Smith goes on a foraging expedition and engages in a contest of wits with Powhatan—Doctor Russell and Captain Smith get into a tight place—And get out again—Powhatan plans to murder his adopted son—Pocahontas warns the Captain of the intended treachery—The feast and the disappointed waiters—How eight designing Indians afford goodly entertainment to three Englishmen—And how they are neatly laid by the heels by their intended victims—“The English sleep like the village dog, with one eye cocked”—How the ambushers were ambushed and the captors captured—“If there be one among you bold enough to essay a single combat, let him come out!”

With the approach of winter the colony of Jamestown found itself in hardly better condition than at the same time in the previous year. It is true that their health was now better but they had many more mouths to feed and rather less chance of obtaining provisions from the Indians. These, as we know, had been unfriendly for some months past, due to Newport’s reckless generosity towards them and particularly to his foolish gift of swords, which Smith refused to duplicate. The more experienced among the settlers had protested strongly against the crowning of Powhatan, fearing that the savage would interpret the ceremony as a measure of propitiation and a sign of dread on the part of the English. And this proved to be the case. It was soon evident that the great Werowance had risen mightily in self-esteem in consequence of the silly coronation and that his respect for the settlers had fallen in proportion. The neighboring bands, acting on his orders, refused to furnish corn on any terms, and messengers sent to Werowocomico returned empty handed, telling of having been treated with a high-handed contempt. After Scrivener and Percy had made futile expeditions, it became clear that, as usual, Smith must attend to the matter in person if the colony was to be saved from starvation.

Smith immediately began preparations for a visit to the capital of Powhatan, whose spies doubtless gave him early information of the fact, for, just at this time, an embassy arrived from the newly-crowned “emperor” demanding workmen to build him an English house to contain the gorgeous bedstead that his brother, the King of England, had sent to him. He also asked for fifty swords, as many muskets, a cock and hen, a large quantity of copper and a bushel of beads. This modest requisition he expected would be filled forthwith, and in return for his compliance he promised to give Captain Smith a shipload of corn, provided he came for it in person. Here was a very palpable trap and something like a veiled defiance. Smith was as little prone to shirk danger as he was to decline a challenge, and he returned answer that he should presently be at Werowocomico. In the meanwhile he was sending three Germans and two Englishmen to build the projected palace, but, for the rest of the request, he thought that he had better bring the things mentioned by the Chief himself, for he feared that the messengers might hurt themselves with the swords and muskets.

Leaving Scrivener in charge of the settlement, Smith, with forty-six volunteers, embarked in the pinnace and two barges. George Percy commanded one of the latter and Francis West, brother of Lord Delaware, the other. The journey by water was a tolerably long one for open boats, and they broke it by a stay of two or three days at Kecoughten, a village occupying the site of the present town of Hampton. The Chief received them with genuine friendliness and warned Smith that Powhatan contemplated treachery. Here the party “kept Christmas among the savages, where they were never more merry, nor fed on more plenty of good oysters, fish, flesh, wild fowl and good bread; nor never had better fires in England than the dry, smoky houses of Kecoughten.” The enthusiasm with which the chroniclers among the colonists expatiate upon such simple comforts as these when it happens to be their good fortune to experience them, gives us a very good idea of the miserable condition that generally prevailed at Jamestown.

When at length the party arrived at Werowocomico, they found the river frozen over to a distance of half a mile from shore. Smith overcame this obstruction by leaving his boats and wading to land with a squad of men. The entire absence of welcome was a sinister indication, but Smith, unabashed, took possession of a deserted wigwam on the bank and sent messengers to Powhatan for provisions. These were forthcoming, and the chieftain agreed to meet the English captain the next morning in a formal pow-wow.

Before noon the following day, Captain Smith and his handful of men went up to the town, putting a bold face on what they all believed to be a very bad matter. Once more the two chiefs met in the famous “king’s house.” Powhatan received Smith with the utmost coolness, and it was noticeable that he did not address him by his tribal name. When the matter of food supplies came up, he declared that he had so little to spare that he was loath to exchange it for copper which his people could not eat. As a special favor to the English and in consideration of their great need he would stretch a point to let them have thirty bushels in exchange for as many swords, but he was really not at all anxious to make the trade. Indeed, so short was the food supply at Werowocomico that he hoped that the English would speedily depart for he could ill afford to entertain so many hungry stomachs.

