The Adventures of Pocahontas and John Rolfe: Book I
Chapter 20: The Old Codger and the Young Stud
NOVEMBER 3, 1613
Pocahontas, John Rolfe, Meeko, Percy, and Flit traveled northeast for three days before they ran into another river system. Fortunately, their water supply had lasted long enough. They refilled all their skins when they reached the waterway. They had traveled through forests and meadows as well as over wooded hills and bluffs. Now, they once again built a small watercraft to keep their supplies dry as they crossed the river. They followed the river on the northern side for two days until it began to dip south into Duchi territory.
NOVEMBER 5, 1613
Not knowing how long it would be until they came upon freshwater again, they filled up all of their skins and headed northeast using the sun as their guide. To their great delight, they came upon numerous streams and tributaries that fed into the river as they traveled. The forests grew dense and then sparse again, dense and then sparse.
NOVEMBER 6, 1613
After another day, they had run out of bear meat. Now, all the food they had left was powdered corn, nuts, dried fruits, and dried meats and fish—the original supplies they had started out with at the beginning of the journey. Siwili's hunting had assisted them in preserving their critical food supply but now they would have to rely on it.
Wanting their food reserve to last as long as possible, Pocahontas had taken up the practice of hunting with Siwili's bow. It was awkward to use since Siwili was taller than her but she was still able to shoot moderately well with it. She became conscientious about not losing arrows after she had shot at a hare in tall grasses. It had taken her and John Rolfe thirty minutes to find the lost arrow. Sometime after that, they had come upon a sounder of wild boar in the forest. Rolfe did not take kindly to the sheer size of their tusks and he asked Pocahontas to hunt them from the trees if she was going to hunt them at all. It was pointless to risk a serious injury on the ground. Pocahontas had found an enormous tree growing out of the side of a six foot bluff near a stream. The trunk was severely bent over, nearly parallel to the ground over which the feral hogs roamed.
Pocahontas camouflaged herself before climbing the tree stealthily. At least fifteen hogs foraged in the dirt below her, including one big boar and two or three sows with piglets. The Powhatan woman got in position to aim her arrow directly at the large male. Just as she was getting ready to shoot, however, the boar froze as if it sensed something. Not wanting to miss the opportunity, Pocahontas unleashed her arrow. The boar flinched out of the way and the arrow hit an oversized piglet instead right smack between the eyes.
Pocahontas gasped as the piglet fell dead, its mother and siblings gathering around it. They nudged the little pig with their noses, trying to revive it. "John!" Pocahontas cried, tears welling in her eyes. The sounder fled, leaving the dead baby behind.
John Rolfe had been setting up camp nearby. He came running when he heard her call of distress and stood at the edge of the bluff. "Pocahontas, where are you?" he called out.
The devastated huntress hopped down from the tree and stood by the dead piglet. "John, I killed a baby! I didn't mean to kill it!" she blared, immediately bursting into tears.
John Rolfe raised a brow and slid down the bluff to meet her. He glanced at the piglet. "Looks like it should make a nice meal. Why are you so upset, love?" he inquired. She appeared to be shaking, so he pulled her into a warm embrace. "It's okay, Pocahontas."
"It's not okay! I killed a baby!" she sobbed. "I'm a baby-killer."
John Rolfe sighed. "Pocahontas, it's not a child, it's an animal. I can't claim to have never eaten baby animals before. Roast piglet is considered a delicacy in England. Veal and lamb too. You should be proud of yourself that you actually caught something. We must eat to survive and this is your first successful hunt with a bow," he remarked, rubbing her lower back in circles. Meeko and Percy ran to the edge of the bluff, sniffing the air. When Percy saw the dead piglet, he licked his lips and yipped happily. "Looks like we're having ham tonight, boys!" Rolfe announced, pulling back from Pocahontas. He picked the piglet up from the ground by the shaft of the arrow embedded in its skull.
Pocahontas sniffled and rubbed her eyes. She was not sure what to make of the situation. Though John Rolfe had given her a different perspective, she still had lingering guilt associated with her first bow hunt. Now she knew for sure that she preferred the bow as a hobby. But hunting would be a necessity in their predicament. "I was aiming at a big boar but he jumped out of the way and my arrow hit the piglet instead," she whimpered sadly as John Rolfe gently ushered her back to camp, rubbing her back soothingly.
John Rolfe was looking forward to the meal. Suckling pig was so tender and flavorful. Plus, the animal was fattened for the winter. He could hardly wait to start roasting it over the fire. The Englishman heard a sigh come from Pocahontas as they walked back to camp. Suddenly she reached over and took the piglet from him. "Love?"
"Let me clean the carcass here. We don't want entrails hanging around camp. It might attract bears," Pocahontas expressed, taking out one of the obsidian knives Awenasa had given her. She crouched and laid the carcass on its back, preparing to slice into the skin.
"Alright, I'll go make sure the fire is ready," John Rolfe replied, running his fingers through her hair. He turned and left. Meeko, Percy, and Flit followed him back to camp. When they got there, Rolfe stopped in front of the fire and sighed. Percy glanced up at him and whimpered, wondering what was the matter. Rolfe noticed the pug's concerned gaze. "I feel bad that Pocahontas has to clean the carcass all by herself after she did the hunt. Technically, I'm supposed to be the one doing both of those things. It's just that I get the heebie-jeebies whenever I see entrails and I feel sick." He breathed in deeply as if trying to avoid nausea at the mere thought. Then he steeled himself as a decisive look overcame his features. "I'll just have to get over it. Percy," Rolfe declared, "next time there's a kill, I'm going to be the one to clean the carcass. Don't let me forget!" Percy gave Rolfe a staunch nod. The Englishman puffed out his chest and plopped down by the fire, throwing more sticks into the flames. He poked the fire to make it burn hotter.
Pocahontas arrived fifteen minutes later with a striped pelt, a clean carcass, and a severed head with the arrow poking out. "I'm not strong enough to pull that out but I need to get my arrow back somehow," she said, having recovered from her first-hunt trauma. She sat beside John Rolfe and laid a few green sticks over the fire to create a platform.
John Rolfe picked up the head by the arrow's shaft and rubbed his chin with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Hm," he uttered. "Well, we don't want to damage the arrow." He placed the pig's head down on a flat rock and used another rock to smash the skull until he could easily pluck the arrow out, handing it back to Pocahontas. "There you are, love."
