Pocahontas (5 page)

"Matoaka," he said in a soft voice. I drew closer to him. My father had called me by the name that only my closest family knows. It means Snow Floating Down Like Feathers. Clearly he wished his words to go to my heart.

"I am listening," I said, resting my hands on his knees.

My father laid the necklace of pearls across his lap and placed his hands on my shoulders. "
Nechaun
, my child, I see that these new Tassantassuk are not like the Espaniuk. Maybe they will be of use to us. They have strong weapons. Maybe I will be able to use them and their weapons against our enemies."

My father's words were wise. Still, for it is my nature, I had to ask him another question.

"If they will be our friends, why do you not send for them? Bring them here to Werowocomoco to see how great you are and swear allegiance to you."

My father smiled at my words. "Favorite daughter," he said, "I may do just that. But first we must be patient. I have sent word to our villages that each may do as they wish for now with the Tassantassuk. If they want to fight with them, let them try
to do so. If they want to try to be friends with them, that, too, will be their decision."

"Can we not tell all our villages to be friendly to the Coatmen?" I asked.

My father shook his head. "You know how our villages are. If not for my alliance, they would still be fighting each other to no good purpose. So I allow them to each try their own way. For now. And I will watch. This way I will see what sort of people these Coatmen are."

With that he removed his hands from my shoulders and took up his string of pearls again.

***

I have done as my father asked and not gone to the camp of the Coatmen. Of course, I do not always do what he tells me. I come and go as I choose and do what I want to do. Sometimes, I am told I get in the way of others when I do this. But I have found that if I make a joke of it, if I make faces or go tumbling head over heels, I can make people laugh.

I am sure that with my teasing and my tricks I could make even some of the Coatmen laugh. But probably not all of them. I am told that the Coatmen have such stiff faces that they do not crack easily into a laugh.

Many stories have been coming upriver to us about the Coatmen. Some of them are very hard for me to believe, as hard to believe as the contradictory words the Coatmen speak to our people. First these Tassantassuk say that they are only making a visit to trade. Yet they are now building a strong fort. Then they say that they wish to be friends. Yet they become angry and violent about small things. If any one of our people even touches one of their fire sticks, they beat that person or try to kill him. They beg us to get food for them. But they are just
as likely to shoot their fire sticks at us when we bring them the gift of a deer for food as well as when some of our young men fire arrows at them to test the strength of their hard coats.

"Those Tassantassuk," Rawhunt has said to me, "are like the wind, the wind from the great water. One moment they are warm and fair, and the next the sky fills with clouds, fills with clouds, and they are stormy and unpredictable."

Some have suggested to my father that these newcomers should be wiped out. Such words have been spoken most often by Wowinchopunck, who is the werowance of Paspahegh. He has found it hard to live next to those rude and troublesome newcomers. But my father does not wish to destroy these Tassantassuk. Perhaps there is some sorrow in his heart, too, for what was done just this past year to the Chesepiock. He hopes these new Coatmen can be trained to behave properly, as friends. He does not yet imagine they might be the ones to fulfill the prophecy and not the Chesepiock.

What was that prophecy of which I speak? It was given to my father by our priests. One day they went into the
yihacan
of Okeus. Ahone is the Great Spirit who made all things, but Okeus is the power who watches over the affairs of humans and judges us severely when we do things that are wrong. His priests are of great importance to us, for their guidance not only shows us how to live our lives each day, but may help us escape great disasters by foreseeing them before they come to be.

It is easy to recognize a Powhatan priest. His dress and his hair are different from those of all other men. Our men always shave all of the hair from the right side of their head. Not only does this make them more handsome, it also prevents their long hair from getting tangled in the string of a bow. A priest, though, keeps a lock of hair above his ear on the right side. It shows that he can hear the voice of Okeus.