“As to that,” replied Smith, “we have come at your invitation, and will delay no longer than is necessary to effect our purpose, which is to secure, at a fair price, so much corn and venison as you can readily spare from the well-filled stores of Werowocomico.”

Each had intimated that he was well acquainted with the actual conditions at the headquarters of the other, but Smith was at a loss to determine whether Powhatan had merely guessed at the urgent needs of the colonists, or whether he was really informed of the state of things at Jamestown. As yet he had no suspicion of the truth, which was that the Dutchmen sent to build the Chief’s house had betrayed the colony. Tempted by the abundant food and comfortable lodgings at the capital of the Powhatans, they had secretly sold their allegiance to the Chief, intending to remain with the Indians and marry into their tribe.

Powhatan continued the negotiations in the same independent tone, declaring that he would exchange corn for swords and muskets and for nothing else. At length this persistent attitude provoked Smith to a decisive reply.

“Let me speak the Werowance plain as I would that he should speak to me. We will part with our swords and muskets no sooner than we will with our clothes. Why, indeed, should we do so, when by a use of these same we can readily get all the corn we want and still retain them? We came here as honest and well-meaning men to get provisions and get them we will, if not by fair means then by foul. If blood be shed in this matter, upon your head be it, for I am, and ever have been, willing, in good faith, to uphold the friendship which we plighted to one another.”

This language was too plain to be misunderstood and Powhatan proceeded upon another tack. He assured his dear son that his intention in the matter had been misunderstood. There were, it was true, no spare supplies in Werowocomico, but messengers should at once be sent into the surrounding country to collect foodstuff and the English Werowance would in good time be furnished with as much as he desired. Of course this was only a ruse to gain time, and as such Smith recognized it, but he was not himself averse to postponing conclusions, since his boats and men could not join him for some days. He immediately set gangs of Indians to work in breaking up the ice, explaining that he would need the pinnace to load his supplies upon when they arrived. Powhatan was not in the least deceived by this explanation and himself sent to the various chiefs under his dominion for reinforcements. In the meantime, wishing to establish an alibi in connection with the murder of Captain Smith, which he had planned, he withdrew to a neighboring village.

The next day, there were few Indians in evidence, although several hundreds of them lay concealed within arrow shot. Smith’s men were engaged on the bank of the river, whilst he and Doctor Russell were consulting together in a wigwam at some distance. Suddenly they became aware of the approach of scores of silent savages from every direction. They were armed, and a glance was sufficient to perceive that their intentions were evil. Two or three carried torches with which they proposed to fire the wigwam and then brain the white men as they should run out. Russell was for instantly rushing upon the foe, but Smith, who never lost his head in any emergency, checked him.

“Nay,” he said, laying his hand upon the other’s arm. “Rest we here until they be close upon the house when they durst not shoot their arrows for fear of slaying one the other. Then will we sally against them and fend ourselves from their tomahawks as best we can.”

The advice was excellent, for had they exposed themselves otherwise they must have been killed at the first discharge. Each had his pistols with him, and these they quietly primed and with composure awaited the oncoming savages. At length they were within a few yards of the house, and at the word from Smith, Doctor Russell sprang out at his side. Four Indians fell at the discharge of the pistols which were fired in their very faces. Those in front hastily leaped out of the line of the smoking weapons, making a lane into which the Englishmen dashed, swinging their swords right and left. The sortie was so sudden and unexpected that Smith and his companion were clear through the circle of savages and speeding towards the river before the Indians could recover from their surprise. They might easily have overtaken the Englishmen, being much more fleet of foot, but the appearance of Smith’s men, who had been warned by the pistol reports, checked all thought of pursuit.

This episode made it evident that Powhatan had determined upon desperate measures, and it also satisfied Smith that he could no longer look for any immunity on account of his membership in the tribe. The next morning Powhatan, his plot having failed, returned to the town and sent a messenger to Smith with a strip of wampum in token of peace. He was exceedingly sorry that some of his people had rashly taken advantage of his temporary absence on the business of the captain’s supplies to attack their brother chief. The culprits, fearing his wrath, had taken to the woods, but on their return they should be severely punished. Tomorrow Powhatan would load the ship of the English Werowance with corn and he hoped that they would part good friends. To all of this Smith contented himself by replying that he should be ready to receive the corn when it arrived and to pay a fair price for it in any commodity but weapons.