"Thank you!" She rinsed the arrow off and stuck it back in the quiver. Then she set the bow and quiver aside. Turning her attention back to the piglet, she butterflied the carcass and stretched it wide open. The Powhatan princess laid it over the frame to cook, placing a heavy flat stone on top. Meeko cooed and started sniffing at the meat. "It's not ready yet, Meeko," she informed the raccoon, gently shooing him away from the fire.
"Pocahontas," John Rolfe uttered.
She glanced over at him. "Yes?"
John Rolfe cleared his throat before speaking his mind. "I've been thinking. Technically, I'm the one who's supposed to do the hunting. Siwili did teach me a few things about tracking. I can tell you don't enjoy all that. So I thought it would be a good idea for you to show me the basics of archery tonight after dinner. I know it's one of those things that will take a while to master but I have got to start sometime," he proposed, wringing his hands a bit. For some reason, the request made him nervous. Perhaps he feared he would look stupid and clumsy trying to wield a bow and Pocahontas might laugh at him.
Pocahontas's eyes brightened. "That's a good idea. Siwili's bow is too long for me. It would be just right for you though since you and Siwili were pretty similar in height," she remarked as the meat started to sizzle. She poked the burning bits of charcoal.
A sweet meaty aroma permeated the air and John Rolfe's mouth watered. He glanced over as Pocahontas laid the pelt fur side down across a broad stone and used a flint knife to scrape the excess meat and fat off of the underside. "What are you going to do with that?" Rolfe inquired curiously, leaning over to observe her. "The pattern is lovely."
"I'm going to flesh and dry it. When we get home, I think I'll tan it," Pocahontas decided as she went about her work. When she finished with the pelt, it was time to flip the piglet over to roast on the other side. Pocahontas used two sticks to perform the task and then laid two stones on each side to keep the 'wings' down flat against the heat source.
John Rolfe reached over and picked up the pelt, feeling the fur side. "It's so soft. Adult hog hair is coarse. Imagine collecting a bunch of these. You could sew them together to make a luxurious blanket or coat," he mused. He put the pelt on the stone again to dry.
"You would have to be the collector then because I do not intend to kill any more baby pigs," Pocahontas replied, a slight grin gracing her features. "There are lots of wild boars at home. If you catch and tan the furs, I'll sew them together for you."
John Rolfe bounced up and down excitedly like an overactive toddler. "It's a plan!"
Pocahontas snorted. After another twenty minutes, she pulled a ceramic container of wild honey out of her rucksack. "It's time to glaze the meat," she revealed with a clever grin. She used a broad green leaf to coat the underside with honey and flipped it over, coating the topside as well. "Should be done in a few more minutes." Percy was drooling at the smell of it. Rolfe and Meeko could hardly wait for the meat to be ready to consume.
…
Less than two miles away, an old man on a young stallion detected the unmistakable scent of roast honey-glazed suckling pig. Using his nose as a guide, he took out his blunderbuss and spurred his horse to a gallop. The source of the aroma could not be far. He raced through the forest for a long way, leaping over a ravine. Though his eyesight was poor, he detected a tiny dot of firelight in the midst of the black forest ahead.
The old man burst onto the isolated campsite, rearing his horse high in the air in an act of intimidation. A young woman squealed in startlement. Both she and her male companion jumped to their feet and cowered away from him in each other's arms. A raccoon, pug dog, and hummingbird took shelter behind them, though the old man paid no heed to the animals. "¿Qué tenemos aquí?" declared the elderly Spaniard. He examined the two of them. They were an odd pair, a white-skinned man and a brown-skinned woman. He was not sure what to make of them at first. Judging from the way they held onto each other, it soon became apparent they were a couple. The Spaniard narrowed his eyes at the male, wondering if he was English. "¡Me llamo Juanito Ponce de León, hijo de Juan Ponce de León! ¿Quién es usted?" he loudly declared, pointing his blunderbuss at them.
John Rolfe pulled Pocahontas behind him and knitted his brows at the strange man in anger. He was fluent in Spanish as well as French and wasted no time in replying. "I am John Rolfe," he said in Spanish. "I don't mean to sound rude but I don't particularly care who your father is. Might I ask why you're threatening my lovely companion and I with a firearm?" he inquired, narrowing his eyes at the blunderbuss in the stranger's grip. "That is no way to make friends, good fellow. What it is that you want?" he asked.
Juanito pointed his blunderbuss at the roasting piglet. "I'm a lost explorer searching for my brother Poncito de León. My men abandoned me months ago and I have since run out of food. I suppose you can guess what my intention is from that tidbit of information," he wickedly expressed. His horse whinnied. "Quiet, Ciceron! Papa is speaking. We'll get us a drink at the next river we come across," he spoke, gently stroking the stallion.
John Rolfe made a cuckoo gesture to Pocahontas. "This man is nuts," he whispered.
"John, did he just say 'Poncito de León'?" Pocahontas inquired, her interest piqued.
John Rolfe nodded. "He says he's looking for his brother who goes by that name. Why?"
"I know a Spaniard called Poncito de León. He's married to an elder woman back home, Ugwumpah," Pocahontas divulged. "He stumbled upon our lands a week or two after John Smith left. He claimed he was searching for the so-called 'Fountain of Youth.' In fact, Poncito had a gun which looked just like the one this man is carrying."
John Rolfe was taken aback. "Seriously?!" he blurted. Pocahontas nodded. The diplomat raised his brows, uttering, "Small world." Rolfe looked like he had been thrown for a loop as he turned his gaze back to Juanito. "Señor, my companion tells me that she knows your brother Poncito. She says that he is married to a woman from her tribe."
The Spaniard jolted at the unexpected claim. Then his face fell to a look of suspicion, even anger, as he brandished his rifle in the air. "Nonsense! Drivel! My brother is a dedicated explorer and bachelor. He would never settle down! English lies! Rubbish!"
John Rolfe placed his hands on his hips. "Well, Pocahontas says he did. Perhaps your assumptions about him are wrong. When is the last time you saw him if I might ask?"
"It's been a decade since… we had a falling out," Juanito admitted. "But I can't imagine him married. He would never… But just in case I am wrong, where is this alleged tribe that he is supposedly living with?" he inquired, narrowing his eyes at John Rolfe.
A smile bloomed on Rolfe's face. "It's where Pocahontas and I are headed! It's pretty far off. We suspect it'll take us at least a month to get there on foot. You're welcome to join our quest. You see, we were on a supply ship that was attacked by pirates and…"
"Blah, blah, blah, muchacho!" exclaimed Juanito. "I have no time or desire to listen to your humdrum life story," he snapped, making John Rolfe frown. "All you need do is point me in the direction of said tribe and hand over that scrumptious suckling pig you've got roasting there," he retorted, his mouth visibly watering at the porcine delicacy.
