The Captive Princess

Home > Other > The Captive Princess > Page 7
The Captive Princess Page 7

by Wendy Lawton


  Pocahontas looked at her brother. She could see that he did not laugh. “Our people could never move those guns or that grindstone, could they?”

  “No. And your friend knew that.” Nantaquaus’s voice wore a cold, angry tone that she rarely heard from her brother.

  “I think our father knew that as well.” Pocahontas thought for a minute. “Yes, he was expecting something like this. I saw it in his face.”

  Nantaquaus didn’t say anything at first, but eventually he nodded his head. “I believe you are right, little sister. In fact, I think our father will laugh when he hears this story.”

  John Smith had his people bring out baskets of beads, some tools, and beautiful pieces of copper. “Since your men are unable to carry the guns and the grindstone in their canoe, Nantaquaus, please take these gifts to your father as a token of my esteem.”

  Nantaquaus took the gifts without saying anything. He wrapped them in a hide and tucked the package into his canoe.

  “And, Princess, there are no words I can use to thank you for the gift of life. When you next return to Jamestown, I will have some gifts for you.”

  The next return. Pocahontas could hardly wait.

  Pocahontas heard someone calling her name outside her sleeping lodge. Nantaquaus. She threw off the furs and blankets and stepped outside. “The sun is still sleeping. What are you doing, waking me?”

  He pointed toward the river. The glow from the rising sun lit the sky. “Our father wants us to go to the tassantassuk village. We shall take food along as a gift.”

  Pocahontas remembered the gifts John Smith promised her. “Let me go down to the river to wash before I dress.”

  “You may bring Nokomias and Matachanna if you like.”

  Pocahontas thought about that. Part of her wanted to go alone with Nantaquaus. She liked that she had a special kinship with John Smith, but she knew the girls would love the adventure. Besides, the trip itself would be so much more fun if they all went.

  “You wake Matachanna and I’ll ask Alaqua if Nokomias can go.” He started off but turned to shout, “Meet us at my canoe.”

  When all was ready to go, they pushed off, headed downriver.

  “This reminds me of that trip when your canoe was new.” Nokomias couldn’t hide the excitement in her voice.

  “And we saw the sailing ships for the first time.” Matachanna sat directly behind Nantaquaus this time. Nokomias sat behind her and Pocahontas sat in the very back. “It was much warmer then,” she said, pulling the fur robe around her.

  Snow had fallen for two days and, though the sun shone today, she shivered with each gust of wind. The edges of the river were frozen with a covering of snow, making the river seem narrower. The canoe sliced through the water in silence. All sound seemed muffled by the snow. With the advent of winter, no birds chattered, the geese had flown away, and even the deer were rarely seen.

  Pocahontas spoke in a whisper. “Doesn’t it seem as if we are the only creatures moving through the land?” She pulled her fur mantle closer to her face.

  “Are you afraid to go to the tassantassuk village?” Nokomias asked.

  “No. John Smith is our brother. He will not let harm befall us,” Pocahontas said.

  Nantaquaus continued to pull the oars through the water. “Do you not think I can protect you, little Nokomias?”

  Matachanna laughed. “You can protect three girls against a whole village? I think I’ll count on our English brother’s friendship.”

  “That is the difference between a warrior and a girl,” Nantaquaus said. “You trust and we remain wary.”

  “Look.” Pocahontas pointed toward the bay. “One of the white bird ships has returned.” Moored next to the small ship —the one John Smith called the Discovery—was a larger one. “That’s not one of the ships we saw before, is it?”

  “No. This is a different one. It sits higher in the water.” Nantaquaus squinted as if to fix the other ship in his mind. “We’ve never seen this one.”

  Pocahontas began to wonder if the story John Smith told to the great Powhatan was true after all. Would he be leaving on this new ship?

  As they came to the island, they rowed right to the shore. They no longer had to hide the canoe and crouch among the grasses. Nantaquaus took off his moccasins. With a sharp intake of breath, he stepped into the water, crunching the ice shelf along the edge. He pulled his canoe up on the beach and helped the girls step out onto the sand.

