The Thrilling Adventure Of Captain John Smith
For those who love stories of the Indians, and the strange and perilous
adventures of white men in dealing with the forest tribes, we cannot do
better than give a remarkable anecdote of life in the Virginia woodlands
three centuries ago.
On a day near the opening of the winter of 1608 a small boat, in which
were several men, might have been seen going up the James River under
the shadow of the high trees
They came at length to a point where a smaller stream flowed into the
James, wide at its mouth but soon growing narrow. Into this the boat was
turned and rowed briskly onward, under the direction of the leader of
the expedition. They were soon in the heart of the wildwood, whose dense
forest growth clustered thickly on either bank of the stream, which ran
in a narrow silver thread through the green wilderness. The stream they
pursued is that now known as the Chickahominy River, so called from an
Indian tribe of that name, the most daring and warlike of all the
savages of the region.
As they went on the stream grew narrower still, and in time became so
shallow that the boat could go no farther. As they sat there in doubt,
debating what had better be done, the bushes by the waterside were
thrust aside and dusky faces looked out upon them through the leaves.
The leader of the whites beckoned to them and two men stepped out of the
bushy thicket, making signs of great friendliness. They pointed to the
large boat, and indicated by gestures that they had smaller craft near
at hand and would lend one to the whites if they wished to go farther
up. They would go along with them and show them the way.
The leader of the party of whites was named John Smith. This is a very
common name, but he was the one John Smith who has made the name famous
in history. He had met many Indians before and found most of them
friendly, but he had never seen any of the Chickahominies and did not
know that they were enemies to the whites. So he accepted the offer of
the Indians. The boat was taken back down the stream to a sort of wide
bay where he thought it would be safe. Here the Indians brought him one
of their light but strong canoes. Smith wanted to explore the stream
higher up, and, thinking that he could trust these very friendly looking
red men, he got into the canoe, bidding two of his men to come with him.
To the others he said,--
"Do not leave your boat on any account. These fellows seem all right,
but they are never to be trusted too far. There may be more of them in
the woods, so be wide awake and keep your wits about you."
The two Indians now got into the canoe with Smith and his men and began
to paddle it up the stream, keeping on until they were miles from the
starting-point. Undergrowth rose thickly on the banks and vines hung
down in green masses from the trees, so that the boat they had left was
quickly lost to sight. Soon after that the men in the large boat did a
very foolish thing. Heedless of the orders of their leader, they left
the boat and strolled into the woods. They had not gone far before a
party of savages came rushing at them with wild cries, and followed them
fiercely as they turned and ran back to their boat. One of them was
caught by the savages, and as the fugitives sprang into their boat they
were horrified to see the hapless fellow killed by his captors. This
lesson taught them not to leave the boat again.
Ignorant of all this, Smith went on, the boat being paddled here under a
low canopy of vines, there through open spaces, until far up the stream.
At length, as passage grew more difficult, he bade his guides to stop,
and stepped ashore. Taking one of the Indians with him, he set out,
carbine on shoulder, saying that he would provide food for the party. He
cautioned his two followers, as he had done those in the large boat, to
keep a sharp look-out and not let themselves be surprised.
But these men proved to be as foolish and reckless as the others. The
air was cool and they built a fire on the bank. Then, utterly heedless
of danger, they lay down beside it and soon were fast asleep. As they
lay slumbering the Indians, who had started up the stream after killing
their prisoner at the boat, came upon them in this helpless state. They
at once killed the foolish pair, and then started into the woods on the
trail of Smith.
Daring and full of resources as Captain John Smith was, he had taken a
dangerous risk in thus venturing alone into those forest depths, peopled
only by prowling and hostile savages. It proved to be the most desperate
crisis of his life, full of adventure as this life had been. As a
youthful soldier he had gone through great perils in the wars with the
Turks, and once had killed three Turkish warriors in single combat
between two armies, but never before had he been in such danger of death
as he was now, alone with a treacherous Indian while a dozen or more of
others, bent on his death, were trailing him through the woods.
