When all the stolen goods had been returned, Captain Newport told the Indian leaders that the English looked upon theft as a very serious crime. “But,” he added, “because your warriors do not understand how bad their crime was, we will forgive them. If your men wish to take home souvenirs of our visit, I will give them these as gifts.” Keeping the ammunition, he handed the bags and other small items back to the Indians.
Sam sighed, relieved. But he wondered, Do the Indians think it’s all right to take an object that is left out in the open? Perhaps they have different notions of crime than we do. Sam mulled this over. He’d never thought about what made an action right or wrong—he’d always just accepted what his parents had told him.
Who decides what a crime is? Sam asked himself. The Indians may consider some of our actions to be crimes. Would they punish us, even if we didn’t know we did something bad? The more Sam puzzled over these questions, the more confused he felt. Finally, he brushed them aside and busied himself gathering dry wood to build up the cooking fires.
Arahatec left, taking some of his men with him, but Parahunt and the other Indians remained for the meal. Sailors had hung the boat’s sail between two trees, and Captain Newport invited Parahunt to sit with him under its shade. Parahunt ate a large serving of pork and eagerly tasted the beer that the captain offered him.
Parahunt and the other Indians left after dinner, but Nauirans boarded the boat with the explorers. The sailors guided the shallop upstream through the rippling waters. Soon the river began to flow swiftly between boulders and around small islands. Newport ordered the sailors to pull the boat up at an island.
“I have decided that we will go no farther on our present expedition,” Newport announced. “On this spot, I erect a cross. I hereby claim this river for England!”
Newport pounded a wooden cross into the soil. On the wood was the Latin name of England’s King James, “Jacobus Rex,” as well as the date, “1607.” With his knife, Newport carved his own name below the king’s, because he was the leader of the expedition that discovered this river and named it for his sovereign.
“I name this mighty river for the glory of England!” Newport declared grandly as he straightened up and faced his men. “Henceforth, it will be known as King James’s River. The River James.”
“Huzzah!” all of the explorers shouted. “For the glory of King James! Huzzah!”
Nauirans frowned as the men shouted. He moved forward. Gesturing with his hands, he asked the meaning of the captain’s words and the shouting.
Newport smiled and pointed to the vertical stick on the cross. “This is King Powhatan, tall and mighty,” Newport lied. Pointing to the horizontal stick, he added, “And this is Captain Newport, the head of the English settlement. Where our sticks are fastened together in the middle, we are one. United.” Newport swept his arm around the group. “My men shouted to show their respect for our alliance. They are proud to be friends of the Powhatans.”
Nauirans nodded, pleased. He glanced at Sam and smiled. Ashamed of the lie that Newport had told, Sam avoided meeting Nauirans’s eyes.
Then the Englishmen scrambled among the rocks, exploring the area. They walked upstream along the riverbank until they came to a waterfall. Nauirans told them it would take many days to walk to the spot where two small streams flow together to create this mighty river.
After a few hours, Captain Newport gestured for Nauirans to find Parahunt and bring him to the falls. When Nauirans returned with his king, Newport waded ashore and presented a fine hatchet to Parahunt. Nauirans encouraged the explorers to stand on the deck of the shallop and cheer. The Englishmen made a great show of enthusiasm. “Huzzah for Parahunt!” they shouted. “Farewell, King of the Powhatans! Good-bye, our Indian ally! Wingapoh!”
Sam shouted, too. But he felt guilty, thinking of their shout at the planting of the cross on the little island. Captain Newport lied to Nauirans, he thought. Parahunt would be angry if he knew that we claimed this river for our King James. Maybe the Indians have different ideas about right and wrong, but in England I was taught that lying is a sin.
Parahunt and his men took off their capes and waved them above their heads as they shouted a return farewell. Then Captain Newport stepped into the shallop, and the sailors, who had been holding the boat in place with their oars, let it drift down the river with the current. They ran up the sail, and the shallop picked up speed.
The expedition reached Arahatec’s village after nightfall. They found that the villagers had prepared a meal to welcome back their English friends.
