The Adventures of Pocahontas and John Rolfe: Book I

Chapter 22: Snow Angel

It was clear that a great storm was coming in with heavy gray clouds near on the horizon. Pocahontas saw tiny sparse snowflakes fluttering around her. During that day's hunting expedition she had nearly gotten close enough to a family of wild hogs to take a shot at the male but something had frightened them away before she could even get in position. The wind soon picked up, disabling Flit's flight capacity. The bad weather meant no more hunting. Pocahontas snatched Flit right out of the air and stuffed him down inside one of her biggest pockets. She hated to go back to the cave empty-handed yet again. With the exception of the hummingbird, everyone's physical condition was worsening day by day. If they failed to find food soon, they would not be able to travel anymore and would have to pick a place to pass the winter. Maybe her mother's guiding spirit would lead them to a friendly nearby village. Otherwise, their prospects looked pretty grim.

On the way back to the cave, Pocahontas and Flit heard Percy's distant barks over the roar of the wind. The panicked pug was howling loudly. Despite her lethargy, fear spurred Pocahontas into a sprint and she ran to see what the trouble was. The last thing that she expected to find was John Rolfe collapsed on the frigid ground near the river as the snow fell heavier and heavier. "John!" Pocahontas screamed at the top of her lungs, charging over to him. Percy was at the Englishman's side, nudging him with his nose in an attempt to revive him. "Oh no! What happened? John, wake up!" the young woman cried.

Pocahontas fell to her knees at John Rolfe's side, shaking him. She soon came to realize that he was soaking wet and chilled to the bone. How he had gotten into that condition, she could only venture to guess. She barely heard him groan as she shooed Percy aside, rolling Rolfe over onto his back. His pallid eyelids fluttered as the life was draining out of them. "C-c-c-c-cold-d," he stuttered, his teeth visibly chattering. Tremors ran through his body all over, sending a spike of fear through Pocahontas's heart.

Just then an icy cold wind picked up, making her cheeks sting terribly. She could only imagine the effect it was having on John Rolfe and she threw her body over his to protect him from the worst of it. When it died down, more snowflake flurries fell from the heavens. The gray sky was quickly becoming a pall of white. "John, we have to get back to the cave right this moment. Get up!" Pocahontas commanded, pulling on his arm with all her might. He was shivering so badly that he struggled to push himself up from the ground, even with Pocahontas's help. Once he was in a sitting position, she reached for a long fallen branch and held it up to him. "This should help you get to your feet. Hurry, a storm is coming!" she exclaimed, shouting over the wind. "Please, get up!"

John Rolfe took hold of the stick with his bare hands, his knuckles blue. Pocahontas came up behind him and buried her elbows beneath his underarms, using a wide stance to help him pull himself to his feet. A fierce gust nearly bowled them over but Pocahontas kept a tight grip on the chilled Englishman. "C-c-c-can't feel my f-f-feet," he uttered.

Pocahontas grabbed John Rolfe's arm and draped it around her shoulders to help him support himself. "Walk! Go on. One leg in front of the other," Pocahontas cried over the howling gale. Once again, it was not her mother's spirit that she sensed but something far more sinister. She could not have been more grateful Juanito was gone in that moment.

They slowly made progress toward the cave as the snow thickened even more. Oversized flakes swirled around the pair. Percy had already run for the cave, unable to bear the windchill any longer. It did not help that they were moving up an incline. While it was not steep at all, it still made it harder to reach their destination. Once they had nearly reached the cave, a wintry gale hit them from the front and caused them both to lose their balance. They stumbled over. It almost felt like the wind was trying to stop them from reaching their destination. Pocahontas growled in determination and jumped up, grabbing both of John Rolfe's icy hands. She dragged him backward into the cavern with all of her strength. Meeko and Percy both huddled together between the rucksacks, shivering.

The animals were not Pocahontas's primary concern. She pulled John Rolfe deeper into the cave where the wind could no longer reach and laid him down by the fire pit he had made earlier. He was still conscious but shivering uncontrollably. Pocahontas went to work attacking the buttons on his sopping coat and helping him to maneuver his arms out of the sleeves. His mittens fell out. Moving toward his feet, she tugged his boots off. Freezing water poured out of them when she turned them over and flowed back toward the mouth of the cave. It was the snow pants that went next. Pocahontas untied the sash and yanked them off. Rolfe tried to sit up and pull off his long-sleeve shirt. She helped him pull it over his head and then attacked the undershirt, tugging it up to reveal his bare torso. He tossed it aside but placed a hand over his leather belt before she could unbuckle it as well. "P-P-Poc-a-hontas, I h-h-haven't got any more c-c-clothes. I w-w-was wearing th-th-them all," he expressed, not knowing what to do about the problem.