  “That’s another difference between a warrior and a girl,” he said as he dried his feet with a bunch of turkey feathers before putting his moccasins back on.

  Pocahontas brushed an imaginary drop of water off her white leather moccasins with great exaggeration. “Some differences are good differences.”

  Matachanna and Nokomias laughed.

  “Their guards have seen us. Here comes a group out to meet us.” Nantaquaus reached for his bow, slung over his back.

  The group of Englishmen moved cautiously toward them. The three men and a boy all had guns at the ready.

  “Hold fire.” One of the men put up his hand. “It’s the princess. Someone run get Cap’n Smith.”

  They stood there—Powhatan and English—silently looking at one another, waiting for John Smith.

  He came hurrying out through the large gate, after opening it wide. Many other men stood at the opening. “Pocahontas, Nantaquaus, Matachanna, and …” he searched for her name as he walked toward them.

  “Nokomias,” Pocahontas supplied.

  “That’s right. And Nokomias. Welcome to Jamestown.” He reached them and put his hand over his heart. “Welcome.”

  “We have answered your invitation and come to see your town and meet your people,” Pocahontas replied with formality. She felt shy in front of an audience of Englishmen.

  “Come,” he said. “Come.”

  He put his hand on Pocahontas’s shoulder as they walked toward the group standing just inside the fort. “This is the princess,” he said in English. “It is she who saved my life.”

  He translated this into Powhatan for his guests, but Pocahontas had understood some of what he had spoken in English. She didn’t know why that pleased her so much.

  “These are two of her maidens and her brother Nantaquaus. Make them welcome.”

  He motioned to a tall platform on four legs. “Please come sit at my table.”

  So that was a table. He gestured toward smaller platforms. Pocahontas looked around the village and saw several people seated on these platforms.

  “Please. Have a seat on this chair.”

  Chair. Tables and chairs. Nantaquaus stood back with his arms crossed over his chest, but Nokomias and Matachanna perched themselves on chairs. Matachanna giggled. Pocahontas silently agreed it felt strange.

  “Let me get you something to drink,” John Smith said as he stood and went inside the square wooden lodge.

  He returned with four metal containers and set one in front of each girl. He handed the last to Nantaquaus. Pocahontas put her hands around it. It was shaped like a cylinder of a tree limb, but it was hollow and cold to the touch.

  “Cup,” he said. “Pewter cup.”

  Cup. Pewter cup.

  He went inside again and came back with something that looked a little like a metal water gourd, only with a handle.

  “Pewter?” Pocahontas asked.

  “Yes. Pewter pitcher.”

  Pitcher, pitcher.

  He poured a small amount of liquid into each cup. Standing off to the side, Pocahontas noticed one of the young boys watching them. He pressed his lips together and inhaled, while his tongue came out as if to catch an imaginary drop of liquid. He’s hungry. He wishes he had this small bit of liquid for himself.

  She put the cup to her lips and watched the boy’s tongue moisten his lips again. Could this mash be their only food? The liquid tasted strange to her—like spoiled grain. “Thank you, John Smith, but we are not used to this taste. May we have water instead?”

/>   She looked over at the boy, hoping John Smith would give the cup to him, but instead, her friend took the cups and carefully poured the liquid back into the pitcher, making sure not to spill a drop. He took another pitcher and filled the cups full of cold water.

  They all drank deeply.

  John Smith saw Nantaquaus looking toward the cannons. “Would you like to go over there and have a good look at them?”

  Nantaquaus nodded.

  “Perkins,” John Smith called to a man standing nearby, “will you take our friend over to the bulwarks and let him have a close-up look at the guns?”

  The man came and gestured to Nantaquaus to follow. Matachanna and Nokomias made eye contact with Pocahontas as if to ask if they could get off the chairs and follow.

  “Go along with him if you’d like,” Pocahontas said.

  The girls scooted off their seats and ran to catch up to the men.