The next day, the explorers toured the Indian homes and fields. Sam wandered among the cooking fires and smelled roasting meat and hearty stews. Curious children pulled at his clothing and touched his skin.
Sam studied the Indian women as they worked. They wore very little clothing, and he was amazed by their nakedness. Back in England, women wore dresses that covered them from chest to toe, even in hot weather. When Sam’s mother and grandmother worked, they tucked their hair under white caps. But the Indian women let their black hair hang in loose clumps on their shoulders. The Indian girls around Sam’s age wore their hair shaved, except for a long braid hanging down in back.
One of the village women smiled at Sam and offered him a chunk of warm bread made from ground corn. As he bit into it, Sam thought of the kitchen at his family’s farm. His mother used to hand him little bits of food to tide him over until dinner. Suddenly, he wished he was back home in England. He longed to be surrounded by familiar things, to smell English food cooking over hearth fires, to see his family, and to understand all the words that people spoke.
Thoughts of England disappeared in the afternoon when Sam watched the Indians demonstrate how they fought, using trees as shields. His eyes lit up as the Indians jabbed the air with wooden swords to show how they attacked their enemies.
In return, Captain Newport ordered Smith to demonstrate an English gun. When Smith fired the gun, the noise startled the villagers, who clamped their hands over their ears. Sam chuckled when a few frightened Indians jumped into the river.
Smiling, Smith announced, “The noise will not harm you.” He rested his gun on the ground and put his hand on his heart. “We are your friends,” he gestured. “We use our guns only against enemies.”
Cautiously, the Indians approached. They reached out their hands and gingerly touched the metal gun barrel.
Next day, the explorers continued downstream until they reached Point Weyanock, where they made camp. In the morning, Nauirans directed some villagers to catch fish and bring baskets full of them to the Englishmen. Then he called Sam, lifted the boy’s chin, and looked into his eyes and said something. Sam narrowed his eyes, trying to understand. But before he could ask Nauirans to explain, the man turned to Captain Newport and announced that he was leaving.
Captain Newport was startled. “You’re leaving? I expected you’d stay with us until we got back to our settlement, Nauirans,” said the captain. “Your presence has assured us of safe passage through your people’s villages. You’ve guided us and shown us your customs. I want to take you to the fort we’re building and show you our English customs.”
Nauirans smiled. He said something and held up three, then four fingers.
“So you’ll stay with us?” asked Newport.
Nauirans turned and walked briskly into the forest.
Smith said, “I wonder why he was in such a hurry to leave? I thought he’d taken a liking to us.”
“He held up four fingers. Maybe he meant he’d return in that amount of time,” Sam suggested. “Perhaps he’ll come to our settlement in four days.”
Newport rubbed his chin with his hand. “Something doesn’t make sense. Why would our Indian guide walk off so abruptly? With no explanation?”
The men began to mutter. Captain Newport’s eyes scanned the river as if he was expecting visitors. Smith picked up his gun and walked the length of their camp, peering into the shadows between the tree
s.
“What’s the matter? What are the men saying?” Sam asked.
“They’re afraid the Indians have betrayed us, Sam. Captain Newport thinks we’d better cut our expedition short and return to the settlement today.”
Every muscle in Sam’s body tightened. Are we going to be attacked? He remembered the battle scars on the Weyanock men. Did we understand what the Indians said to us? Perhaps it was not friendship they were offering.
6
Danger Every Minute
As soon as he caught sight of the settlement, Sam could tell something was wrong. There was no activity on the riverbank and no sound of trees being felled in the nearby forest. Around the tents, men stood guard.
Leaving a couple of sailors to secure the shallop, Captain Newport hurried up the bank. Sam and the others followed. The guards greeted them with tense, frightened faces.
“We were ambushed yesterday, Cap’n. Seventeen wounded,” a guard related. “And one dead—a boy.”
The color drained out of Sam’s face. “Nate?” he asked. The guard tilted his head toward Calthrop’s tent, and Sam scrambled inside.