John Rolfe's eyes widened. "That's our dinner! We're the ones who caught it, therefore it's rightfully ours! What kind of foul scum are you to rob a couple of hapless travelers?"
Pocahontas started to get nervous. "John, what is he saying? What does he want?"
John Rolfe tossed a frown backward. "He wants to steal our dinner," Rolfe expressed, pointing to the piglet. It was just about ready to eat and Rolfe was absolutely starved.
Pocahontas knitted her brows. "Well, you tell him I'll tell his brother he's a no-good dirty thief if he does that!" she snapped, sending a glare over Rolfe's shoulder.
John Rolfe made the translation but Juanito only laughed. "Like my brother would listen to an Indian woman!" he shot back in a mocking manner. "He is no fool."
The Englishman drew his brows together. "Well, he's married to one! You don't think he listens to his own wife?" John Rolfe snapped, crossing his arms in irritation.
"John," Pocahontas whispered, "why don't you try inviting him to dinner? Maybe he'll become more friendly then. We could all three head north to my homeland together."
"I tried inviting him to travel with us but he wasn't interested," John Rolfe returned.
The Spaniard dismounted his stallion and kept his blunderbuss pointed in their direction as he approached the campfire. "I'm taking this suckling pig and there's nothing you can do about it!" he ordained, reaching for the tasty carcass. He stopped and saw the travel packs leaning against a nearby ash tree. "Have you other food as well?" he interrogated.
"We…" John Rolfe began, only to be interrupted when Flit went on the offensive.
Flit did not take kindly to Juanito's threat to rob his friends. He squawked angrily and flew out from behind John Rolfe, darting straight at Juanito Ponce de León. The tiny hummingbird flew circles around the old man's head, pelting him with merciless peck after peck to the face. Juanito cried out, jumping around and flailing wildly as he tried to ward off the pest. He lost his grip on the blunderbuss and it fell right into the campfire below. Flit was highly encouraged. "¡Caramba! The hornets around here are enormous! Get away from me, you overgrown bumblebee!" he cried out in Spanish.
John Rolfe snatched the blunderbuss out of the fire, holding it in front of him diagonally. He pointed the muzzle at the ground. "You can stop now, Flit," Rolfe announced.
When the Spaniard realized Rolfe had his gun, he shoved his hands up in the air. "Surely, you wouldn't shoot a poor old man," he uttered, sweat beading on his forehead.
John Rolfe shook his head. "I wouldn't shoot anyone if I could help it." He pointed the gun up into the air and squeezed the trigger, only to find that it was not even loaded.
"Ha!" Juanito cried. "You young fool! Don't you know they don't make ammunition for the blunderbuss anymore?" he mocked as if he had gotten the better of the Englishman.
John Rolfe returned a grin. "Perfect. I was making sure it was unloaded so I could do this," he said as he held the gun up in the air. He brought it crashing down over a sharp stone, breaking the muzzle in half. Then he tossed both pieces aside and swiped his hands back and forth against each other. "There! All done. Now, unless you wish to be civil and join Pocahontas and me for supper, do go and run along, you silly old man!" he decreed.
Juanito's face turned crimson in fury. "That was my father's, you insufferable whelp!" he shouted as he pulled out a foot-long pistol. "This one actually is loaded. Now tell me where to find the tribe my brother resides in. And you'd better not lie! I can smell a lie from ten miles off, muchacho!" he charged, pointing the pistol right at John Rolfe's head.
Flit was about to charge again but John Rolfe put up a hand to block his path. "No, Flit. We don't want to risk making him accidentally pull the trigger. Just stay back and let me handle this," he indicated, turning his attention back to the Spaniard. "Señor, you needn't threaten us for that information. We'd be happy to share. Have you heard of Jamestown?"
"Sí, I have heard of it. I know where it is but, as I told you before, I am lost so I do not know where I am right now," Juanito explained, brandishing his pistol in frustration. "Hence, I don't know where your settlement is from my current location. Do you?"
"You need to travel northeast back to the coast and follow the coast north to Virginia," John Rolfe said shortly. "Those are the best directions I've got, I'm afraid. Pocahontas and I are having to play this journey by ear since we haven't got a map and we don't know where we are either. At least you've got a horse so you should get there faster."
Juanito raised a brow. "But you said my brother lived with a tribe, not in Jamestown."
John Rolfe glanced back at Pocahontas. "Does Poncito reside in your village, love? Our guest wants to know his brother's precise location," he inquired over his shoulder.
Pocahontas shook her head. "He used to live in my village but half a day's canoe ride upriver last year. Ugwumpah had more family there. It's called Sednecomoco."
John Rolfe nodded and turned back to the Spaniard. "There's a village a few miles north of Jamestown called Werowocomoco. If you go there, you can ask for directions to an upriver village called Sednecomoco. Shouldn't be more than half a day's travel by boat. That's where you'll find your brother and sister-in-law," the Englishman finished. "Now, is that all you wanted or are you finally going to gallivant off and leave us in peace?"
Keeping eye contact, Juanito drew a rapier from the scabbard tied to his horse's saddle. He skewered the roasting piglet. "This is the only other thing I wanted," he returned with a cackle, sheathing the pistol. He mounted the stallion's back, hoisting the impaled piglet high as he reared his horse. "¡Gracias, amigos! I ride like the wind! ¡Vamos, Ciceron!" The old man spurred the horse into a gallop and they darted off through the woods.
"Hey!" John Rolfe bellowed, immediately giving chase to the old Spaniard. "That's our dinner! Come back here, you scoundrel!" he howled at the top of his lungs. Meeko and Percy ran after Rolfe. Pocahontas called out to Rolfe as he disappeared into the trees but he did not hear her. He raced after the heavy hoof clops even as they disappeared into the distance. Rolfe came to a sudden halt when he heard a shriek and then a loud whinny. He could hear the echoing clops returning in his direction. The horse and its terrified rider charged toward him at full speed. Rolfe barely managed to roll out of the way in time to avoid a trampling. "¡Oso enojado! ¡Corran por sus vidas!" Juanito announced.
John Rolfe gasped and glanced up in time to hear the angry roar. He yelped and jumped to his feet, taking off after the Spaniard as the big black bear emerged from the brush running at top speed. Suddenly, it was after him. Rolfe called out ahead of him, "Drop the suckling pig, you fool! That's what it wants! Drop the bloody pig and it'll leave us be!"