Pocahontas knitted her brows. "Well, you'll just have to wear nothing then," she retorted, turning toward the packs. She pulled John Rolfe's bedroll from his travel pack and rolled it out beside him. Then she reached for his belt, trying to pull his hands out of the way.

John Rolfe's face would have gone crimson if it was not already turning blue. "N-n-n-no, wait! I c-c-caught a f-fish. L-l-let me do this while y-y-y-y-you go g-get the f-f-f-fish. P-P-Percy knows wh-wh-where it is," he revealed, struggling to shield his belt from her.

"John, this is no time for mod… Did you say fish?" Pocahontas blurted, meeting his eye.

Though the pug was shivering, he jumped forward and yipped before pointing his nose to the mouth of the cave. He panted, getting hungry as he remembered the large fish. Percy yipped again, urging Pocahontas to follow him. "S-s-s-see?" John Rolfe answered.

Pocahontas glanced at Percy and narrowed her eyes at Rolfe. "By the time I get back, I expect you to be in that bedroll and the only wet thing anywhere near you should be your hair," she ordained, giving him an extended warning stare. She broke the gaze and turned around, following the pug. "Come on, Percy. Let's hurry. A storm is starting!"

Flit flew out of Pocahontas's pocket, not wanting to go outside again since he would be of no use. He flew over to John Rolfe to assess his situation, finding it not good at all. Once Percy and Pocahontas had disappeared, Rolfe checked to make extra sure that they were gone. Only then did he unbuckle his belt. Meeko and Flit watched him strip and crawl into the bedroll, curling up to keep as warm as possible. Still, he was shivering terribly. Meeko scurried over and clambered down into the bedroll, causing Rolfe to yelp loudly in startlement. The raccoon curled his warm furry body around the Englishman's frigid feet. "Oh, th-th-th-thank you, M-M-Meeko," he stuttered out clumsily.

…

When Pocahontas followed Percy out of the cave, she brought only her bow, quiver, and hunting knife with her because they had already been on her person. The wind had calmed down only slightly. She struggled through the snow drifts as she followed Percy downhill to the location of the fish. It was a whopper! No wonder the poor Englishman had been haplessly pulled into the water by a brute of that size, she thought. Percy took hold of the fish's line and yanked on it, finding the fish was too heavy for him to pull all by himself. "Here. Let me help you with that, Percy," Pocahontas offered.

Suddenly, the Powhatan princess spotted something by the water's edge. She went over to investigate, discovering the same red fox mask that John Rolfe had found. Pocahontas picked it up and raised an eyebrow at it. She turned toward Percy and raised it to her face. "I wonder if John might like this. Maybe I should bring it back for him," Pocahontas called over the roar of the wind. The eyes of the mask flashed again and the little pug dog whimpered, getting a negative internal feeling that he could not define.

A big black bear snuffled around nearby. It was late to the hibernation party, looking for one last meal before bedding down for the winter. The beast wandered out of the brush into view, sniffing the ground. It set its eyes on the dispatched sturgeon. Percy let out a shrill yelp as the bear lunged in his direction, running to hide behind Pocahontas. The bear snatched up the sturgeon in its jaws and turned back to depart with the stolen meal.

Pocahontas was so surprised that she dropped the mask. She was having none of it. If they had not been so desperate for food, she might have let the beast get away with its theft. But as things were, she could not afford to let it go. "Percy, go back to the cave," she ordained. The Powhatan princess nocked an arrow in her bow and ran after the fleeing bear. The beast was running fast but Pocahontas barreled through some dense shrubbery to cut it off. The first shot she took hit the animal in the backside. Pocahontas, shivering from both cold and adrenaline, had not aimed very well. When the arrow struck, the creature reared up on its hind legs and dropped the fish. It let loose a most ferocious roar as it turned its sights on the huntress responsible for its woe.

