The Adventures of Pocahontas and John Rolfe: Book II
Chapter 7: A Creature of Legend
After Chief Powhatan and his warriors had returned to Werowocomoco, another heavy blizzard hit. Though there was not much in the way of precipitation at first, the winds blew strong enough to knock a man off of his feet for the first few days. Men had to literally crawl on hands and knees to go collect their rations from the storehouse. Bill Bates distributed enough rations for a whole week to each household, concerned that another powerful winter storm would snow them all into their homes again soon, but not much was left in the storehouse afterward.
MARCH 12, 1614
The brutal winds and occasional snows continued for seven days, rarely stopping or slowing down for any significant length of time. When Bill Bates distributed enough food supplies for another week, the storehouse was nearly empty. He warned each head of household to make it last as long as possible. On the evening of March 12th, freezing rain started quite suddenly. It was a torrential downpour, which packed down the powdery snow until it became solid ice.
MARCH 13, 1614
The next morning, the tops of homes were relatively clear once the rain had washed away the snow, but massive icicles hung from the eaves of all buildings. The bottoms of the Jamestown houses were all frozen solid in the thick ice. Nobody could so much as budge their front door. Men were outside using pickaxes to try and break up the ice around their homes. Nearby, children ice skated in the town square as they laughed and played games. Light snow flurries fluttered around everyone. Despite the generally light-hearted atmosphere, all of the adults were worried about the food shortage. Their homes were almost empty like the Jamestown storehouse. Every household had maybe a week's worth left at most and the storehouse had even less.
John Rolfe was outside the town hall breaking up ice at the front doors when he felt someone gingerly tap his shoulder. He spun around to see a family of eight. The man stood nearest him and the wife stood behind her husband holding their youngest child, a girl toddler. "Hello, Lord Rolfe. My name is Raphael Bloomsbury. I'm so sorry to bother you at work, my lord, but my wife and I are worried about the food stores. What does the council plan to do if we run out? Is there a backup storage anywhere?" Raphael inquired. Meanwhile, the little children were looking up at the English gentleman with big pleading eyes. Rolfe hated to disappoint them.
The diplomat sighed, but a look of determination befell him. "Listen, we haven't got a secret backup anywhere. But consider this, my friends, we are in early spring here. Soon enough, a ship will come in with supplies or the fish run will start in the rivers. Either way, we won't starve to death—not even if we have to go a few days without food. The very last of our stores will be saved for those who need it most, like the children and the sick—not to mention pregnant and nursing mothers. I myself will gladly go up to a week or more without sustenance if it means that the most vulnerable members of our settlement will have what they need, you have my word."
The couple looked worriedly at each other. "But Lord Rolfe," the wife expressed, "do you really know what it's like to go hungry? My husband and I do. You might not tolerate it as well as you think. We do not mean to sound skeptical, sir, but a man of your rank can get what he needs more easily than the rest of us when times are tough. It's something we've experienced firsthand."
"Verity, don't say such things!" Raphael chided her. "This man is not like the other gentlemen. That much is clear. He is not opposed to physical work. We shouldn't insult him."
John Rolfe flashed a smile, which surprised the family. "Not to worry, Mr. Bloomsbury. I am not insulted and I understand your wife's hesitation. It might come as a surprise to you both that I do know what it's like to go hungry for up to three days at a time. It happened in the very recent past, in fact. Don't believe me? Ask Princess Pocahontas. She was there and she experienced the same misery that I did. I know it is a terrible experience, but it is survivable. As soon as the earth thaws, we will plant all the fields around the settlement with corn, barley, and other edible crops to ensure this winter's unfortunate events never happen again. Does that help ease your mind?"
The couple exchanged glances, smiled, and turned back to John Rolfe to give him a nod. "Yes, sir. We're still a bit worried, but it helps tremendously to know that our leaders are trustworthy," Verity Bloomsbury replied. "I suppose that we'll just have to pray for luck at this point."
"Believe me, I've been doing lots of praying myself. It certainly never hurts," John Rolfe said. He gave Raphael a pat on the shoulder. "Now, if there's nothing else you need, I probably should be getting back to work. Don't want the townspeople thinking I refuse to get my hands dirty."
"Certainly, Lord Rolfe. Thank you so much," Raphael concluded.
Verity Bloomsbury turned to leave. "Come along, children. Let's go play with the others."
John Rolfe smiled as the family walked away. Raphael got back to work and Verity went to supervise the children playing on the ice. He had to admit to himself that he was a bit relieved that neither of them had mentioned Thomas West. It seemed that the only people who knew about West's mysterious condition were John Rolfe himself, the Powhatans, the Jamestown officials, the Quincys, the constable, the doctor, the preacher, and the guards—all of whom were firmly instructed not to say anything to their families or others concerning the matter.