Calthrop and nine other men were huddled inside the tent. They looked up when Sam pushed his way in. He scanned their faces, searching frantically for Nate.
“Sam Collier!” said a familiar voice.
Sam gave a sigh of relief and crawled over to Nate.
Nate peered at him in the dim light. “You’re back! Thank God you’re safe and sound, Sam! After they ambushed us, we feared the savages might attack the shallop, too.”
“The guard told me a boy was killed!” Sam said. “I was afraid….”
“You can’t imagine how horrible it was, Sam.” Nate’s voice began to tremble. “The savages crept up on us, surrounded the fort. There must have been two hundred of them. All of a sudden, they began shrieking. Arrows were flying everywhere! Men were screaming! Most of our guns were still packed in crates. We couldn’t defend ourselves, and we had no place to hide.”
“Is it true that a boy was killed? Who? Richard Mutton?” Sam paused. “Not James?”
Nate looked away.
“James!” Sam cried. “James Brumfield? He’s dead?”
Silence. Sam thought he saw tears on Nate’s cheeks.
Calthrop leaned over and put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “It’s true, Sam. James is dead. He must have made a dash for the Discovery during the attack. It happened so fast,” Calthrop said. “So many men were wounded and bleeding. After the savages finally ran off, Master Edward called the boy, but he didn’t answer. Nobody knew where he was.”
“I climbed aboard the Discovery looking for cloth for bandages,” Nate said. “That’s when I found him. He was curled on his side. He didn’t answer when I called to him, but his eyes were open.”
Nate’s voice broke. “You remember how scared he always was? Of the ocean, of the natives, of everything? I bent down and rolled him over. That’s when I saw the arrow in his neck. Oh, Sam, he was dead as a stone! The Indians killed him! They killed James!”
Sam was stunned. “They killed James,” he repeated softly, trying to make himself believe the news. When did I last see him? Sam asked himself. I forgot to go find him before I went aboard the shallop. I didn’t say good-bye.
Sam remembered crouching beside James, on the night their ship pitched and heaved in that terrible storm. He remembered telling James they’d ride out the storm. That everything would be fine. Little, nervous James, Sam thought. He’ll never get seasick again. He’ll never get used to Virginia or see England again. He’ll never become a man.
Fearing the Indians might attack again, the settlers did not take the time to make a casket for James. After all, he was only a child. Two sailors wrapped his little body in an old cloth and laid it in the damp ground.
During the funeral service, Sam stood between Master Smith and Nate. Memories of James flooded Sam’s mind and drove out all other thoughts. Reverend Hunt led the colony in a psalm. Sam was aware of the minister’s voice, but it was sound without meaning for him.
Sam remembered how he had snatched off James’s cap when the fleet was docked at Blackwall Port. He remembered how irritated he was when James kept chattering about sea serpents and giant crabs on the morning the ships left the Canary Islands. I wish I hadn’t snapped at him, Sam thought miserably.
In his mind, he saw James’s nimble hands grabbing the little birds on Monito. He could almost hear James’s voice, calling an alligator a “loathsome beast.” That thought made Sam smile a little. He remembered lying on his blanket beside James on the night the colonists chose this site for their settlement, and how James had excitedly told him the new line he had made up for one of their shipboard poems. Silently, Sam recited their verse:
We crossed the waves to find a world new,
A hundred settlers, not just a few.
The sky was our church, the ship was our pew,
We weathered storms on the ocean blue.
Of blessed Virginny, we at last had a view.
Suddenly, Sam realized that he hadn’t told James the last line of the poem. James fell asleep before I had a chance to tell him. If only I’d told him the new line I made up! he thought. One hot tear inched down Sam’s cheek as he watched the sailors shovel clumps of dirt into his friend’s shallow grave. Of blessed Virginny, we at last had a view. Over and over, he repeated the line, wishing James could hear it before the earth covered his ears. “Of blessed Virginny, you had a brief view,” Sam whispered. Finally, he added one last line: To our dream of a new world, you died holding true. Sam knew the poem was finished now. It had become the epitaph for his little friend.