Uh oh, Pocahontas thought. She struggled to nock another arrow as the bear charged at her. The second arrow hit the bear in the right shoulder, causing it to stop momentarily and snarl in pain. The projectile had only made the animal angrier than it had been. It charged again, redoubling its speed. Pocahontas cried out in fear. It was too close to nock another arrow. She unsheathed her long hunting knife and, with an angered Siwili-like war cry, lunged at the bear. Hopefully, Pocahontas's feigned confidence would frighten it to run away. But it kept coming. Then came the clash. The animal tried to bear-hug her in a crushing embrace as she brought the knife down right past the collarbone.

Moments later, Pocahontas found herself buried beneath the warm furry carcass. Blood was dripping in her face. The shock of victory did not last long for she quickly came up with a brilliant idea. She pushed the dead body off of her and rose to her feet, checking herself over for injuries. The bear had slashed a hole in the shoulder of her winter coat but had not reached her flesh. The only blood on the snow belonged to the dead animal. Pocahontas did not give herself much time to think before she grabbed hold of a paw and started dragging the bear back to the cave. It took her six minutes and she was an icicle by the time she arrived. Pocahontas found John Rolfe huddled inside his bedroll, shaking violently. He seemed insensible to the world beyond his own troubled state.

That changed as soon as Pocahontas draped the warm carcass over his body. His eyes snapped open and he stared right into the lifeless visage of a black bear. Rolfe yelped loudly and tried to struggle, finding the task not to be too easy with the heavy carcass on top of him. "Relax, John," Pocahontas quickly told him. "The bear will warm you up."

"B-b-b-b-b-bear? H-how d-d-d-d-did you…?"

Pocahontas shushed him. "A story for another time," she replied, getting out John Rolfe's bow drill. She went to work at the fire pit to light a flame. It was not long before she got frustrated as her frozen fingers made the task harder. It took nearly five minutes but, eventually, she succeeded at lighting a spark in some kindling. A frigid Percy helped her blow it to life as she added more material to the fire. Soon enough the blaze was burning bright. She thawed out her fingers and put her mittens on. "I'll be right back, John. I need to go get the fish," Pocahontas declared, walking back out the mouth of the cavern.

The blizzard was almost in full swing when she left. Pocahontas forced her way through the big snow flurries back to where the bear had dropped the sturgeon. The fish was heavy as she hauled it up off the ground and swung it over her shoulder. She nearly lost her way on the journey back to the cave as the world had turned white. The blinding wind and snow obscured her view of everything. She saw the black hole that made up the cave entrance and stumbled into it, bending low to avoid hitting her head. She dropped the fish by the fire pit and took the rain cover out of her rucksack. "I'm s-s-starting to f-feel warmer," John Rolfe mumbled sleepily. His stuttering was not as bad as before, which was a good sign, but his eyelids fluttered in exhaustion. "S-so tired…" he uttered.

"Don't go to sleep yet, John," Pocahontas firmly told him. "You need to eat something first. I'm afraid you won't wake up if you don't. It's a necessary precaution." The Powhatan princess returned to the mouth of the cavern and covered up the entrance with the big rain cover, tying the ends to protruding rocks on the outside. The cave became far less drafty, improving everybody's comfort. Yet the winds and snow picked up mightily, beating on the makeshift door and making a terrible shuddering sound. Still, the hide stayed in place and provided them protection from the worst ferocity of the storm.

Pocahontas returned to Rolfe's side and retrieved her hunting knife from under the bear's collarbone. She plucked out the arrows and tossed all three items over to the fire pit, positioning the bear so that it was covering Rolfe's right side while his left side was kept warm by the blazing fire. Then she reached into his bedroll, an action Rolfe immediately protested. "Wh-what are y-you doing?!" the Englishman blared, severely embarrassed.

"Give me your hands," Pocahontas instructed. He did and she took them in hers, thinking they still felt very cold. "Can you feel all your fingers and toes?" she inquired.

John Rolfe nodded. "I can now. M-Meeko decided to be my foot warmer." Meeko poked his head out of the bedroll and cooed at Pocahontas. "I f-feel weird having him in here w-with me but it's better than losing my t-t-toes, I suppose," Rolfe added, scratching Meeko on the head. The raccoon cooed again and went back to his foot warming duties.

"Good boy, Meeko," Pocahontas praised. Observing Rolfe, she saw he was still getting chills. She could only guess it was because his head was cold and wet. She pulled his hair strap out and tried wringing out his hair. Very little moisture was left. She warmed up a beaver skin blanket by the fire and wrapped it around Rolfe's head like a turban.