MARCH 17, 1614
It was time for rations to be handed out again, but there were very few supplies left. Since the weather was so cold and windy, John Rolfe called a town meeting together in the town hall. "Listen, everyone. I know you're all worried about the food situation. I am as well. We've done very well conserving this past winter, but the fact of the matter is that most of us will have to go a while without food. By 'a while,' I mean up to a week or more. The rations remaining are on reserve for the children, the sick, and pregnant or nursing mothers. This change means a couple of things. Everyone is off of work duty, including the soldiers. I expect you all to stay home and keep warm by the fire. Try to keep children from becoming too rambunctious or they'll work up an appetite. There is plenty of firewood in the storehouse, so please load up before you go home today if you haven't already. Do not be afraid to sleep in. In fact, the interim governor and I very much encourage you to do so. The more you rest, the less energy you'll need to stay alive. While at home, I encourage you all to share stories and play board games together to help distract from your hunger. Most of all, I encourage you to pray and to trust in God that relief will soon come."
Murmurs and whispered prayers were heard around the room, which John Rolfe found highly encouraging. But then a man cried out suddenly, "What will we do if the next supply ship never comes in like the last one? We'll starve before any of the crops even have a chance to ripen!"
Edward Wingfield moved in. "Thank you, Lord Rolfe. I just have a few items to add. Please, sir, be calm. Things are not as bad as you think. The Powhatans have informed us that food will be available again as soon as the waterways start to thaw. A spring fish run means we'll be able to go out with cast nets and catch more than enough fish to feed everyone in town until other food sources become available. So relief will soon arrive either way. Normally, the fish run starts in early March, but it will be a bit late this year on account of the cold winter weather."
Benjamin Beast stepped forward with an angry expression. "Lord John Rolfe is the only man we trust! You and the other councilors ate from West's hoarded food supply this past December and didn't bother to share with any of us so-called 'peasants.' How do we know you don't have food hidden away right now, eh?" he exclaimed. Echoes of agreement circulated the whole room.
The clamor caused the interim governor to step back, intimidated. John Rolfe stepped forward, holding up his hands in defense of the councilors. "Listen, my friends. I understand why you distrust the council. However, I think you should give them a chance to redeem themselves. Think of it like this. None of these men had a rank to match that of Baron West. Everyone and I mean everyone, lived in fear of that awful man. West threatened the families of those who went against his orders, after all, and these men here all have families too. Like you, they were afraid to get on Thomas West's bad side for the sake of their loved ones. And, besides, I have spoken to the council about the food situation. For the sake of building trust with the people of Jamestown, they have all agreed to open their own homes to inspection. All the councilors and I have sworn that not a bite of food will pass our lips until more becomes available. That which remains, as of right now, is for pregnant or nursing women, children, and invalids alone. Alright?"
The people seemed to consider John Rolfe's words. Finally, several murmurs of agreement and concession came from the crowd. John Rolfe smiled. "Aye," uttered the Scotsman.
…
MARCH 18, 1614
That night was windy. Most of the townspeople went to bed hungry, including John Rolfe. Still, he slept relatively peacefully until morning. It was a scream of terror that awakened him from a fairly restful slumber at the very crack of dawn. His eyes snapped open and he threw back the blankets, shivering in the cold air because the fire had died overnight. Despite the chill, he tore off his nightshirt and threw on some clothes as fast as he could manage. Then John Rolfe ran to the window and tried to yank it up. Ice had frozen it solidly in place. He could not so much as make it budge. He ran to the inn lobby and pried open the door, as the ice had been picked away the day before. The English gentleman threw it open, surprised that the outside was not as cold as it had been. There was still frost in the air, but a warm sun shined on the horizon. "Hello? Who is out there? Do you need any help?" John Rolfe called, not seeing anyone at first glance.
"The storehouse! It's been broken into! Hurry, rouse the councilors!" came the voice.
John Rolfe gasped. "Be right there!" When he reached the scene of the crime, all he could do was gape. A small crowd was gathering around the building that had not just been broken into, it had been partially demolished by some great force. Massive claw marks were all over the broken pieces of timber that had once made up the south-facing wall of the Jamestown storehouse. Rolfe gestured for the crowd to back up as he approached. He spotted a soldier out front with a loaded musket and beckoned the man to hand over the firearm. "I will investigate forthwith. You keep the people back," John Rolfe decreed, taking the gun in hand as the guard handed it over.
He stepped over a broken pole and ducked beneath another as he made his way into the ravaged storehouse. Tiny sprinkles of flour and food were scattered on what was visible of the floor. Most of the inside was too dark. He turned back toward the people and called out, "Someone get me a torch! I can't see a thing. Whatever dangerous creature did this might still be in there!"