"Never, muchacho!" John Rolfe spied the old man up ahead through the trees as he raced away from the scene. Curious to know how far behind the bear was, Juanito dared to peer backward just once. He did not see the low tree limb that knocked him clean off his horse and sent him crashing to the ground. The fall knocked his breath out and he heaved for air as he tried to push himself up from the dirt. The pig-wielding rapier had been knocked out of his hands completely and lay on the ground four feet behind.
"You old fool!" John Rolfe howled as he caught up. The younger man did a dive-roll, snatching up the hilt of the rapier. He lurched to his feet and turned back, facing the beast as it came to a stop. It reared up on its hind legs with a furious roar. "Get out your pistol, señor! It's the only reliable defense we've got!" Rolfe cried, sure the bear would charge.
The Spaniard had barely managed to fill his lungs. He leaned against a tree, using its support to rise to his feet. "¡Qué lástima! I lied when I said the pistol was loaded. I ran out of bullets long ago! That's why I was so hungry, I couldn't hunt!" Juanito retorted, stumbling back as the bear stood to its full height. He cowered behind Rolfe.
The frightened Englishman stumbled back, nearly tripping over the old man. "You liar! This could be the death of us and it's all your fault!" The bear plucked the roast piglet off the end of the sword with its teeth and ran off like nothing had ever happened, vanishing into the dark forest. The diplomat breathed a huge sigh of relief and then turned the rapier on the troublemaker responsible for the fiasco instead. "You," he hissed at Juanito.
…
Pocahontas was back at the campsite with Flit packing up their supplies. She had no idea where John Rolfe had run off to but she had to find him. Great Spirit forbid he should get lost in the dark forest. Fortunately, he found her first. He returned to the scene dragging a wrist-bound Spaniard behind him. She gasped. "Where's the pig?" she inquired, finally starting to feel the hunger pangs that Rolfe had been feeling for a few hours.
"Thanks to this old Spanish buffoon, a great big bear ran off with it! I was so looking forward to that dinner too. We'll have to eat bland corn porridge and chewy dried meat for dinner tonight now. We would have feasted like royalty on a succulent delicacy if this clown hadn't come along!" John Rolfe angrily proclaimed. He deposited Juanito Ponce de León before the fire pit and furiously threw a few more sticks on top since the flames had died, fanning them back to life. The Englishman peered at Pocahontas. "Are you packing?" he inquired, suddenly noticing that their bedrolls were gone.
"I was. I wasn't sure where you had run off to. Sorry, John," Pocahontas replied as she took out the bedrolls again. "I'll put everything back the way it was. What are you going to do with him?" she asked, pointing to the old man. "You won't hurt him, will you?"
John Rolfe looked affronted in response to the question. "Of course not! I may sound angry but, believe it or not, I do have some degree of respect for my elders. Since this nut case isn't exactly of sound mind, I figured it would be irresponsible of me to let him go wandering off on his own. He'll starve, freeze, or worse. Nearly got himself devoured by a big black bear, after all. Utterly ridiculous!" John Rolfe turned his attention to Juanito, who was subtly trying to unbind himself and having no luck at it. "Viejo, call back your horse," Rolfe told him in Spanish. "You and Señor Ciceron are coming to Virginia with us whether you like it or not and the stallion will be carrying our things," he decreed.
Juanito drew his brows together. "I do not give you permission to use my horse!"
"And we didn't give you permission to use our supper to fill your oversized belly," John Rolfe retorted, lightly poking the Spaniard in his rotund paunch with the tip of the rapier. "I'm not asking, I'm telling!" It was then Pocahontas noticed Rolfe had in his possession the sword that the Spaniard had used to snatch up the roast piglet in the first place.
With the rapier aimed in his direction, Juanito felt more than a little bit intimidated. Finally conceding, he whistled loudly and called out, "¡Ciceron, ven aquí!"
Minutes later, soft clops could be heard. The large Andalusian male approached, giving John Rolfe a chance to truly observe him. The stallion was covered in a dark brown winter coat and wore a long black mane. "He's lovely," Rolfe remarked to Juanito.
"Yeah? And he's not yours!" the Spaniard returned in a snippy tone.
John Rolfe placed his hands on his hips and shook his head with an amused look on his face. "Señor, I think we have already established that you are the thief and not I. You can have your horse back all to yourself when we reach Virginia. Understand?"
Still, Juanito appeared suspicious. "You'd better not hurt him along the way!" he warned.
John Rolfe looked insulted. "Me? Hurt a horse? I would never, I love horses!" Rolfe countered. The English gentleman walked over to his rucksack and pulled out a piece of dried pawpaw fruit. It was the closest he could get to an apple. He went over to see if the horse wanted to eat it. "I've got a present for you, Señor Ciceron. Yum, yum, yum, I hope you like it," Rolfe offered in a soft voice. He slowly approached the animal to avoid frightening him and held out the treat on a flat palm, offering it to the stallion. Ciceron snuffled his way over to the pawpaw and plucked it out of Rolfe's hand with his dark velvet lips, chewing it delightfully. The Englishman placed a hand on his neck and stroked him. "That's a good boy. My, you're awfully gentle for a stallion."
"He comes from a long line of fierce warhorses!" Juanito proclaimed.
John Rolfe nodded. "Yes, he looks very strong indeed. I bet the mares go nuts when they see him. Isn't that right, Señor Ciceron? You're a real equine lover boy, aren't you?" Ciceron snorted and bobbed his head, getting excited by all the attention. "Yes, that's right. Why don't you lie down and get comfortable? We're camping here tonight. Or perhaps you would prefer to wander off and find something to eat. But don't go running into that bear again," John Rolfe warned, shaking a finger at the stallion. Ciceron tried to lightly nip at it and the Englishman gave him a nice pat on the muzzle.
"John, what are we going to do for dinner?" Pocahontas inquired. "I'm starved now. I hate to eat into our food supply but I could make hominy porridge with dried fish."
John Rolfe sighed. "I suppose we've got no choice tonight. Our suckling pig is long gone and I think it's too dark for either of us to try hunting again," he expressed, cleaning off the rapier. He returned it to its scabbard on Ciceron's saddle and then started to unstrap the whole saddle. The diplomat pulled the whole thing off as well as the blanket under it and laid both on the ground nearby. Lastly, he took off the horse's bridle, which seemed to give the large stallion immense relief. "There you are, my equine friend. I suppose now is as good a time as any to air out that fur after a long day of traveling, eh?"