"L-land sakes, that feels good," Rolfe remarked as the comforting heat enveloped him.

Pocahontas smiled. "I'm going to make dinner now. I want you to stay awake until after you've eaten," she ordained. John Rolfe nodded reluctantly. She started cleaning the oversized sturgeon and started fish stew over the fire. While it was cooking, she wrung out and hung up all of Rolfe's wet clothing by the fire. She had to add more sticks to the fire to make it bigger and hotter to dry everything out. John Rolfe had already collected a massive pile of firewood in the cave before he had ever even thought to go fishing.

Pocahontas set the remainder of the sturgeon aside for smoking, suddenly getting an idea. She started to build another fire pit on John Rolfe's other side. When it was ready, she transferred a flame from the first fire to the second. Rolfe glanced over with curiosity on his face. "What are you doing?" he asked. "Why two fires?" His stomach soon began to growl when the scent of fish stew wafted through the air. Even Meeko poked his head out of the bedroll once more, sniffing around. It smelled absolutely delicious.

The wind howled mercilessly outside, the sound making Rolfe shiver once more. "We have a lot of meat that needs smoking," Pocahontas divulged, gesturing to the bear and fish. "I might even have to start a third fire. I doubt I'll be getting much sleep tonight."

John Rolfe frowned. "I'm so s-sorry, Pocahontas. This is all my f-fault. If I had not been foolish enough to get pulled into the water, I'd be able to help you with all this and…" he began but Pocahontas noisily hushed him. She warmed another blanket by the fire and soon enough had exchanged it with the one already wrapped around his head.

"You do not need to be angry at yourself, John. It is thanks to you we have all this meat," Pocahontas told him, caressing his forehead. She bent down and kissed him on the lips.

John Rolfe raised a brow. "But you're the one who caught the bear, not me."

"The smell of the fish attracted the bear," Pocahontas pointed out. "Besides, we'll need to stay here at least another day to smoke all the meat. I will be able to sleep in. There may be a lot for me to do but as long as there is food, I'll have the energy to do it. Don't worry about me. Starvation was my main concern and now my mind is at ease."

John Rolfe slowly nodded. Once the stew was finished, Pocahontas, Rolfe, Meeko, and Percy consumed every last drop of it. Because everyone was so hungry, Pocahontas had to make yet another batch of fish stew. Fortunately, there was plenty of sturgeon to do that with. By the time the second stew was gone, they were all full and satisfied. Rolfe drifted off to sleep, warmed on both sides by the fires and bear carcass.

Pocahontas had many tasks at hand. She turned his clothes around so they would dry on the other side. Then she deboned all the sturgeon meat and dried the bones by the first fire. Using ropes, a blanket, and stalactite columns, she set the fish up to smoke over the second fire. She dragged the bear off of John Rolfe once he was warm enough and maneuvered it on its back to skin and clean the carcass. It was an enormous task for one person, but she took her time with the skinning and gutting. The Powhatan princess saved all the edible organs, including the tongue. Pocahontas set the other bits in the back of the cave for possible later use. Next, she turned John Rolfe's clothes inside out to dry on the inside. She cut all the muscle meat off of the bones and started a third fire where she used the bearskin, ropes, and stalactite columns to set up a smoking station for the raw meat.

DECEMBER 1, 1613

By the time she was done, it was past dawn. Pocahontas went to check on John Rolfe, finding him feverish. It was not too terribly high, likely thanks to the rejuvenating meal he had received. She removed the blanket wrapped around his skull and folded it under his head instead as a pillow. Then she moistened his white handkerchief and put it on his forehead, lying to sleep by him as the meat smoked over the fires surrounding them.

John Rolfe stirred at noon. His groans of discomfort roused Pocahontas in spite of her exhaustion. She propped herself up on an elbow and reached for the handkerchief on his forehead. It was as warm as he was. She took the handkerchief to the mouth of the cave and reached past the barrier, wetting it with snow. When she returned, she put it back on his forehead to his immediate protestations. "No! Too cold!" he cried in a gravelly voice.

"You're too hot, John," Pocahontas countered. "I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable but I have to cool you down." She tried to touch him with the handkerchief again but he hid his head under the covers. Pocahontas placed her hands on her hips. "Don't make me dump snow on your bedroll. I will. I will dump snow on your bedroll, John."

"No! Why are you so mean?!" John Rolfe exclaimed.