A couple minutes later, a guard came over with a bright glowing torch and climbed in to help light John Rolfe's way into the broken building. When the interior was lit up, it became immediately clear that someone or something had stolen and devoured nearly every last scrap of food that remained in the building. The firewood and other supplies were entirely untouched. "Merciful heavens!" John Rolfe declared, pointing the musket toward the back.
"I hear you," agreed the guard. "But whatever it was, it's gone now."
John Rolfe sighed. "Let's hope. We need to go investigate to see where it might've…"
"Lord Rolfe!" came a voice from behind the storehouse. "I've found tracks! They have to belong to some clawed beast. Come look! Oh, it broke through the fort walls in the back!"
John Rolfe gasped. When he climbed out of the broken-in storehouse, a young woman came plodding over and almost slipped on the ice and snow. "Thomas West has escaped! The back wall of the constable's office was ripped out as if by some massive beast! It's witchcraft, I say! The tracks led me here! Oh, the storehouse… it broke into the storehouse as well?" She burst into tears. "My husband was the one guarding him and I've found no sign of him! Where is my poor James?! People, we must find him! I can't live without him!" the poor woman cried.
"We'll send out a search party immediately, Mrs. Read," John Rolfe hurriedly replied.
Pocahontas and the Quincys appeared, gaping at the scene. "John, what's happened?!" cried the Powhatan princess. "What happened to the storehouse? Oh no, the food supplies!"
"Pocahontas! I'm glad you're here. I need you to send a notice to your people straight away. A man is missing and we'll need help to find him," John Rolfe quickly informed her.
"But what happened here?" Rebeccah cried.
John Rolfe frowned. "Some manner of beast came to our settlement and stole all the food in the storehouse. It seems that it has stolen two people as well, Thomas West and James Read. We need to hurry and follow its tracks into the forest. For all we know, they might still be alive!"
The growing crowd was in an uproar. "What could've done it?"
"It must have been a bear of massive size!"
"No, it's witchcraft! Nothing else explains it!"
"It could've been a huge mountain lion!"
"Don't be ridiculous! There's no cougar big enough to do all that!"
"Maybe there is and we just don't know it!"
"It has to be witchcraft! A witch summoned the beast!"
"I'll bet Thomas West was the witch!"
"Maybe Thomas West was just a victim of the witch!"
"How can we find out the truth?"
A few of the male faces in the crowd turned on Pocahontas quite abruptly. One man pointed at the young woman. "The Indian! It has to be a heathen like her who summoned the monster!"
"Yeah, she's the odd one out!" called another male voice.
Pocahontas cried out as a man grabbed her and pulled away from the Quincy family. "You!" he bellowed, forcing her to face him. His breath reeked. "You've done this, haven't you?!"
The confrontation was cut short by Samuel Quincy's fist as it plunged into the man's face. He released Pocahontas's wrist and fell hard on the ice. Samuel pulled Pocahontas behind him just as John Rolfe got there, seeing red. He was on the would-be assailant in an instant.
"John, stop!" Pocahontas cried. He froze right before lambasting the man with the butt of his musket and glanced back at her, his face red with fury. "You don't need to do that. I'm okay."
John Rolfe was so angry, he was shaking. But Pocahontas's words seemed to have the intended effect. He peered back down at the fool cowering on the ground below him and then looked back up at the musket in his grip. Rolfe snorted and handed the musket over to a guard. "Find a place to chain this idiot up. I'm going to speak to the governor about possible banishment."
A middle-aged woman in the crowd gasped. "Banishment? But, my lord, I'm sure my husband meant no harm. He's frightened, as are we all. Sometimes frightened people do stupid things," she pleaded, rushing over to John Rolfe's side. She curtsied in a humble manner. "Please, sir, I beg you to reconsider!" Then she shuffled over to Pocahontas's side and gently took the young woman's hand. "Princess Pocahontas, I'm sure you understand. Won't you forgive him?"
Pocahontas smiled and put her other hand on the woman's shoulder. "Of course, I will."
"See!" John Rolfe suddenly proclaimed loud enough to get everyone's attention. "You just saw it for yourselves, my friends. Pocahontas forgives without hesitation. Who else do we know of who grants forgiveness so freely? None other than Jesus Christ himself! And here you are, accusing her and her people of heathenism in your hearts, thinking yourselves better, superior. You ought to be ashamed of your hubris! That's right, I said hubris. In your hearts and minds, you compare yourselves to God Almighty, who alone bears the right to pass judgment upon mankind. If a lady such as Pocahontas comports herself in a Christ-like manner and you, the people of Jamestown, are Christian in name only, then take a wild guess as to which of you will be able to pass through those pearly gates. Well, take a guess!" The diplomat shook his head and sneered. "I order you all to church right away! I will go meet with the council right now and then we'll send you out in search of James Read and Thomas West. The other councilors and I must investigate this bizarre turn of events first and foremost," he decreed, waving the crowd off toward the church.