  “Is it good to be back in your own village?” Pocahontas asked. She noticed that John Smith looked thinner than when he left Werowocomoco.

  He smiled. “There is much work to be done.”

  “We see that the ship came back.” She longed to ask hundreds of questions. What made her shy? “Will you all be leaving on the ship?”

  “No. This ship came to bring supplies.”

  “Good. Supplies. So you now have enough food?” She looked over at the dried stalks of what had been their garden inside the walls of their village. She had seen the field during growing season and it looked sparse and stunted then. Now she could tell that the harvest had been pitiful. It couldn’t have been more than a week’s ration for the men.

  “We should have. When the John and Francis docked—that’s the name of the ship—the first thing they did was unload food. It looked like we were saved starvation.” He stopped talking, as if he caught himself.

  “Do not fear that I will tell my father that you are in a weakened state. You are my brother. I will not tell.” She put her hand on his arm. “You know that all through the growing season we came and watched.” She leaned in closer and spoke softly. “From the tall grasses, nearly everything can be seen through breaches in the walls. We observed the troubles—people not working, men getting sick.” She lowered her voice. “We even knew about the men dying. You did not bring the bodies out because you feared to have us know that your numbers dwindled. We saw all that and still we did not tell.”

  “You are my friend, Pocahontas.” John Smith put his hand over his heart again.

  “What happened with the supplies brought by this new ship?”

  “The ship brought about sixty new colonists and it brought fresh supplies—enough to get us through the winter.”

  “This is good then?”

  “Seven days after it landed, one of the new settlers knocked over a lantern and started a fire. See.” He pointed toward the well where men were drawing water. She hadn’t noticed before. All that remained of some structures were bits of charred timber. “We lost many of our shelters, but those can be rebuilt.” He paused, looking at the devastation. “But we lost the storehouse with all the food.”

  Pocahontas understood how serious this was. “What will you do? You cannot grow more food in winter.”

  “I must trade for food.”

  Pocahontas remained silent.

  “Do you think I will have trouble trading for food?”

  “I do not know. Little rain has fallen on the land for the last two growing seasons. The grain in our storehouses is low, but we always share what we have. Who can enjoy a full belly if his neighbor starves?”

  “So what concerns you?”

  “There are so many different villages—different tribes. Some are friendly. Some are enemies. Some may seem friendly but they are not. How do you know where to go to trade?”

  “Are they not all part of your father’s empire?”

  “They are, but it is an alliance loosely held. They pay homage to my father but he does not tell them who their friends are or who their enemies are. Each tribe has its own weroance.” She shook her head. “It’s hard to explain.”

  “No. You’ve explained well.” He stood up. “Come. Enough of this serious talk. I don’t think I’ve heard you laugh one single time since you stepped foot in Jamestown. I’m going to start suspecting this is not my princess.”

  She hopped off the chair.

  As he showed her around the village, she saw many things she’d never seen before. She could see how useful many of them would be. Some, like their clothing, were strange. She couldn’t imagine anyone wearing all those things, especially in summer when it felt too hot for any amount of clothing.

  Her laughter bubbled to the surface when she saw a man rolling a barrel across the grounds. It looked so strange, but she had to admit the shape of the barrel made it easier to move heavy objects.

  “Princess, I would like you to meet Captain Newport.” John extended his hand to an older man.

  “Captain Newport, this is the daughter of the great Powhatan, Pocahontas.”

  “Good day,” she said in English. She turned to John Smith and spoke in her language. “This is your father?” She remembered him describing Captain Newport that way.

  “Not precisely. It’s hard to describe the relationship. He is honored like a father.”

  Two more men joined them. Pocahontas recognized them from her watching days. These were two of the men who never did any work. John Smith introduced them as Misters Ratcliff and Wingfield.

  “Come, Smith, did you not give this pretty girl some baubles?” the one called Rat-cliff said.

  Pocahontas could see her friend stiffen. Although she did not understand these English words, she felt dismissed by them.

  Matachanna and Nokomias came running up. “Nantaquaus says we need to leave since the days are so short. He does not wish to be on the river at night.” Matachanna sounded out of breath.