Pocahontas rolled her eyes and went to revive the fires from the previous night to allow the meat to finish smoking. When she was done, she took the fish bones and ground them into bone meal. "Time to eat," she announced. "Bear stew it is." She started making the stew, cutting up pieces of smoked bear meat and dropping them in the pot. Meeko and Percy immediately appeared to be very interested, licking their chops.

"I'm not hungry," John Rolfe rasped from under the blankets. "And my head hurts."

Pocahontas stood up to check on the state of Rolfe's clothing. His trousers, knickers, and socks were dry as a bone but the thicker items were still moist. The boots, in particular, were moist on the inside. She hung them upside down over the first fire to dry out better. She took his dry items and dropped them on top of his bedroll, making him grunt. "Some of your clothes are dry, John. You can get partially dressed if you want," she told him.

"Too cold to get out of bed," John Rolfe groaned miserably, slowly and carefully rolling over. The animals were in much higher spirits. Percy was avidly licking and chewing on one of the raw bear bones nearby. Meeko was hanging out by the stew pot, watching and waiting for it to boil. He rubbed his little paws together greedily. Flit buzzed to the mouth of the cave to peek out beyond the rain cover. It was a big wall of snow with little light shining through. They were literally going to have to dig themselves out.

Pocahontas sighed as she tossed powdered fish bones into the stew for added nutrition. "You'll be a little warmer if you put your pants and socks on, John." John Rolfe groaned again and threw the blankets off his head. He tried to sit up, only to find he was too shaky from illness to achieve much of anything as far as getting dressed or even standing up on his feet. Pocahontas rethought her previous proposal. "Never mind, John. You're too sick to get up. Lie down," the Powhatan princess decreed. He all but collapsed in response to her direction. She took the clothes from his bedroll, folded them, and placed them aside for later. Then Pocahontas sat by him and took his head in her hands, massaging it.

"Mm, that's helping," John Rolfe rasped, rolling onto his side. "Thank you, Pocahontas." She ran her hands through his hair, very dry by now, and rubbed his temples in circles. Then the Powhatan woman reached over to her rucksack and pulled out a skin of water. His chest erupted with a severe attack of coarse coughing. It sounded absolutely terrible.

She patted his back hard to help clear the congestion. Eventually, the coughing spell ended. "You sound dehydrated, John. I want you to drink," Pocahontas ordained, bringing the opening to his lips. He reluctantly complied, drinking about half of the skin in total. When the stew was done and tender an hour or two later, she made him consume half a bowl before letting him go back to sleep. She had to spoon-feed it to him because his hands were too shaky to hold either the bowl or the spoon. By sundown, all the meat was done smoking. At that point, Pocahontas took the bearskin and fleshed the inside so she could tan it later. The task took her a couple hours. Once she finished, she laid the skin fur side down over Rolfe's bedroll. The English gentleman greatly enjoyed the warmth but Pocahontas had to confiscate the bearskin a few hours later when his fever spiked.

DECEMBER 2, 1613

Despite John Rolfe's fervent protestations, Pocahontas continued to dab him all over the face, chest, and shoulders with his cold wet handkerchief and she kept doing it until the fever finally broke an hour before sunrise. Even though Rolfe was no longer running a temperature, he still felt sick and shaky. The Powhatan princess knew they would have to delay their travels at least another day. She caught up on her own sleep and then, in the afternoon, she dug her way out of the cave. The snow had to be at least four feet high. That changed when freezing rain started, packing the snow down and turning it into slush. Fortunately, Pocahontas had managed to gather plenty more dead wood directly from the trees with her machete before that happened. It would be enough to keep the fire going, as the second and third fire pits for smoking the meat had been abandoned.

Pocahontas watched from the mouth of the cave at night after the rain stopped. The sky cleared up and the bright moon highlighted the white landscape. It was so cold and the windchill was so intense that she noticed the slush turning into solid ice. The frozen ground gave her an idea. The ice would presumably not melt for a while. Carrying the mountain of smoked meat that they had on their backs would be impractical. Once John Rolfe felt better, she decided she would help him build a sled like the one he had built in the mountains to carry the supplies. Pocahontas had even checked the river, which had frozen over fully. Crossing the wide waterway would be easier now if not a bit hazardous. They would just have to be extra careful not to break through the ice.