As the crowd dispersed, Alexander Whitaker walked up behind John Rolfe and placed a hand on the stressed gentleman's shoulder, causing him to jump. "Lord Rolfe, forgive me for startling you. I just wanted to say that I agree with everything you said. Sometimes people forget such teachings and it's up to others to remind them of what it really means to be Christian." Then he turned and approached Pocahontas, taking one of her slender hands in both of his. "Princess, I thank you for your courage today. You would make a wonderful addition to our church, should you decide to attend in the future. Now, I must be off. I have a perfect sermon for this occasion."
The preacher left Pocahontas, John Rolfe, and the Quincy family standing there in the snow by themselves. Rebeccah and her mother exchanged glances, shrugged, and then started off toward the church. "Wait!" Rolfe protested. "I need to speak to you. I excuse you from attendance."
Rebeccah turned back, frowning. "But I want to hear the pastor's sermon. It sounds interesting."
John Rolfe's face fell, but then he lightened up and chuckled. "Oh, okay. I suppose we can speak after the sermon," he decided, allowing them to leave. Samuel Quincy followed his wife and daughter. The gentleman turned his attention to Pocahontas as she stared out after her friends with an eager expression. "Is something wrong, love?" he inquired. "Don't you worry about what those men said. I meant what I said. Accusing you of witchcraft, of all people, is idiotic at best."
"No, it's just…" Pocahontas began. "That sermon does sound interesting."
John Rolfe raised both eyebrows. "You want to go to church?"
Pocahontas nodded. "Yes, but… I'm kind of afraid to. What if I find some of those men glaring at me? I wouldn't feel welcome in a place like that," she pointed out, wringing her hands.
John Rolfe frowned. "I see your point. Maybe give it time and the people here might become more accepting. Who knows? If you're afraid to go, I'm sure you can ask Rebeccah about it afterward. Anyway, love, we've got serious business. I need to go rouse the councilors and the governor and I need you to summon your father with a message. I think the wind is mild enough that you can send Flit to Werowocomoco with a message. Perhaps Kekata has recovered by now and might be able to shed some light on this whole bizarre mystery. What say you?"
"Yes, I hope he feels better now. If not, I'm sure my father will bring another shaman to our aid."
John Rolfe sent Pocahontas back to the Quincy residence to write a message for Flit to carry. Rolfe himself knocked on the doors of all the councilors, the majority of whom were still asleep. He called them to a meeting in the town hall and sent Francis Couper ahead to prepare the large drawing room with a fire to keep them warm while they discussed the matter. When the council all arrived, he briefed them on the situation which had happened overnight. Edward Wingfield, in particular, looked distraught. He had only just agreed to take over the colony's affairs and he was already facing his first serious crisis. Not only was the storehouse empty, but he worried that the hungry people of Jamestown would riot or mutiny in response to the fear caused by the unknown beast that had created all the fuss. The settlement was facing a terrible combination of potential starvation and unexplainable events. Once they had wrapped up the discussion, John Rolfe then directed all of them to follow him to the scene of the crime. They started at the constable's office.
John Rolfe was surprised to find no beast tracks leading to the constable's office. It appeared as if the tracks had started there and then proceeded to the storehouse before escaping the fortress entirely by tearing through a section of the wall. The prints themselves appeared to have been created by something bipedal with long claws for toenails and feet exceeding the size of a grown man's by at least four inches. If the creature wanted to take two people and devour all the food in the storehouse, where had it come from to begin with? One of the councilors proposed that it might have flown in somehow, but John Rolfe shook his head, thinking that to be pretty unlikely.
"When church lets out, we're going to send some parties to follow the tracks and search for the missing men," John Rolfe decreed, looking to the interim governor for approval. Wingfield gave him a nod and Rolfe lightly clapped a hand down on the man's shoulder. "It's alright, governor. You have our full support and we won't give up no matter what. Understand?"
Edward Wingfield nodded again. "I appreciate that, Lord Rolfe. But the men are hungry. The only food left in the settlement is whatever people have in their homes. I'm going to have to have the guards go through every house and take the food to be redistributed to pregnant women and children alone. How can we expect hungry men to go on a search into a deep snowy forest? They will be absolutely starved by the time they get back!" the fellow quickly pointed out.
"Not to worry, my good man. I've sent Pocahontas to call upon her people. Surely, they have some food left for themselves and I do not doubt that they will be willing to expend some energy to help us track down the missing men and whatever beast it was that took them," Rolfe said.
Bartholomew Gosnold rubbed his forehead. "I have a headache from hunger. I can't see how we'll be able to deal with this situation without anything to eat. Where will we get the energy?"
