonderful to Pocahontas. No Indian lover, she knew, ever won his squaw in this way. She listened to his words with amazement when he told her that he wanted her to be his wife, to make a home for him in this new land. When she gave him her word she felt much as if she were the very heroine of one of the tales she had listened to so often about the lodge fire, a deer perhaps that was to be magically transformed into human shape, or a bird on whom the spirits had bestowed speech--so immeasurably superior did the English still appear to her.

It was some weeks later that Sir Thomas Dale, grown impatient for a settlement of their differences with Powhatan, decided to go to Werowocomoco and take Pocahontas with him to act as peacemaker. With them, on Argall's ship, went John Rolfe and Master Sparkes and one hundred and fifty men.

When they tried to land at a village near Werowocomoco the Indians were very arrogant and opposed their pa.s.sage. In return the English fired upon them and when the terrified savages ran into the forest to escape the white men's weapons, the victors burned all the lodges of the town and wantonly spoiled the corn stacked up in a storehouse.

Pocahontas, who was sorrowful at the enmity between those she loved, besought Sir Thomas:

"Let me go among my people. They will harken to me and I will hasten to my father, and when he beholdeth me once more he will deny me nothing.

And it is a long time since I have looked upon his face," she pleaded.

But Sir Thomas refused. He was not minded to lose this valuable hostage; even though Pocahontas might be eager to return, he was sure that the old chieftain would never let her leave him.

"Prithee, then," she suggested sadly, "send messengers in my name, saying that ye will abstain from further fighting for a night and day.

If the messengers bear this feather of mine," here she took a white eagle's feather from her headband, "they may pa.s.s in safety where they will." As they were leaving she charged them: "And beg of my father to send my brothers to see me, since I may not go to them."

Now that she was so near home again she was homesick for the sight of some member of her family that she had not seen for many moons. Her father would not come, she felt sure, because he would not wish to treat with the white men in person. She waited anxiously, her eyes and ears strained for the sound of the messengers returning.

An hour or so later she beheld in the distance two tall figures approaching, and she sprang ash.o.r.e from the boat, crying:

"Nautauquas! Catanaugh!" as her two brothers hurried to meet her.

"Is it indeed our little Matoaka?" asked Nautauquas, "and unharmed and well?"

He looked at her critically, as if seeking to discover some great change in her.

"We feared we knew not what evil medicine they might have used against thee, little Snow Feather. How have they dealt with thee in thy captivity?"

"But fear no longer," cried Catanaugh, whose glance was fixed upon the canoe of the palefaces; "we shall rescue thee now if we have to kill every one of them yonder to get thee free."

"Nay, my brothers," said Pocahontas, laying her hand gently on his sinewy arm, "they are my friends, and they have treated me well. Look!

am I wasted with starvation or broken with torture? Harm them not. I am come to plead with our father to make peace with them. It is as if yon tree should plead with the sky and the earth not to quarrel, since both are dear to it. The English are a great nation. Let us be friends with them."

"Have they bewitched thee, Matoaka?" asked Catanaugh sternly. "Hast thou forgot thy father's lodge now that thou hast dwelt among these strangers?"

"Nay, Brother, but...."

Nautauquas was quick to notice Pocahontas's confusion and the blush that stole over her soft dark cheek.

"I think," he said, smiling at her, "that our little Sister hath a story to tell us. Let us sit here beneath the trees, as we so often sat when we were wearied hunting, and listen to her words."

It was not easy at first for Pocahontas to explain how it had come about. But as she sat there on the warm brown pine needles, snuggled closely against Nautauquas's shoulder, she found courage to tell of the strong, fine Englishman who had taught her so much, and how one day he had asked her to become his squaw after the manner of the white people.

She told them also how Sir Thomas Dale, the Governor, had willingly given his consent.