When my father's greatest priest, Uttomatomakkin, led the priests from the sacred house of Okeus the day of the prophecy, his face was grim. He wore a beautiful mande made of turkey feathers and is never without paint on his head and shoulders.

"From the Great Salt Water Bay," Uttomatomakkin said in slow and measured tones, as he shook the deer-toe rattle he carries wherever he goes, "a nation shall arise. It will tear apart and bring an end to all that the Mamanatowic has made."

My father thought long and hard about those awful words. Finally he decided that the prophecy referred to those villages along the bay that had resisted joining his alliance. He would make it so that the prophecy could not come true. He made war on the Chesepiocks and the Piankatanks, wiping them out. He also attacked and removed the Kecoughtans from their nearby land.

I asked the priest about what my father had done. Was it the right thing? It bothered me, because I do not like to hear of men killing one another.

Uttomatomakkin looked at me as he does when he says my words are more like an adult's than a child's. Then he sighed.

"Amonute," he said, "words of prophecy are sometimes strange. Just as they fill your ears with warnings of danger to come, they may also blind your eyes to the real source of that trouble."

***

Having many mothers to care for me, especially my father's sisters, I seldom miss my mother. Even if she had lived, I would not have seen her often. Because he is the Great Chief, my father has many wives from our many different towns. Though my mother was one of his favorites, she would not have stayed at our town of Werowocomoco. Instead, she would have re
mained with her family at Paspahegh, which is close to that place where the new Tassantassuk have made their camp. My mother's sisters who still live there are always glad to see me, especially Plants the Seeds, her younger sister, who I am told looks just like my mother. But I do not travel there often. Even before the Coatmen came, it was not always safe to travel to Paspahegh. My father has tried to bring all the towns together, to make us strong and keep us in peace, but there are still many who hate us and make war on us. The Monacanuk and Pocoughtaonackuk are fierce enemies to us. Although they speak our language and my father yet hopes to bring them into his great alliance, they have hurt us. They continue to make raids on our villages, taking women and children as captives. It was in one of their attacks on Paspahegh, the Village at the Mouth of the Stream, that my mother was killed. She refused to be captured, and ran into the river. I know that she did not mean to die there. One of the enemies was angry at her for escaping and struck her with an arrow as she swam.

I do not mention my mother's name, because her spirit has risen to the high place and walked the beautiful road toward the sunrise. To call her name might confuse her spirit in its journey. But I remember her face and the gentleness of her hands. I remember, too, how strong willed she was. My father says that my own strong will is like that of the one who gave birth to me. It pleases me to hear such words from him.

It still does not please me that he will not allow me to go and see the Coatmen's camping place.

Yet I understand my father's words. His wisdom is that of one who has seen so many springs. It is known among our people that wisdom grows with each returning of the leaves. That is why we cherish all those among us who have lived long. And because they know how we cherish them, our old people
are encouraged to stay among us and delay their journey to the happy home in the Sky Land, where berries are always ripe. Some among us are so loved that they have seen more than a hundred returnings of the leaves. It is sad that my mother was not given the chance to live to a great age. She was certainly cherished by all who knew her. Her spirit was strong enough to have stayed among us so much longer.

Perhaps it is because the Coatmen have made their camp so close to my mother's town of Paspahegh that I wish to go there and see them. I have not been there often, but I know just where they are staying. Their camping spot is one that our people use in the moons when the river flows high and the water is good. It is not such a good spot, though, when the moons of great heat come upon us. Then the waters are low and smell bad. Then the little biting ones that take your blood come in such great clouds that unless you keep a smoky fire going, you suck them into your mouth with every breath.

My father said that the camping place they have chosen may prove one of two things. It may prove that these Coatmen do not intend to stay long among us, for that place is ill suited for a long stay.

"It may also prove," my father said, as he tossed aside a pearl that was cracked and not strong enough to place in his necklace, "that these Tassantassuk, despite their sharp knives and thunder sticks, are fools."