"Don't think too much on it, Lord Gosnold. Let's just wait until the Powhatans get here," John Rolfe replied. "We've gotten through very tough situations before. How about we pray together? Would that help put all of your minds at ease?" the young diplomat suggested, clasping hands. The men all nodded, clasping their own hands together too. Rolfe led them in a short prayer for God to send the settlement the basic necessities to help them all get through a trying time. When they were done, the council started to discuss the matters more in-depth until John Rolfe shushed them all, placing a hand to his ear. "Can't you all hear that? It sounds like barking dogs!"
The councilors all rose from their seating in the town hall drawing room and hurriedly put on their coats, rushing outside just as the Powhatans arrived. Glancing around, John Rolfe saw that they had actually gotten in through the broken section of wall. It was fortunate they found a way in since the bottom of the gate was actually frozen solidly in place. Edward Wingfield and the others rushed to greet their visitors. "Chief Powhatan, welcome! Do we ever need your help!"
As Chief Powhatan dismounted his dogsled, he shot a glance at the broken section of the fort where he and his warriors had entered. "Yes, I can see that. What has happened here?"
"I'll let John Rolfe explain. He was the first of us to see anything," Wingfield replied, stepping aside for the young English diplomat to take his place before the paramount chief.
"It seems some manner of violent beast broke into the settlement last night. It was too windy for anyone to hear anything, but two men are missing and the creature also ate every last scrap of food that was in the storehouse. In fact, it appeared to have been so strong that it tore through the buildings and the fortress wall there. Do you have any idea what kind of animal could have done such a thing? The tracks and damage indicate whatever it was had long claws and walked on two feet. However, we could not find where the animal entered the settlement in the first place. It seems to have magically appeared at the constable's office," John Rolfe expressed, stumped.
Just as the Englishman finished his explanation, Pocahontas caught up with them. "Father!" she declared, rushing past John Rolfe. She embraced the chief. "Thank you for coming so quickly."
Chief Powhatan returned Pocahontas's affection and then glanced over his shoulder, making a beckoning gesture. Kekata stepped forward, clapping a hand to his chest as he cleared his throat. "Greetings, Pocahontas," he croaked. "I apologize for being unable to come sooner."
"Kekata!" Pocahontas said happily. "Don't worry about it. I'm glad to see that you're recovering. We've got a serious situation on our hands here." Then she whispered in Powhatan, "And I am afraid it might be of a supernatural nature. The settlers are all very frightened."
"What was that?" Edward Wingfield spoke, having missed the last part.
Pocahontas shook her head. "Nothing important."
Kekata nodded. "Yes, I hope this 'beast' that attacked Jamestown is not what I fear it might be."
"And what do you fear it might be?" John Rolfe inquired, raising a brow in curiosity.
Kekata shook his head. "First, show us all the damage. I must examine the evidence before I can draw any conclusions," he decreed. "I would not want to stir any fears unnecessarily."
John Rolfe looked hesitant, but he bobbed his head in agreement. "Yes, sir." The diplomat and other councilors brought the Powhatans to the original scene of the crime, the constable's office. Kekata and his assistants took their time assessing every last crook and crevice of the damaged building. The shaman sent some of the warriors to investigate the rest of the fortress and all the areas between the houses for any additional evidence. Meanwhile, Kekata lowered himself to his knees in the snow beside the creature's tracks, bending down to scrutinize them. He used his hand to measure the size and width of the prints as well as the length of the creature's toes and claws. The shaman followed the tracks to the storehouse, repeating the same routine with that building as he had done with the constable's office. He examined everything from top to bottom.
As Kekata was preparing to deliver his highly-anticipated assessment, John Rolfe realized he was sweating inside his coat. His eyes popped open in a moment of realization and he peered up at the sky. The sun had crested the canopy about an hour before and the temperature of the air had risen to above freezing for the first time since the freezing cold winter had begun. "It's rather warm, don't you think?" he noted to Pocahontas as he unbuttoned his winter coat, relishing the feel of the cool air on his overheated chest. "Wow, I don't think spring is so far off after all."
"You're right," Pocahontas happily declared, unbuttoning her own coat. "Oh, I can't wait to see the first flowers of spring! I'm going to be so happy. Ooh, John! Once the fish run starts, I want to take you out to the northern woods to collect maple sap. Cold winters always mean enormous amounts of delicious maple syrup! See? Everything has a silver lining, doesn't it?" she giggled.
John Rolfe felt his stomach rumble at the mere suggestion. "Oh, yes, I'd like that very much."
The councilors were all standing around in a circle as Kekata cleared his throat. "My friends, I believe I have an idea of what kind of creature may have been responsible. It seems an incredibly far-fetched theory, but, unfortunately, it is the only theory I have," he declared to the small crowd of Jamestown councilors and Powhatans. Everyone turned their heads as the church service started to let out. People flooded out into the open air, chattering amongst themselves. Kekata turned back to the councilors. "Let us go to your communal house to discuss this matter alone. Afterward, we send out search parties. However, I caution you not to get your hopes up. If the creature is indeed what I suspect it is, it is likely that the missing soldier is dead. Come, let's go."