Ciceron snorted and trotted off into the forest to find grasses to munch on. "Don't go too far, Ciceron!" Juanito called. Both the Spaniard and Englishman's stomachs growled simultaneously and they exchanged glances. Juanito had an expectant look in his eye.
"Time to make dinner then," John Rolfe declared in Spanish, shooting Juanito a glare, "again." He helped Pocahontas set up the ceramic pot and get out the ingredients. Soon enough, porridge was boiling over the fire. Rolfe glimpsed Juanito licking his lips as he stared at it. "Señor, might I ask how long it's been since you last had something to eat?"
Juanito's face fell. "The last time I had anything substantial was at least three days ago. Just berries and insects since," he admitted, sulking. "Sometimes I envy Ciceron because he's always got food all around him! If only we men could digest raw plants easily."
"Ha!" John Rolfe replied. "Well, I bet they would taste terrible!"
"Ciceron seems to like them," remarked the Spaniard.
John Rolfe intertwined his fingers as he watched Juanito. "Tell me. Do you speak English at all, señor?" he inquired, not wanting to have to translate for Pocahontas if possible.
"My English is very poor," the Spaniard admitted.
"Ah."
Juanito sat up straight. "But I can speak Portuguese."
"Well, I can't and neither can Pocahontas, sorry," John Rolfe replied.
"Can you untie me now?"
John Rolfe shook his head. "I'll untie you when the food is ready to eat. But, believe you me, I'll be watching you like a hawk the whole time. Even so, I view you more as a charge than a captive. I'll hand you right over to your family in Virginia when we arrive."
"A charge?" Juanito repeated, not understanding.
"That's right," Rolfe shot back. "I don't mean to sound patronizing, good señor, but it is clear as day to me that you are not of sound mind and therefore pose a danger to yourself and others. I can't let you wander off by yourself and leave you to your own devices."
The Spaniard's face suddenly turned red with anger. "I'm not loco! You are loco!"
"I didn't say you were loco, only senile," John Rolfe answered back. "You pointed your guns at us without provocation. Even if neither were loaded, you had no need to threaten us to start with. We are peaceful folk, both Pocahontas and myself." The aforementioned woman glanced over when she heard her name and raised a brow at the conversation.
"¡No! You are Inglés! You are the enemy! I can tell from your accent, muchacho."
John Rolfe rolled his eyes. "Just because our nations don't get along doesn't mean you and I have to be enemies. I have nothing against Spaniards based solely on their heritage. That would be small-minded and very ill-bred—so says my mum and dad. I'm a diplomat by trade, you see. A peacemaker. If I could create peace between Spain and England right now, I would do it. But that problem is much too big for one man to handle. I—"
"You're starting to bore me," Juanito interrupted, yawning.
John Rolfe got an eyeful of the old man's maw and noticed that he did not have very many teeth left. The Englishman began to wonder how Juanito Ponce de León even intended to eat the suckling pig that he had tried to steal in the first place. Fortunately, the aged Spaniard would have no problem gobbling down the mushy porridge. Even the dried fish would be softened through the boiling process. Rolfe snorted and turned his attention back to the fire, poking at the coals. "Sorry, didn't mean to prattle," he retorted in a snooty tone. Juanito snorted back at the diplomat and watched the pot of porridge, fidgeting impatiently as he waited for it to finally begin the boiling process.
John Rolfe let out an aggravated sigh and Pocahontas noticed. "You okay, John?"
"He's stubborn," John Rolfe told her in English. "And fairly unreasonable, I'd say." Pocahontas chuckled. "What's so funny?" Rolfe protested. "I'm still not happy he lost our piglet! Imagine how delicious it would've been. Now, all we've got is porridge."
"He sounds just like his brother. Poncito is a notoriously stubborn man. However, he has become much more reasonable since he met Ugwumpah. Last I saw him, I was actually able to hold a normal conversation with him," Pocahontas giggled, using a hand to cover the silly grin on her face. "He speaks both English and Powhatan very proficiently now."
John Rolfe frowned. "Great! Now we need to find the good señor a lady friend to cure his eccentricities. I don't see any nice old ladies around here, so it would seem impossible."
"Look on the bright side, John. Now that we've got three people, I can hunt larger game without being wasteful. Plus, we have that beautiful stallion to carry the extra meat for us," Pocahontas pointed out, leaning over to plant a kiss on the Englishman's cheek.
John Rolfe's eyes widened in alarm. "You're going to hunt large game? Be careful! Big animals can hurt people and I wouldn't want to see you get injured… again." Suddenly, he had the impulse to bang his head against a tree. "Oh, if only I could help you! But I know I'll only make too much noise and frighten off the critters. Why me?" he lamented.
Pocahontas gave him a back pat. "Just be patient with yourself. You know you learn fast. We were going to get you started after dinner anyway, remember?" she reminded him.
John Rolfe crossed his arms over his chest and pouted. He gave her a nod. "Fine," Rolfe uttered. The porridge was ready twenty minutes later. Rolfe took Juanito's sword and scabbard and sat on them to prevent the man from trying to use his weapon to escape.
"Be careful with that! It is a prized heirloom belonging to my father and his father before him!" Juanito protested. Rolfe adjusted his position to put less weight on it. He had Pocahontas untie the old man's bindings as he served the porridge in five bowls, one for Meeko, one for Percy, one for Pocahontas, one for himself, and one for Juanito Ponce de León. The starved Spaniard greedily gobbled up his portion, nearly burning his tongue in the process, and then held his bowl out for more. "¡Más! I must have más!"
Rolfe held up the ladle teasingly. "What's the magic word?" he sang.
Juanito Ponce de León drew his brows together and groaned. "¿Por favor?"
"Correct," John Rolfe replied, filling the bowl again. When the meal was done and every drop of porridge gone, the Spaniard still wanted to eat more. "I'm sorry, señor. We must conserve our food supply. We will eat again in the morning. Now, if you want breakfast, you are going to let me bind your hands again without a fight. Understand?"
Juanito was petulant but he knew he would be lying to himself if he pretended to not want breakfast. He snorted in irritation. "Fine," he murmured as Ciceron returned from his foraging. The stallion glanced expectantly at the Englishman.
"Ah, my equine friend. Let me prepare a place to sleep for you and your master," John Rolfe began. "Right after I'm done with this," he added, taking a rope to Juanito. The aged Spaniard offered up his hands, turning away. Rolfe tied his wrists together and also used a smaller twine to tie each individual finger to the one on the opposite hand as well, effectively taking away the old man's basic motor skills. "There. Not to tight and not too loose." Juanito snorted again. Rolfe turned his attention to the piles of autumn leaves that he and Pocahontas had swept aside to make the fire pit. He raked them together with a long forked branch into a bed big enough for a horse. Then the Englishman lightly patted the surface. "Don't know if you'll like this as much as hay but it should keep you comfy enough," he proposed as the horse walked over, sniffing the leaves.
