where one is scarcely so. A young Indian lay mortally ill, and they took
Smith to him and demanded that forthwith he be cured. If the white man
could kill -- how they were not able to see -- he could likewise doubtless
restore life. But the Indian presently died. His father, crying out in fury,
fell upon the stranger who could have done so much and would not! Here also
coolness saved the white man.

Smith was now led in triumph from town to town through the winter woods.
The James was behind him, the Chickahominy also; he was upon new great
rivers, the Pamunkey and the Rappahannock. All the villages were much
alike, alike the still woods, the sere patches from which the corn had been
taken, the bear, the deer, the foxes, the turkeys that were met with, the
countless wild fowl. Everywhere were the same curious, crowding savages,
the fires, the rustic cookery, the covering skins of deer and fox and
otter, the oratory, the ceremonial dances, the manipulations of medicine
men or priests--these last, to the Englishmen, pure "devils with antique
tricks." Days were consumed in this going from place to place. At one point
was produced a bag of gunpowder, gained in some way from Jamestown. It was
being kept with care to go into the earth in the spring and produce, when
summer came, some wonderful crop.

Opechancanough was a great chief, but higher than he moved Powhatan, chief
of chiefs. This Indian was yet a stranger to the English in Virginia. Now
John Smith was to make his acquaintance.

Werowocomoco stood upon a bluff on the north side of York River. Here came
Smith and his captors, around them the winter woods, before them the broad
blue river. Again the gathered Indians, men and women, again the staring,
the handling, the more or less uncomplimentary remarks; then into the
Indian ceremonial lodge he was pushed. Here sat the chief of chiefs,