The councilors nodded and followed the Powhatans to the town hall, all filing inside as Francis Couper held open the door for them. In the drawing room, Kekata stood before the lit hearth with a solemn look on his face. Every white man in the small crowd swallowed a lump in his throat, afraid to hear the news. "Alright, sir," John Rolfe declared. "Please, what kind of animal did it?"
The shaman shook his head. "There is no earthly animal in these lands capable of doing the kind of damage that has been done to your settlement. The creature I am about to tell you of was once thought to be nothing more than a myth intended to frighten ill-behaved children. However, the evidence that I've seen here today and heard tell of suggests otherwise. I can't tell you the whole story right now because we need to hurry and send out search parties, but I can tell you this. The chenawq is a creature of supernatural ability. It cannot be killed with arrows nor with spears. As for your fire-sticks, I do not know what damage they are capable of doing to such a monster. If we track down this creature and meet it face-to-face, it is likely that no witnesses will survive…"
"Drivel!" Edward Morish, the Jamestown marshal, cried. "Such things are but superstition!"
John Rolfe drew his brows together in anger at the marshal's rude interruption. "Well, if you've any better ideas, marshal, please do enlighten us. If not, I expect you to remain silent and listen to what this wise man has to say with an open mind. If you cannot do that, then leave."
The marshal rounded on John Rolfe and pointed a finger in his face. "It seems to me this is all a scheme by our so-called 'friends' to drive us off the land! If these people think they can tell us horror stories and frighten us into leaving, they better think again! We're men, not children!"
Edward Wingfield's face turned red. "Marshal, get out! That's an order!" he shouted. Morish huffed, spun on a heel, and marched out of the room in anger. Wingfield rubbed his forehead and turned to Powhatan and Kekata. "Please, accept my apology and disregard his words. I am sure you know how frightened people can easily forget their manners and behave with hostility. That is what we are afraid might happen to the masses here. God forbid we end up with mass panic on our hands. The results would be very ugly, I guarantee," Wingfield expressed worriedly.
"I am told that Morish has always been brash," John Rolfe added. "Please, Kekata, continue. So you think this 'chenawq' thing is what took Baron Thomas West and James Read?"
Kekata shook his head. "No, I believe Baron West is the chenawq."
"What?!" all the councilors, including John Rolfe, cried in unison.
"I don't understand!" John Rolfe exclaimed. "How can a man just turn into a monster? Is West possessed by a demon of some kind?" he rapidly interrogated, pondering back on earlier events.
Kekata raised a brow. "If by 'demon' you mean evil spirit, then yes. The legends indicate that when a man commits the sins of selfishness, gluttony, or cannibalism, he may unknowingly make himself vulnerable to possession by powerful evil spirits. The sins must be extreme, such as withholding food from starving children or eating the flesh of one's enemies. Simply making a pig out of oneself at every village feast is not enough. The guilty person is then transformed into a chenawq as punishment for his or her crimes. The heart of a chenawq is made of the coldest ice, thus rendering them invulnerable to the cold. Heat is believed to be one of their very few weaknesses. That is why I wonder if your fire-sticks might be able to harm the beast, especially your giant fire-sticks that are too heavy for any one man to lift," the shaman explained.
"You mean our cannons?" John Rolfe asked, receiving a nod. "We have some that are more portable than others, the small ones. If heat or fire can harm the beast, maybe we can find a way to spray something flammable like alcohol on it and light it on fire," he conjectured.
"That's a good idea, John," Pocahontas remarked, pleasantly surprised.
"If these beasts truly do exist, then our ancient ancestors lived in abject fear of them. Especially in the time when the land was far colder than it is today, the age of ice. That has to be the time that our legends originated from. It was when the great wooly beasts still walked the land. Of course, I was not there so I do not know all of these things for certain," Kekata indicated.
"Alright, alright," Edward Wingfield announced. "As much as I want to know more, I hear the crowd outside getting restless. They want to start the search. We have a problem though. We are out of food. The only sustenance left in the settlement, if there is any at all, is in people's homes. I know if we send men out on a search, they're going to be absolutely famished by the time they get back. As of right now, they're already hungry to begin with. What are we to do?"
Chief Powhatan had a thoughtful look on his face as he rubbed his chin. "We may be able to kill two bucks with one arrow if I'm remembering what my lead warrior told me this morning correctly. Naganwaya, didn't you mention something about coming upon a large herd of deer in the northern woods a day or two ago when you were hunting by yourself?" he asked.