During the rest of the day, all the talk inside the fort was about the ambush. Sam heard the details again and again. By evening, Sam could imagine the attack so vividly that he almost felt as if he’d been there. He knew the settlers had lost precious minutes trying to unpack weapons and ammunition while the Indians’ arrows rained down on them.
Sam listened as Calthrop described the attack to Smith. Four of the council members had been wounded while defending the fort. Master Wingfield had led the English defense, and he had narrowly escaped death when an arrow flew right through his beard.
During the ambush, some of the men made a desperate dash for the ships. When they reached the Susan Constant, they fired its cannon. All the settlers agreed that’s what saved the day.
“We were fortunate,” Calthrop said. “When we fired the cannon, the noise startled the Indians. Then the cannonball slammed into the trees and knocked down a heavy branch. The branch made a great racket when it landed on some of the Indians. That started the whole lot of savages howling and running off, like they’d been attacked by magical forces.”
“We won’t be so fortunate next time,” Smith remarked. “It won’t take the Indians long to realize that our cannon simply knocked down a branch. The Indians are brave fighters. When we were in their villages, some of them showed us their battle scars. They’re not afraid of hand-to-hand combat.”
“You went into the savages’ village?” Calthrop asked him, astounded.
“We went into village after village. They showed us the fields where they plant their crops. The houses where they live. How they hunt and fish. Even how they do battle. The Indians offered us great hospitality, Stephen. They feasted us and supplied us with guides for our journey.”
“Monsters! Treacherous monsters!” hissed Calthrop. “While they kept you busy feasting, they sneaked up on our settlement to massacre the rest of us!”
“I don’t know,” said Smith, thoughtfully. “I don’t know if Parahunt’s people betrayed us.”
“John, what are you talking about? The Indians ambushed us! We were unarmed. They tried to wipe out every man of us. If that isn’t betrayal, I don’t know what is!”
“There are different groups of Indians, Stephen. Almost like the nations in Europe,” Smith explained. “They have wars with each other. On our expedition, we
met the Indians who are ruled by Powhatan. Perhaps another group of—”
Calthrop didn’t wait to hear the rest of Smith’s explanation. He shook his head and stomped off.
Sam was back at the settlement only two days before a group of Indians attacked again, on Friday, May 29. This time, the Englishmen were ready. They fired, but the Indians kept out of range of the guns. Many arrows landed around the tents, but the Indians were too far away from the fort to aim accurately, and no Englishmen were hurt. The colonists dared not leave the guarded area the rest of that day, even though they had so much work to do.
The next day was calm, and the Englishmen cautiously returned to the woods to fell trees. But the following day, when a colonist named Eustace Clovell left the fort unarmed, he was attacked by Indians hiding in the thickets. Clovell staggered back to the fort screaming, “Arm! Arm yourselves!” He had six arrows sticking out of him.
While the men frantically grabbed their guns, Sam and Nate ran to help carry the wounded man into a tent. One of the colony’s two surgeons gave him a swig of liquor and told him to bite down on a strip of leather. The boys held down Clovell’s arms while the surgeon pulled out the arrowheads, one by one, and Clovell writhed with pain. Beads of sweat dotted his face, and muffled screams came from between his clenched teeth. The surgeon stuffed cloth into Clovell’s wounds to stop him from bleeding to death. But Clovell’s blood seeped through the cloth and formed dark puddles on the blanket underneath him.
After removing the arrows, the surgeon told Sam and Nate to bathe Clovell’s forehead with cool water until he fell asleep.
Sam looked at Nate. Are you as scared as I am? he wanted to ask. If the Indians keep attacking, we’ll all be killed! Sam wished he could run away from this place of death, where they were surrounded by danger every minute. His stomach was churning with fear, and he forgot all about his vow to bravely face whatever happened in Virginia.
The next day, the first of June, Indians attacked again. This time, twenty braves knelt in the thicket and shot arrows at the fort, but the settlers’ gunfire kept them from advancing close enough to injure anybody.
Surviving Jamestown Page 7