That night was the box opened and the orders read in which Bartholomew Gosnoll, John Smith, Edward Wingfield, Christopher Newport, John Ratliffe, John Martin, and George Kendall were named to be the council; and to choose a president amongst them for a year who with the council should govern. Matters of moment were to be examined by a jury but determined by the major part of the council in which the president had two votes.

—FROM
T
HE
G
ENERALL
H
ISTORIE
BY
J
OHN
S
MITH

APRIL
26
TH–MAY
13
TH
, 1607

T
HE GATHERING AND OPENING
of the three boxes, one of which had been bestowed in each of our vessels for the trip, was done with great excitement. Too many were interested for it to be done in private, and so much of our company was gathered upon the deck of our Admiral. Despite his hurts, Captain Archer, his hands bound to staunch the blood, did attend. Howbeit restrained, I was allowed to be present. There, no doubt, I would hear the name of my betters spoken and be pressed down yet further into my place of inferiority.

Puffed as a pigeon, the great Edward Maria Wingfield gazed down his nose with a look of perfect superiority before turning his back upon me. Then, with a smile, Wingfield flourished the list as yet unfolded.

"Hear now," he said, "the name of those worthies who shall lead our happy company."

"Edward Maria Wingfield," he intoned, then with false modesty smirked. "Ah, but am I worthy?" He then looked about, more puffed than before, mayhap feeling the mande of president falling already upon his shoulders.

He cleared his throat and continued, a slow reader, taking but one word at a time, as if picking bits of meat from a platter. "Captain Christopher Newport. Yes, our own good admiral. Bartholomew Gosnoll, a fine gentleman planter. Captain John Ratliffe, ah, what wisdom do our sponsors show."

Then, for he had read ahead a bit on his list, the air went out of the pigeon's chest and his shoulders slumped. He coughed and sputtered as if a fit had come upon him. His countenance darkened. Yet Wingfield could not pause forever, nor could he feign not to read the seventh and final name of those good gentlemen chosen by the Virginia Company. Others, myself amongst them, were already reading the list over the popinjay's rounded shoulder.

"I do misdoubt," Wingfield said in a near whisper that only those closest to him could hear.

"Read on," a rough voice shouted from back in the crowd. It was the seaman John Collson.

Wingfield looked up, a protest near to birthing on his lips. But other voices echoed that call.

"An error," Wingfield said, his voice a bit stronger. "The other copies of the list may correct this."

In fine, the other two boxes divulged their contents. The
lists were seen identical, the reading completed with the speaking of the final two names in that list of seven chosen and most worthy gentlemen.

"George Kendall," Wingfield read. And then, spitting out the words as if bitter medicine, "John Smith."

It was to me no measure of surprise that though chosen I was yet not suffered to serve. An oration was made why Captain Smith was not to be admitted of the council as the rest. Agreement was forged among those special six, the council sworn in, and Master Wingfield was chosen president.

On the seven and twentieth day, we began to build up our shallop that had been brought in pieces from England. A party of gentlemen and soldiers marched eight miles into the land without seeing a salvage in all that march. They did come to a place where a great fire had been made and oysters that had been newly a-roasting were left in the fire. Those oysters, George Percy assured me, were very large and delicate in taste.

On the eight and twentieth day the shallop was launched. The captain and some gentlemen went in her and discovered up the bay. Upon the thirtieth they coasted to a town. The captain called to the naturals in sign of friendship and lay his hand upon his heart. Upon that, the salvages lay down their bows and arrows and welcomed the adventurers to their town of Kecoughtan. Further discovery was made up the river, which has a strong flow and might turn to be that northwest passage that would lead us across the narrow continent to the western ocean.

At length, upon the thirteenth day of May, a place to plant in was chosen next to the river. Linked to the mainland by a narrow neck of land that was quite underwater when the tide was high, it seemed it might be easily defended. Three miles long and a mile in width, it was believed by those who chose it to be a goodly place.