Naganwaya's eyes seemed to pop open in alarm. He replied in Powhatan, "Uh, yes, Great Powhatan, but we'll need them for ourselves. Our corn supply is almost empty."
"What I think is that we can easily share," Powhatan said in reply, "since the men of Jamestown could be of great use to us in catching them. If we work together with both bows and fire-sticks, we can kill a lot more of the beasts than if we just send our warriors after them."
"Not if we drive them off of a cliff," Naganwaya pointed out.
Powhatan shook his head and switched back to English. "You saw them in the lowlands. Driving them to a cliff could break up the herd and kill does and fawns. This winter has been hard enough on the deer. We won't have much venison next year if we wipe them out. If we surround the herd on all sides, the males will come forward to protect the females and little ones and we will shoot the antlered ones only. We might be able to get almost all of them. Just one male is needed to impregnate many females, whereas many females are needed to repopulate. Despite these being hard times, we must remain good stewards of the land or it will cost us in the future. Do not forget the tales of what became of the great wooly beasts because our ancestors were too naive to have these discretions. Their thoughtless deeds left us to survive on much smaller prey."
Naganwaya's face fell. Since rations were tight in Werowocomoco, he disliked the idea of splitting the bounty with the hundreds of Jamestown settlers, but the paramount chief had made an excellent point. He sighed and said, "Yes, wise chief. I suppose that you are right."
"So we're going hunting?" John Rolfe remarked. "It sounds like a decent plan."
"Yes," Chief Powhatan replied. "Come, let's go see the rest of the settlers so we can put together a series of hunting and search parties. I've already got a great strategy in mind."
…
It took about an hour to get everything organized. Three parties made up of ten heavily-armed settlers and three warrior guides each would pursue the chenawq's tracks into the northwestern wilderness where they appeared to lead. Four such parties, each settler with his own firearm and each warrior with his own bow, would travel northeast toward the lowlands where Naganwaya had last spotted the herd of deer. They took enough supplies on their dogsleds to set up camp in the wilderness should the need arise. Once everyone was ready to go, John Rolfe approached Chief Powhatan and Edward Wingfield. The two leaders were busy discussing plans as well as negotiating how to equitably split the bounty between the Powhatans and settlers after the hunt. "Chief Powhatan, which of the two groups do you think I should go with?" Rolfe inquired.
"You're not going anywhere," interjected the governor. "John Rolfe, you are too well-liked by the townspeople and too good at calming their nerves for me to want you to risk your life in the wilderness with us. I'm going to need you to stay here and take charge of the colony in my place until I return. I'm going with Hunting Party #1 since I've been told I'm a very good shot."
John Rolfe jerked back in shock. "M-me? You're putting me in charge? Sir, I don't know. That's a lot of responsibility and I'm not sure if…" the English diplomat immediately began to protest.
Edward Wingfield put up a hand to silence the younger man. "It is only until I return. Don't be so nervous. I'm sure you'll be a natural at this. Besides, you're a great public speaker. Just try to keep a mass hysteria or mutiny from happening while I'm away. If anyone can do that, it's you."
Pocahontas came up behind the British gentleman and put her hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, John. I'll be here to help you if there is a problem with the townspeople," she said reassuringly.
John Rolfe's eyes widened. Then he abruptly drew his brows together and took her hand off of his shoulder, turning to face her with a stern expression. "No, you aren't. After what happened this morning, I'm sending you back to Werowocomoco with your father for your own safety. I can't guard you 24/7 and the townspeople are behaving in an unpredictable manner right now."
Pocahontas frowned. "What? But John!"
"No buts!" he decreed.
Hearing this, Powhatan knitted his brows. "What happened this morning that you speak of?"
"Father, it was nothing. It…"
"It was not nothing!" John Rolfe retorted. "A few men accused Pocahontas of being the one responsible for what's happened with Thomas West. They accused her of witchcraft. In England, witchcraft is a crime punishable by death. A man even tried to hurt her," he explained.
"What?!" Powhatan roared. He took her by the wrist. "Daughter, you are coming with me."
Pocahontas immediately protested, "But Father!"
"It's decided. If this man says you might be in danger, I trust his judgment. Come," he said.
Pocahontas pouted but followed her father to his dogsled nonetheless. She peered back over her shoulder and shot John Rolfe a petulant look, not happy about being told what to do by a couple of men. Rolfe glanced away and whistled, pretending not to notice. As they rode away on their dogsled, the diplomat peered back in their direction and smiled. He was not looking forward to Pocahontas getting mad at him later, but at least he knew she would be safe for now.
Once Powhatan, Kekata, and the search and hunting parties had all departed, John Rolfe found himself surrounded by a crowd of frightened men, women, and children. The questions soon came pouring in from all sides and no one seemed interested in giving him time to answer.
"Lord Rolfe, what did they say happened to James Read?"