  When Nantaquaus joined them, John Smith introduced them all around.

  Rat-cliff left and came back with a basket filled with things. He handed a new hatchet to Nantaquaus. “This is from the King of England as a gift.”

  John Smith interpreted and continued to tell them what Rat-cliff said as he gave both girls beautiful strings of beads. When he came to Pocahontas, he gave her many strings of beads, a copper bracelet, and a pewter cup.

  After everyone thanked the English for the gifts, Nantaquaus nudged them toward the gate. Pocahontas kept fingering the cold metal of the cup as they said good-bye to all the men.

  As they walked toward the gate, John Smith motioned for them to wait. He ran back to his sleeping lodge and came back to walk with them down to the water.

  “Thank you for visiting our village,” he said. “And, Pocahontas, thank you for saving my life.” He reached inside his vest and pulled out three strings of glistening white beads. “I know you received many gifts today, but this is the gift I planned to give you.” He put them over her head.

  “Thank you, brother.” Pocahontas fingered the beads. “I will treasure them forever.”

  As they pushed off into the water, Pocahontas looked back and saw a too-thin John Smith watching as they paddled out of sight. She wondered if John Smith’s gift would last far longer than the man himself.

  Saving

  Jamestown

  Tell me what you saw,” Powhatan said to Nantaquaus and Pocahontas. Flanked by the two of them, he still sat on the edge of his dais. It was a rare moment when all his advisors were gone.

  “I spent time studying the cannons,” Nantaquaus said. “They are mighty guns and can do much damage, but they would not be useful to us.”

  Powhatan folded his hands and waited for his son to continue.

  “They take too much preparation to fire and then, you only get one massive shot.” He shook his head. “With the kinds of attack we face from our enemies—where we never see them coming until they are upon us—these would never work. And if we were to attack, how could we sneak up on them pulling a ca
nnon?”

  “You confirm what I have observed, my son. The guns that would benefit us would be the firesticks they carry.”

  “All this talk about guns and fighting. Aren’t we at peace, Father?” Pocahontas hated war talk.

  “We are only at peace because our enemies fear us and our friends know our strength.” Her father turned to her. “So what did you learn?”

  “I sat on a chair.” She stopped to describe what a chair looked like. “I had water at a table.” Again she used her hands and all her words to describe a table. “And I drank out of a pewter cup.” She took out the cup she had been given and put it in her father’s hands.

  He turned it over and plunked his finger against it. He rubbed his thumb over the embossed decoration. He signaled to Nantaquaus to hand him the bowl with water in it and he poured water into the cup. Putting his mouth on the edge of the cup, he drank all the water.

  “Is it not a beautiful thing, Father?”

  “Beautiful.”

  “I want you to have it. It is a cup worthy of a king—no, worthy of the Mamanatowic” Pocahontas smiled. How she loved having a gift of worth to give to her great father.

  “And how is your English brother?”

  Pocahontas sighed. “I fear they starve.”

  “How can they starve?” Her father dismissed her concern. “I had reports that a ship came. They unloaded enough food to last until planting season, even with the sixty new tassantassuk who arrived.”

  Nantaquaus smiled at Pocahontas.

  She shrugged. Why should she be surprised at her father? He always managed to know everything. Well, not everything. “Did your envoy report that seven days after the ship came, a fire burned up most of their lodges and their storehouse?”

  Now it was her father’s turn to be surprised. “A fire? Why did no one tell me?”

  “I believe John Smith wishes to keep their weaknesses hidden,” Nantaquaus said.

  “But if they have no food, they will die.” Powhatan sat silently. “Tomorrow, take Rawhunt and Pocahontas and pack as much food as you can fit into your canoe. Take it to my English son. Let him pay us in tools.”

  “Thank you, Father.” Pocahontas put her arms around his neck. “If you could have seen the boy who watched us sip what must have been the last of their rations—he had such hunger in his eyes, but he never said a word.”

 

‹ Prev