Smith thought it hardly possible that Powhatan would venture another attack now that the pinnace with reinforcements was close at hand, and he might have been taken by surprise but for a timely warning. As he lay in his wigwam late that night, thinking over the many weighty affairs depending upon his disposition, he heard his name called softly as out of the ground. At length he realized that some one was whispering under the edge of the wigwam. Going out cautiously, he found Pocahontas awaiting him. She had come at the risk of her life to warn him, for she declared that if her father learned that she had betrayed his secret, he would kill her with his own hand. In agitated whispers, broken by her tears, she informed her adopted brother that it had been arranged to delay the loading on the following day, so that Smith would be unexpectedly compelled to spend another night on shore. That after dark, a feast would be borne to him by eight men who would wait upon him and the two gentlemen who usually supped with him. That, at a favorable opportunity, the attendant Indians would seize the arms of the Englishmen and give a signal to the band of warriors by whom the wigwam would be surrounded. Having told her story, the Indian maiden vanished silently into the night.

Smith of course laid his plans to circumvent his astute adoptive father, but he made no effort to expedite the loading which was delayed as he had been led to expect, so that night fell before it had been completed. Smith, Doctor Russell and George Percy sat down to supper as usual that night, just as eight unarmed, but stalwart, Indians, who looked little like waiters, came to the wigwam laden with viands which Powhatan begged his dear son and friends to accept. They were pleased to do so, and proceeded to attack the bountiful supply of good things without delay. But, to the dismay of the waiters, the Englishmen did not lay aside their arms. On the contrary, each of them had four pistols in his belt and a fifth cocked and primed by his side upon the ground. Furthermore, they lined themselves with their backs against the side of the wigwam, so that they constantly faced their anxious attendants who had thus no chance to spring upon them unawares. The Indians were plainly nonplussed and disconcerted. The feasters, whilst eating leisurely, enjoyed to the full the discomfiture of their intended captors. Smith vowed that it was the goodliest entertainment he had had since landing in Virginia. When our adventurers had filled their stomachs, they quietly levelled their pistols at the waiters and signed to them to keep silence and to lie down. They then bound each with cord, allowing them sufficient freedom of the legs to hobble. Pushing two of these before him as a shield, Smith threw back the skin flap and stood in the entrance of the wigwam.

“Warriors of the Powhatans!” he cried, addressing the concealed savages, to whom he knew that the light of the fire at his back made him plainly visible. “Warriors of the Powhatans! The English sleep like the village dog, with one eye cocked, but you think to find us snoring like old women when you steal upon us in the night. We also have learned something of the ambuscade since coming among you. What ho, my men!”

An answering shout ran along in the rear of the line of lurking savages, conveying to them the uncomfortable announcement that they had lain shadowed by a band of English.

“Back to your wigwams, valiants!” continued Smith derisively, “and dream of conquests that ye are not fit to achieve. If there be one among you bold enough to essay a single combat let him come out with his club and I with my bare hands will meet him. No? Then away with you! Your brother assassins will I hold in surety of a peaceful night’s slumber.” With that he re-entered the wigwam, pulling his bound Indians after him.

The pinnace was loaded without hitch the next morning. Indeed, the Indians, who appeared to be much depressed, had no greater desire than to see the strangers depart. When all was ready, Smith handed to them a liberal recompense for the provisions they had supplied, although their repeated treacheries would have fully justified him, one would think, in refusing payment. The barges were yet empty and Smith determined to go on to Pamaunke, the seat of his old enemy Opechancanough, and see if he could not induce that chief to complete the supply.

The expedition had no sooner left Werowocomico, than two of the renegade Dutchmen journeyed with all haste to Jamestown. There they purported to deliver a message from the President, and by means of this ruse secured a number of weapons, tools, and other useful articles, besides persuading six of their countrymen to desert the colony and, like themselves, throw in their lot with the Indians.