"Lord Rolfe, is the beast going to come back?"
"Please, Lord Rolfe, my wife and I are hungry and we're out of food!"
"I can't make milk for my baby without food, Lord Rolfe!"
"Can we slaughter a horse, Lord Rolfe? It's all we've got!"
"Please, Lord Rolfe, are you sure there isn't an emergency supply anywhere?"
"My boy child is hungry! He hasn't eaten since yesterday!"
It was only noon and a great headache was already making John Rolfe feel like his brain was trying to break through his skull. Hungry, miserable, and yet unwillingly the center of attention, he could scarcely think of answers to all the questions even if the people had given him time to say them. "Everyone, everyone! Please be calm!" Rolfe decreed, holding up his hands. The crowd fell silent, which rather surprised him. Then he cleared his throat. "You may not like this, but I've got no choice in the matter. You are all ordered to unlock your doors to allow for inspection. The guards will take whatever food remains in the settlement and distribute it to the neediest. Growing children cannot survive long without food, so they are the top priority!"
There were both shouts of protest as well as shouted thank yous, which appeared to come from the mothers of hungry children. "I'm sorry, but grown men and women who are neither pregnant nor nursing aren't allowed to eat until the hunting parties return with food. First, you are all to go home and unlock your doors. Then you are to proceed to the church where we will pray together for God to relieve our hunger pangs. Our hopes all rest with the Almighty. Now, go!"
…
MARCH 20, 1614
While the weather had remained mild, it had gotten cold again. The settlement still had not heard back from the hunting parties, though the search parties had returned with a disturbing discovery. They had followed the beast's tracks far north before giving up. Upon the return trip, a man just happened to catch a glance of something lying atop the snow that no one had noticed before: a human pointer finger. The color suggested that it had belonged to a man of European descent.
When they had returned and presented the discovery to Sylvia Read, she had screamed at the top of her lungs louder than John Rolfe had heard in some time. Apparently, a birthmark near the cuticle of the fingernail was enough evidence to confirm that the extremity belonged to none other than Mrs. Read's now-late husband, James Read. A funeral was planned for him, which was to take place when the hunting parties returned. The only pre-built coffins available were sized for infants and nobody had the strength or energy to build an adult-sized one. Without any better options, James Read's finger ended up getting stored for burial in a baby-sized coffin.
John Rolfe was starting to feel the anxiety that the interim governor had been feeling for some time. The days-long famine had severely worn everyone down, especially the members of the search parties who had come home famished. What remained of the food that had been collected from the homes of the townspeople was being stored under lock and key in the town hall cellar. Once a day, mothers would come to prepare food for all the children in the town hall kitchen. Children and women with child would, in turn, eat their meager meals in the drawing room to ensure that the remaining food went only to those who needed it most. John Rolfe knew it would only be a matter of time before the people would start to riot. A great deal of discontentment was being sown around the settlement, spreading rapidly like the pox or the bubonic plague.
The weather had just turned icy again midday while everyone was at church praying for relief to come from God. When they finally got out of church hours later, the wind chilled everyone to the bone. They quickly returned to their homes to rest and reserve their energy. It was past dark on the 20th of March and John Rolfe was in the town hall office, fighting his hunger pangs to see to the care of the colony. The man in charge always had a great deal of paperwork to take care of. It included all the financials for the colony, especially taxes to be collected for the king.
Tax collection was always reviled by the populace, but it was a matter that could not be ignored lest there be serious consequences. Furthermore, John Rolfe had had to take over directly from Edward Wingfield, who was not a man well-known for his lovely penmanship. Some of his numbers were hard or impossible to read, so the Englishman felt obligated to return to the houses of the subjects involved to question them about their expenses and income all over again.
It was the biggest pain of John Rolfe's adult life and he hated having to do it. No wonder Edward Wingfield had been so distressed lately, the English diplomat thought. Previously, Rolfe had had absolutely no idea how hard it really was to be the governor of a colony, even a small one like Jamestown. But, if he was honest with himself, the diplomat had to admit he would probably be feeling even worse physically-speaking if he had gone on the hunting expedition instead. Perhaps his brain had to do a ton of work, but at least his body was able to rest in the meantime.
Finally, when John Rolfe thought he could take no more of the hunger and the headaches, he growled loudly to himself and collapsed on the desktop. He kept bumping his head repeatedly against the oak until Francis Couper entered the room. "Would you like a cup of tea, sir?"
"Yus," John Rolfe mumbled miserably into the wood.
Francis Couper patted him on the shoulder, which surprised him. John Rolfe peered up at the man, his auburn hair a complete mess. "Try not to worry, sir. I'm sure the hunting parties will return soon and Governor Wingfield along with them. Taxes aren't due until the ship comes in, after all," Mr. Couper said. His last sentence was perfectly punctuated by a massive boom.