He was first made aware of his danger when a flight of arrows came from
the low bushes near by. Then, with fierce war-whoops, the Indian braves
rushed upon him with brandished knives and tomahawks. But desperate as
was his situation, in the heart of the forest, far from help, surrounded
by foes who thirsted for his blood, Smith did not lose his courage or
his coolness. He fired his pistol at the Indians, two of them falling
wounded or dead. As they drew back in dismay, he seized his guide and
tied him to his left arm with his garter as a protection from their
arrows, and then started through the woods in the direction of the
canoe. Walking backward, with his face to his pursuers, and keeping
them off with his weapons, he had not taken many steps before he found
his feet sinking in the soft soil. He was in the edge of the great swamp
still known in that region, and before he was aware of the danger he
sank into it to his waist and his guide with him. The other Indians held
back in fear until he had thrown away his weapons, when they rushed upon
him, drew him out of the mud, and led him captive to the fire where his
two companions lay dead.
Smith's case now seemed truly desperate. He knew enough of the savages
to have very little hope of life. Yet he was not inclined to give up
while a shadowy chance remained. Taking from his pocket a small compass,
which he carried to aid him in his forest journeys, he gave it to the
Indian chief, showing him how the needle always pointed to the north.
But while the chief was looking curiously at this magic toy, as it
seemed to him, the other Indians bound their captive to a tree, and bent
their bows to shoot him. Their deadly purpose was prevented by the
chief, who waved the compass in the air and bade them stop. For the time
the mystery of the compass seemed to have saved the captive's life.
Smith was now taken through the woods, the journey ending at an Indian
village called Orapakes. Here the dusky women and children took the
captive in hand, dancing wildly around him, with fierce cries and
threatening gestures, while the warriors looked grimly on. Yet Smith
bore their insults and threats with impassive face and unflinching
attitude. At length Opechancanough, the chief, pleased to find that he
had a brave man for captive, bade them cease, and food was brought forth
for Smith and his captors.
While they were in this village two interesting examples of the
simplicity of Indian thought took place. Smith wrote a message to
Jamestown, the settlement of the whites, sending it by one of the
Indians, and receiving an answer. On his reading this and speaking of
what he had learned from it, the Indians looked on it as the work of
enchantment. They could not comprehend how "paper could talk." Another
thing was the following: They showed him a bag of gunpowder which they
had somehow obtained, saying that they were going to sow it in the
ground the next spring and gather a crop of this useful substance. After
spending some days in this and other villages, the captive was taken
into the woods, his captors making him understand that they were going
on a long journey.
Whither he was being taken or what was to be his fate Smith was not
aware. The language of gestures, which was his only way of conversing
with the savages, soon reached its limit, and he was quite ignorant of
what they proposed to do with him, though his heart must have sunk as
they went on day after day, northward through the forest. On they walked
in single file, Smith unbound and seemingly free in their midst, but
with a watchful Indian guard close beside him, ready to shoot him if he
made any effort to escape. Village after village was passed, in each of
which the women and children danced and shrieked around him as at
Orapakes. It was evident they knew the value of their prisoner, and
recognized that they had in their hands the great chief of the Pale
Faces.
In fact, the Chickahominy chief felt that his captive was of too much
importance to be dealt with hastily, and was taking him to the village
of the great chief Powhatan, who ruled like an emperor over a powerful
confederation of tribes. In summer his residence was near the Falls of
the James River, but he was in the habit of spending the winter on the
banks of York River, his purpose being to enjoy the fish and oysters of
the neighboring Chesapeake. Wesowocomoca was the name of this winter
residence, and here the captive was at length brought, after the long
woodland journey.
Captain Smith had met the old Indian emperor before, at his summer home
on the James River, near where the city of Richmond now stands. But that
was as a freeman, with his guard around him and his hands unbound. Now
he was brought before him as a captive, subject to his royal will or
caprice.