Ciceron ate some of them and stepped onto the bed, snuffling around. Gradually, he folded his front legs under him and lay down. "I think he likes it," Pocahontas remarked with a giggle. She came over to allow the horse to smell her hand and then she gave him a pat on the nose. "Time for your first archery lesson, John," she announced.
"In a minute. The señor looks tired. I want to get him bunked down first." He used the branch to make a smaller bed with the remaining leaves and spread out a wool blanket from the Spaniard's own supply on top of it. Rolfe stuffed more leaves under one end to form a pillow. Meanwhile, Pocahontas wandered off to wash the dishes. "Señor de León, come and rest here," he spoke, ushering the drowsy foreigner over to the makeshift bed.
The Spaniard was not reluctant at all to sleep. Indeed, he was a tired old man. Without pitching a single argument or even making a snide remark, he trudged over to the leaf bed and all but collapsed on top of it. John Rolfe laid Ciceron's saddle blanket over him and the cheeky fellow was snoring in no time flat. Rolfe yawned as Pocahontas returned. "I guess we had better keep this brief since you are tired too," she remarked with a giggle, pulling Rolfe into a quick embrace. The Englishman nodded, rubbing his eyes.
It took twenty minutes for Pocahontas to show him how to hold the bow and nock an arrow. In the end, John Rolfe successfully shot an arrow into the exposed root of a nearby birch tree. It was not quite where he was aiming but it was good enough for a beginner. Pocahontas washed off her camouflage. Then they called it a night and went to sleep.
…
NOVEMBER 7, 1613
Pocahontas rose at the crack of dawn determined to hunt for venison. The deer were active at this time and she knew it. John Rolfe awoke as well from the noise she was making as she prepared for the hunt. She was out for a good hour and a half before she came back empty-handed, having only seen does and fawns. The Englishman noticed the disappointment on her face. Fortunately, he had been successful in procuring a sack of chinquapin nuts, one of Pocahontas's favorites. Combined with a few wild blackberries and venison jerky, they made a superb breakfast. Juanito seemed to have trouble eating the jerky though as it was all pretty tough and required a lot of chewing.
After breakfast was over, Pocahontas and John Rolfe packed up all the supplies onto Ciceron's back. Though the rucksacks had been pretty heavy to them, the weight was practically nothing to the strapping stallion. Rolfe tied a loose rope bridle around the horse's head and neck and used it to lead Ciceron through the forest. He kept the rapier strapped to his own belt so Juanito could not just hop up on the horse while nobody was looking and make off with all their stuff. His attachment to the rapier made it clear that he would never leave it behind. Interestingly enough, they were able to travel much farther that day than previously with the horse's assistance. It was a welcome change.
Juanito Ponce de León complained about being unable to ride his own horse. The old man bellyached that his back, legs, and feet were aching, though he seemed to have no trouble keeping up with everyone else. Ultimately, John Rolfe chose to ignore the old Spaniard's petty grievances. He kept a close watch over Juanito the whole day and waited for any sign indicating that the elderly fellow might be intending to attempt an escape.
For lunch, Pocahontas, John Rolfe, and Juanito ate leftover chinquapin nuts and dried berries. Pocahontas, Rolfe, and Percy enjoyed dried fish as well. Meeko found a tree of tasty acorns and he stuffed himself full. Once the chinquapin nuts were gone, Pocahontas used the empty sack to collect acorns for a stew later. In the evening, they reached another branch of a river. Pocahontas attached a line to one of her arrows and began taking shots at the jumping fish. Meanwhile, Rolfe and Juanito traveled upriver to avoid disturbing the fish that Pocahontas was trying to catch. Because wildlife was so prolific around waterways, Rolfe took it upon himself to try to catch something with nothing but his bare hands and a big empty sack. He removed all of his clothes except his knickers, wading into the water quietly despite the chill. Conditions were ideal since the cold made the snapping turtles on a nearby log very lethargic. He ambushed the lot of them from underwater and was able to catch three large ones in the sack without getting bitten.
Juanito had remained on the bank with a ceramic pot collecting blackberries. He found it difficult to resist the temptation to taunt the Englishman. It was the thought of turtle soup that ultimately prevented him from doing so as the Spaniard had not wanted to scare off the game. With three live turtles in a big sack and a potful of berries, John Rolfe and Juanito returned to the camp and the former built a fire. Percy was the only one animal present and went to lie down by the fire. Ciceron was off foraging by himself. Meeko and Flit had, likewise, followed Pocahontas to the river. The pug sniffed the sack and yelped when it suddenly moved. "Don't get too close, Percy. Those turtles bite," Rolfe warned.
Juanito got impatient as Rolfe tended the flames and paid the turtles no mind. "When are you going to start cooking those?" he blurted, pointing to the sack of snappers.
John Rolfe blinked, gazing at the sack. The opening was tied closed with twine to prevent the creatures' escape. "I suppose I'll help Pocahontas do that when she gets back."
"Well, you should clean them now so they'll be ready for the woman to cook when she arrives!" Juanito Ponce de León fervently pointed out, brandishing a fist in hunger.
John Rolfe felt his face flush slightly. "I… well… You see, I can't just… it… um…"
"What are you getting all tongue-tied for, muchacho?" Juanito admonished. "I asked you to do a simple task! Come on, I'm starving!" he proclaimed with a great dramatic gesture.
John Rolfe felt his face redden even more. "I… I don't really know how to, well, clean an animal yet," he admitted. "I-I was going to ask Pocahontas to show me when she's back."
Juanito's face went blank. He burst into laughter, pointing at John Rolfe in a taunting manner. "You call yourself a man? What kind of man relies on a woman for such things? Ha ha ha! Butchering prey is man work, amigo! I'll bet the moment you get home, she tosses you aside for a warrior who knows what the hell he's doing outside of London!"
John Rolfe knitted his brows. "No!" he protested. "She loves me! And I can learn how to do it. I'm not stupid, just inexperienced!" he shot back. Percy started to growl at Juanito.
"If you do not yet know something as basic as how to prepare an animal carcass, then you are in dire straights, boy," Juanito retorted. "You're a fop, aren't you? A real popinjay. Oh, look, it's tea time with the king." He mimed the act of holding a teacup and saucer, extending his pinky in the air as he took a delicate 'sip.' "You Brits make me laugh! Can you even shoot a rifle?" he inquired, continuing his cruel mockery of the Englishman.
