Eleven years passed and Nonowit was a grown Indian who knew the forest lands along the Piscataqua and the rocky turns of the coast. But in all this time he had not forgotten the two strange experiences of his boyhood: a sailing vessel, seen in the river, and later the meeting of white men face to face. Never did his eye run along the ocean horizon without thought of those white-winged sails.

One morning in May, 1614, Nonowit paddled miles from the shore and pulled his canoe upon the rocks of a small island, the largest of a group that could be seen from the coast. Leaving his bark in safety, he crossed to the opposite shore of the island, where he first laid sticks for a fire and then threw out his line for a fish. A full catch held his attention until the tide had risen to an unusual height. Suddenly he thought of his canoe. He hastened over the rocks to find it far afloat. There he was left alone on the island with only the fish of the ocean for food and the sky to cover his head. That day and the next he watched for a stray canoe. On the morning of the third day, as he scanned the ocean to the East, he discerned a distant white speck.

Slowly it shaped itself, and he realized that once again he was watching the approach of a white man's vessel. It seemed to be heading for his very island. Nonowit watched cautiously, ready to find safety in the rocky caves in case these proved unfriendly people.

The vessel dropped anchor and a small boat brought eight men ashore. The leader was Capt. John Smith, who had sailed from England to learn what he could of the New World, and whether it was a desirable place for colonists. As this group of small islands attracted him, he had landed to see what could be found.

Nonowit, from his hiding place, watched the astonishment of the white men when they came upon the burning coals of his fire. Then his turn of surprise came, for one face of that group was familiar to him. The features of Jacques had been stamped upon his boyhood mind, never to be erased. He now recognized the French boy who, since that first trip across the ocean, had learned his father's art of cooking and had hired out as steward to this English captain.

Springing from his cave, Nonowit appeared before the wondering men, who drew back, fearing him one of a band of hidden Indians. Suddenly, Jacques caught a glimpse of the knife, cut with his own mark, thrust into the Indian's belt. It was the very dirk he had won by his well-danced hornpipe on his voyage with M. Champlain.

After an exchange of friendly greetings, the Indian led the English party about and visited with them the smaller islands of the group. The low green bushes and bold rocky shores surrounded by the sparkling ocean so pleased Captain Smith that he gave the group his own name, calling Smith's Isles what later have been known as the Isles of Shoals.

The seamen learned of Nonowit's lost canoe and offered to take him ashore. As they approached the mainland, the wooded coast with its lone mountain and later the safe harbor and rocky shores were most attractive to these Englishmen.

On through the Narrows they sailed, as did Martin Pring many years before. This time, Nonowit was aboard the vessel that his people watched from the bank by the fresh spring where they had made their encampment. It is near the spot where Portsmouth markets now stand. Perhaps the first marketing was done that day, for Captain Smith was ready to trade knives, beads, fish lines, and hooks for the furs the Indians offered. Jacques prepared stews and porridge for these new friends, and in turn the Indians feasted the sailors upon maize and bear meat.

After Nonowit had well described the coast lines to Captain Smith, he presented dried fish and deer meat for the journey, and to Jacques, for his own use, the skin of a bear. Although Nonowit was urged to sail with the party, he refused.

Captain Smith continued along the coast to the point now known as Cape Cod and then, returning, found others of his party whom he had left fishing at the mouth of the Penobscot River.

With salted fish and furs from Indian trading, Captain Smith returned to England, elated with the charm of the New Land. He published a map of the seacoast with a vivid description of the country and presented it to Prince Charles who named the region New England, and so, ever since, it has been called.