He found the famous lord of the tribes in his large wigwam, with his
wives around him, and his vigilant guard of warriors grouped on the
greensward outside, where the Indian lodges stretched in a considerable
village along the stream. Powhatan wore a large robe made of raccoon
skins. A rich plume of feathers ornamented his head and a string of
beads depended from his neck. At his head and feet sat two young Indian
girls, his favorite wives, wearing richly adorned dresses of fur, with
plumes in their hair and necklaces of pearls. Other women were in the
room, and a number of the leading warriors who sat around gave the
fierce war-cry of the tribe as the captive was brought in.
The old chieftain looked with keen eyes on his famous prisoner, of whose
capture he had been advised by runners sent before. There was a look of
triumph and malignity in his eyes, but Captain Smith stood before him
unmoved. He had been through too many dangers to be easily dismayed, and
near death's door too often to yield to despair. Powhatan gave an order
to a young Indian woman, who brought him a wooden basin of water that he
might wash his hands. Then she presented him a bunch of feathers to
serve as a towel. This done, meat and corn-bread were placed before him.
As he ate Powhatan talked with his warriors, consulting with them, the
captive feared, upon his fate. But he finished his meal with little loss
of appetite, trusting to the Providence which had saved him more than
once before to come to his aid again.
As he ate, his vigilant eyes looked heedfully around the room. Many who
were there gazed on him with interest, and one of them, a young Indian
girl of twelve or thirteen years of age, with pity and concern. It was
evident that she was of high rank in the tribe, for she was richly
dressed and wore in her hair a plume of feathers like that of Powhatan,
and on her feet moccasins embroidered like his. There was a troubled and
compassionate look in her eyes, as she gazed on the captive white man, a
look which he may perhaps have seen and taken comfort from in his hour
of dread.
No such feeling as this seemed to rest in the heart of the old chief and
his warriors. Their conference quickly ended, and, though its words were
strange to him, the captive could read his fate in their dark and
frowning faces. They had grown to hate the whites, and now that their
leader was a captive before them, they decided to put him to death.
There was no loss of time in preparation for the execution of the fatal
decree. At an order from Powhatan the captive was seized and securely
bound, then he was laid on the floor of the hut, with his head on a
large stone brought in from outside. Beside him stood a stalwart savage
grasping a huge war-club. A word, a signal from Powhatan, was alone
needed and the victim's brains would have been dashed out.
At this critical moment Smith's good angel watched over him. A low cry
of pity was heard, and the young girl who had watched him with such
concern sprang forward and clasped her arms around the poor prisoner,
looking up at the Indian emperor with beseeching eyes. It was
Pocahontas, his favorite daughter. Her looks touched the old man's
heart, and he bade the executioner to stand back, and gave orders that
the captive should be released. Powhatan soon showed that he was in
earnest in his act of mercy. He treated the prisoner in a friendly
fashion, and two days later set him free to return to Jamestown.
All that he asked in return was that the whites should send him two of
their great guns and a grindstone. Smith readily consented, no doubt
with a secret sense of amusement, and set out for the settlement, led by
Indian guides. Rawhunt, a favorite servant of Powhatan, was one of the
guides, and on reaching Jamestown Smith showed him two cannon and a
grindstone, and bade him carry them home to his master. Rawhunt tried,
but when he found that he could not stir one of the weighty presents
from the ground, he was quite content to take back less bulky presents
in their place.
So runs the story of Captain Smith's remarkable adventure. No doubt it
is well to say here that there are writers who doubt the whole story of
Pocahontas and her deed of mercy, simply because Captain Smith did not
speak of it in his first book. But there is no very good reason to doubt
it, and we know that things like this happened in other cases. Thus, in
the story of De Soto we have told how Juan Ortiz, the Spanish captive,
was saved from being burned alive by an Indian maiden in much the same
way.