John Rolfe felt even more blood rush to his face, this time in anger. "Of course, I can! My father taught me how to do that," he snapped back. "So you can laugh all you want, you old maggot. Just because you know some things that I haven't had the chance to learn yet doesn't make you better than I am—any more than it makes the warriors around here better. I'm excellent at what I do. In fact, I have been favored by King James in the very recent past. He even offered me a position as Lord Advisor to the Royal Court! Can you claim such social popularity? Well, can you?!" John Rolfe spat furiously.
"If he offered you such a position, what in the world are you doing out here?" Juanito inquired. The question sounded more like honest curiosity than an attempt at ridicule.
John Rolfe groaned. "I came back here because I fell in love. I intend to ask Pocahontas's father for her hand in marriage when we get to Virginia because I want to spend the rest of my life with her. That's why I'm here. My heart overruled my duty to the king."
Juanito snorted. "And you assume that girl's red-skinned father would hand over his beloved daughter to a clueless white milksop because…? Ha! If he has the slightest degree of competence as a parent, the first thing he'll do when you ask him is laugh right in your face! Pff, can't clean a carcass. You wait and see my prediction come true, you pantywaist! At least let me clean the turtles if you're too chicken heart to do it, fop!"
"Like I'd give you a knife! If you're so damn impatient, get up off your backside and collect more firewood! That ought to distract you from your insatiable hunger. Go! I have had more than enough of you for now!" Rolfe snapped, waving the annoying man off. Juanito did not cease to chuckle as he got up and wandered off into the woods. Rolfe was relieved when he was finally gone. Despite the brave face he had put on against the man's taunts, the truth was that his confidence had taken a severe hit beneath the surface.
Even the kisses and praises that Pocahontas gave him for his success in catching the turtles was not enough to lift John Rolfe out of his funk. When she returned, she was very pleased with him indeed because she herself had only managed to catch a single fish with the bow. If only she had thought to bring along a fishing net. Unfortunately, she had overlooked it in the rush to pack up. Percy walked over and licked the back of Rolfe's right hand, whimpering slightly. Even Meeko and Flit seemed to notice his depressed mood. Pocahontas was carefully untying the twine around the neck of the turtle sack when Rolfe cleared his throat. "Um, Pocahontas. I… S-seeing that there are three whole turtles in there, I thought it would save time if you were to instruct me on how to clean the carcass of one while you're working on another. I mean, I need to learn how to do that sooner or later," he bashfully muttered, his stomach filling with butterflies.
Juanito returned with another bundle of logs and set it on the pile. Then he plopped down on the opposite side of the fire from the other two. He glanced at John Rolfe and snickered. Pocahontas smiled, hardly taking notice of the old man. "Yes, that would be great. Otherwise, this might take a while and I'm pretty hungry." She pulled out two obsidian knives out of her rucksack, handing one to Rolfe, and got out her machete. Then she stuck a stick into the opening of the sack. One of the turtles clamped on and she pulled it out by its jaws. "Now the first thing you want to do is cut off the turtle's head to kill it. I'm going to use my machete for that because it'll cut right through the bone," she explained, using her hand to approach the turtle's head from behind. She clasped its jaws shut with her fingers. "You must be very careful. Their bite is strong enough to take off a finger and the head can still bite even after it has been severed," she cautiously told him.
John Rolfe appeared horrified. "The head can what after it's severed?! Are you serious?" he bellowed. This task was already creeping him out, though he had not even started yet.
"Bite," Pocahontas simply replied. "And yes, I am serious." She held the turtle's head in her left hand and the machete in her right. Then she began to saw the snapper's head off at a rapid pace. John Rolfe was tempted to squeeze his eyes shut and turn away. But the Spaniard was watching from the other side of the fire, a big smirk on his face. Rolfe could not give him the satisfaction. He forced himself to look as Pocahontas sawed through the vertebrae. There was surprisingly little blood and the animal itself did not seem to protest much. Perhaps it simply had not gotten a chance before its intelligence centers had been separated from its body. It had also been pretty lethargic from the cold. Pocahontas handed the machete to Rolfe and stuck the stick back into the sack, pulling out a second turtle. "This one is yours. Remove the head like I showed you."
John Rolfe swallowed hard as he peered at the snapping turtle, then at the machete, and back at the turtle again. He took a deep breath and grabbed the snapper by its long tail, pulling it toward him. The animal tried to crawl away, so Rolfe was forced to pin it to the ground with one of his legs. He grabbed its head the same way that Pocahontas had shown him. "Like this?" he asked, receiving a nod. He took another deep breath, forcing the bile back down. The very last thing he wanted to do was vomit in front of the old man. That would only confirm everything the aged Spaniard had previously said about him. I'm not a milksop, I'm not a milksop, I'm not a milksop, I'm not a milksop, I'm not a milksop, I'm not a milksop, Rolfe repeated to himself as he wound the machete back, preparing to chop off the head. He gave in to the temptation to squeeze his eyes shut.
"No, no, no! John, stop!" Pocahontas cried, grabbing his wrist. "You don't chop. Your other hand is too close to the target and you could easily lop your fingers off!"
John Rolfe opened his eyes and met her gaze. His face flushed. "Oh? Sorry, I meant…"
"It's alright. Here, let me show you," Pocahontas replied. She took hold of his wrist and slowly guided his hand until the blade of the machete was resting on the snapper's neck below its skull. "Now, from here, you want to saw rapidly back and forth. Focus more on speed than pressure, like when you're trying to start a fire with a bow drill," she advised.
John Rolfe heaved in a breath. "O-okay…" He paused. "Okay, I'm going to start now. In five, four, three, two… one!" He drew the machete back and forth, pulling the turtle's head away from its body with his left hand as he felt it quickly come loose. He did not stop until the head was completely off. Then he let out the breath he had been holding.
Pocahontas took the head and set it aside. "Okay, you can put down the machete now," she said, picking up an obsidian blade. She returned her attention to her own turtle and flipped it onto its hard-shelled back. The legs immediately started kicking.
John Rolfe yelped in a high-pitched voice, pointing at the moving carcass. "It's alive! How can it be alive? It's got no head!" he cried, set on edge already by the killing.
Juanito burst into discordant laughter and pointed at Rolfe but Pocahontas did not notice. "Oh. Sorry, John. I forgot to warn you. Turtles are kind of weird. They keep moving after you kill them," she explained. "Okay, now the next step is to cut the feet off. Be mindful of the claws, they can scratch you," she warned, taking hold of one of the feet.
John Rolfe managed to calm down and Pocahontas continued to walk him through the process until all the meat was separated from the turtle shell. He was surprised and relieved when the guts did not pop out like he had expected them to. He was reminded of the bosun gutting Ka-Okee's poor mother. The task was still disgusting to him, though he got through it. Rolfe and Pocahontas killed and butchered the third turtle together.
They used the smallest turtle, the fish, and the acorns to make the stew and they ate every last drop of it. Then Pocahontas used the rain cover to smoke the remaining turtle meat, of which there was a fair amount. By the time the meat was smoking, the old Spaniard had gone to bed along with Meeko, Percy, and Flit. John Rolfe once again raked together a bed for Ciceron, who soon returned from grazing. Then the Englishman curled up in his own bedroll to go to sleep. Pocahontas washed all the dishes before retiring.
…
NOVEMBER 13, 1613
The next six days passed uneventfully. Pocahontas's success in hunting was erratic. John Rolfe always took the opportunity after dinner to practice with the bow. He had no concept of how to even begin to shoot accurately. Pocahontas showed him how to aim but told him that only experience would improve his accuracy after that. It was like when he had learned to shoot a gun in his youth so he did not protest despite his frustration.
The main problem they were having now was that food supplies were running low. John Rolfe and Pocahontas had been forced to rely on the powdered corn, jerky, nuts, and dried fruits that they had brought from Siwili's village. They needed to find a way to refill on supplies, either by finding a friendly village or by hunting for larger game. The weather had suddenly snapped cold again, forcing Pocahontas and Rolfe to wear their winter clothing as they traveled. The cold weather limited their foraging options severely, which only compounded the food scarcity issue. Fortunately, Juanito had some clothes of his own though he still felt cold much of the time. It was just a symptom of old age.
With the air crisp and frosty, Pocahontas, John Rolfe, Juanito, Meeko, Percy, Flit, and Ciceron continued the journey through heavily-forested lands. The farther north they traveled, the rockier the terrain became and the less even. Eventually, they came upon a ravine through which a small stream ran and were forced to unload the supplies from Ciceron's back. Then John Rolfe rode the horse fast, directing him to jump over the ravine. He did so successfully. The others used a bridge formed by a fallen tree trunk.
NOVEMBER 15, 1613
It just so happened while they were on the move one afternoon that Pocahontas spotted sudden movement atop an enormous protruding boulder that poked out of the forest's trees and shrubs like a great gray beacon. Pocahontas hushed the group and told them to hide while she took her bow and quiver, slinking off through the forest. John Rolfe and the others waited very patiently. Twenty minutes had passed before they heard anything. The first thing they did hear was the loud bellow of a very distressed and very large animal. "John, bring Ciceron here! I need him to drag this moose out of the bushes!"
John Rolfe's heart sped up immediately. A moose? Moose were enormous animals. If Pocahontas had really killed one, they would be set on food for at least a week—if not two. Rolfe started to remove the supplies from Ciceron's back. "Coming, love! I'm just unloading him first!" He led the horse up the hill and around a few thickets. Rolfe found Pocahontas standing beside some tall shrubbery. The diplomat discovered the fallen bull moose on the ground between two shrubs, an arrow piercing its heart. "Pocahontas," John Rolfe stated plainly as he tied the ropes to Ciceron's saddle and handed the ends to the young Powhatan huntress, "have I ever told you how very amazing you are?"
"I caught him totally unawares! It was way easier than I thought it'd to be," Pocahontas revealed, excited and enthusiastic about the kill. "Cleaning this carcass is going to be a big job. I'll need your help. Look at this lovely winter coat! It will make a luxurious blanket." She took the ropes and tied the ends to the moose's antlers. "Okay, it's ready."
Pocahontas held branches aside as John Rolfe directed Ciceron to drag the dead moose out onto open ground. Juanito, Meeko, Percy, and Flit quickly came over to check out the kill. The old Spaniard's mouth hung open. "¡Caramba! I can't believe a mere woman took this great beast down all by herself!" the elderly fellow exclaimed in Spanish.
"There's nothing 'mere' about Pocahontas," John Rolfe retorted, flashing a sly grin.
The moose was immensely heavy. Pocahontas, John Rolfe, and Juanito all three needed to help to flip the beast onto its back. "I'm going to need my machete for all this," she remarked. "John, take the stallion and go fetch all of our supplies," she instructed him.
No sooner had she made the request than Rolfe was off. He and Ciceron returned minutes later, the horse's back draped with luggage. "Are we making camp here tonight then?" he inquired, receiving a nod from Pocahontas. He took all the supplies off of Ciceron's back and leaned them against nearby trees. Then the Englishman removed the saddle and halter and let the horse off early to roam the woods in search of edible vegetation.
Pocahontas sharpened her machete and they got to work skinning the animal. Once the moose was mostly flayed, she made a slit straight down the belly and cut around the genitals. The guts popped into view, which made John Rolfe hurl. He forced himself to endure only because the mean old Spaniard was watching him from the other side of the carcass. It was even worse when Pocahontas requested his help in cutting out the organs. He had to hike up his sleeves, reach his forearms into the body cavity, and touch them.
As per Pocahontas's instructions, John Rolfe was careful not to pierce any organs for fear that bile, urine, or some other nasty substance would spew right up into his face. It was tedious work and very straining, plus it took a long time. Pocahontas saved the liver and heart, discarding the rest of the organs. They would have used the offal in her village but they were still stuck in the wild with no means or time for making things out of them. After the insides had been removed, Pocahontas and the others rolled the moose onto its side and allowed the blood to drain out. She and Rolfe butchered the animal by cutting the meat off the bones piece by piece. Due to of the sheer size of the beast, they did not possess the tools or equipment necessary to saw through its big hard bones.
John Rolfe sent Juanito on a mission to create three fire pits, build fires therein, and then collect a ton of firewood in preparation for smoking the mountain of moose meat. All the vigorous activity prevented any of them from feeling cold. Pocahontas and Rolfe were both able to remove their coats entirely as they worked. The Powhatan princess washed all the blood and dirt off the hide before using it to smoke the meat. That night, they feasted on the flesh before bedtime and eventually fell asleep between the warm fires as half the meat smoked wrapped in its own skin and the other half smoked wrapped in the hide rain cover Rolfe and Pocahontas had brought along with them. It took all night and the whole next day to finish preserving all of the food for their travels.