Pocahontas after that was always a friend of the English, and often
visited them in Jamestown. Once she stole away through the woods and
told her English friends that Powhatan and his warriors were going to
attack them. Then she stole back again. When the Indians came they found
the English ready, and concluded to defer their attack. Later, after she
had grown up, she was taken prisoner and held in Jamestown as a hostage
to make her father quit threatening the English. While there a young
planter named John Rolfe fell deeply in love with her, and she loved him
warmly in return.
In the end Pocahontas became a Christian and was baptized at Jamestown
under the name of Rebecca. Then she and John Rolfe were married and went
to live in England, where she was known as the "Lady Rebecca" and
treated as if she were indeed a princess. She met John Smith once more,
and was full of joy at sight of her "father," as she called him. But
when he told her that she must not call him that, and spoke to her very
respectfully as Lady Rebecca, she covered her face with her hands and
began to weep. She had always called him father, she said, and he had
called her child, and she meant to do so still. They had told her he was
dead, and she was very glad to learn that this was false, for she loved
him as a father and would always do so.
That was her last meeting with Captain Smith. In less than a year
afterward she was taken sick and died, just as she was about to return
to her beloved Virginia.
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The year 1000 A.D. was one of strange history. Its advent threw the people of Europe into a state of mortal terror. Ten centuries had passed since the birth of Christ. The world was about to come to an end. Such was the general belief. How it was... Vladimir The Great
Vladimir, Grand Prince of Russia before and after the year 1000, won the name not only of Vladimir the Great but of St. Vladimir, though he was as great a reprobate as he was a soldier and monarch, and as unregenerate a sinner as ever sat on a thr... Voltaire's Last Visit To Paris
Never had excitable Paris been more excited. Only one man was talked of, only one subject thought of; there was no longer interest in rumors of war, in political quarrels, in the doings at the king's court; all admiration and all sympathy were turne... Walker The Filibuster And The Invasion Of Nicaragua
On the 15th of October, 1853, a small and daring band of reckless adventurers sailed from San Francisco, on an enterprise seemingly madder and wilder than that which Cortez had undertaken more than three centuries before. The purpose of this handf... Wallace The Hero Of Scotland
On a summer's day, many centuries ago, a young gentleman of Scotland was fishing in the river Irvine, near Ayr, attended by a boy who carried his fishing-basket. The young man was handsome of face, tall of figure, and strongly built, while his ski... Wat Tyler And The Men Of Kent
In that year of woe and dread, 1348, the Black Death fell upon England. Never before had so frightful a calamity been known; never since has it been equalled. Men died by millions. All Europe had been swept by the plague, as by a besom of destruct... William Tell And The Swiss Patriots
"In the year of our Lord 1307," writes an ancient chronicler, "there dwelt a pious countryman in Unterwald beyond the Kernwald, whose name was Henry of Melchthal, a wise, prudent, honest man, well to do and in good esteem among his country-folk, m... Wittekind The Saxon Patriot
As Germany, in its wars with the Romans, found its hero in the great Arminius, or Hermann; and as England, in its contest with the Normans, found a heroic defender in the valiant Hereward; so Saxony, in its struggle with Charlemagne, gave origin t... Xerxes And His Army
The defeat of the Persian army at Marathon redoubled the wrath of King Darius against the Athenians. He resolved in his autocratic mind to sweep that pestilent city and all whom it contained from the face of the earth. And he perhaps would have do... Yamato-dake A Hero Of Romance
We have now to deal with the principal hero of Japanese legend, Yamato-Dake, the conqueror. His story is full of myth and fable, but there is history in it, too, and it is well worth the telling. Every ancient nation has its legendary hero, who perf... Zenobia And Longinus
Among the most famous of the women of ancient days must be named Zenobia, the celebrated queen of Palmyra and the East, and who claimed to be descended from the kings whom the conquests of Alexander left over Egypt, the Ptolemies, among whose desc... Ziska The Blind Warrior
Sigismund, Emperor of Germany, had sworn to put an end to the Hussite rebellion in Bohemia, and to punish the rebels in a way that would make all future rebels tremble. But Sigismund was pursuing the old policy of cooking the hare before it was ca...