DECEMBER 3, 1613

When the sun dawned clear and bright, Pocahontas dared to venture out of the cave. Despite the windchill, she used her machete to harvest several green wood saplings that could be used in making a sled. She returned to the cavern with the wood and dropped it in a pile outside the entrance. Then she went inside to find John Rolfe, Meeko, Percy, and Flit still asleep. Her first task was to make breakfast. She roasted bear meat over the fire. The tasty sizzling scent roused the others. Rolfe woke up feeling a thousand times better than in the two previous days but he came to realize that he was still naked. "Um… Pocahontas? I think I'd like to get dressed now," he announced, enticed by the scent of breakfast. Pocahontas tossed his clothes over to him and positioned herself by the fire such that she was facing away from him. "Right," he said. "Uh, don't turn around." He clambered his way out of the bedroll, shivering in the cold of the cave, and grabbed his knickers. It took him a few minutes to get dressed. Eventually, the diplomat was wearing every scrap of his own clothing again, bundled up like he had been before the great fish fiasco. Rolfe walked right over to the fire and plopped down at Pocahontas's side.

After eating a delicious breakfast together, Pocahontas told him about her idea to build a sled. She brought some of the branches inside. John Rolfe took two long ones and stripped them of their bark. He also used a blade and hammering stone to cut off wood and flatten them on each side, making a pair of runners. The Powhatan princess boiled water over the fire to make it easier to curve the ends upward using the hot steam. Rolfe left the bark on the footboards to make better footing and prevent slippage. He used a blade to carve mortise holes for the stanchions that would hold up the cargo basket. They carved depressions in the wood and used bark and twine to lash the whole thing together. To make a strong quality sled took the whole day. It was well past dark after they had finished. During the day, Pocahontas had collected more firewood from dead trees. That night, they ate a bear stew dinner together and then retired to their bedrolls.

DECEMBER 4, 1613

They ventured out of the cave the next morning, all packed up and ready to go. The bearskin was stretched and tied fur side down over all of their belongings. Pocahontas pushed the sled from behind using the handlebar and John Rolfe pulled it from the front with a rope harness tied around his torso to make the task easier. When they neared the frozen riverbank, they both made a mutual discovery that had them very curious. The fox mask lay frozen several inches below the surface of the ice. John Rolfe used a stone from the cavern to smash the ice and pull it out. The Powhatan woman took one look at the mask and shook her head. "I get a bad feeling about this thing. Can we maybe just leave it here, John?" Pocahontas quickly proposed, gazing at the item worriedly.

John Rolfe frowned. "But it's a work of art. Why would you want to leave it?"

"Because I said so," Pocahontas retorted, furrowing her brows. She took the mask and tossed it aside. It slid on the ice and stopped when it bumped against the trunk of a tree.

John Rolfe pouted but did not want to argue. Pocahontas did not seem to be in much of an argumentative mood either. They continued on their way. Meanwhile, Meeko was lagging behind and caught sight of the mask. It was a source of fascination to him. Wanting to keep it for his tree hole back in the Enchanted Glade, he ran after the others and stuffed it under the bearskin when nobody was paying attention. Pocahontas and John Rolfe were focused on crossing the river. They went as slow as possible to avoid breaking the ice.

At one point, in the middle of the river, they heard a crack and froze in an instant. John Rolfe proposed crawling on hands and knees to spread out the pressure on the ice. They did so and soon made it across in one piece. The whipping winds chapped their faces, so Pocahontas showed John Rolfe how to put bear grease on his face to protect it from the weather. Aside from the winds, the weather was mild and they traveled a great distance.

DECEMBER 5, 1613

The next day, the wind was mild. There was a beautiful snowfall that Pocahontas and Rolfe greatly enjoyed. Once the ground was coated with snow again, it was easier to travel. Whenever they were heading downhill in a fairly treeless area, they mounted the sled and slid down as opposed to expending energy walking down one footstep at a time.

…

DECEMBER 6, 1613

The day after that was warm. Much of the snow melted, creating a watery slush. The slush was a bit harder to move through but they were still able to manage it.

DECEMBER 7, 1613

Everything changed on the evening of the next day following. Yet another terrible snowstorm blew up and Pocahontas, John Rolfe, Meeko, Percy, and Flit were unable to find a suitable cave in time to avoid it. The group had to settle for a large hollow at the bottom of a massive tree which did not provide ample space for a fire. Fortunately, there was a giant pile of dry autumn leaves which provided a buffer from the cold hard ground. They were forced to eat cold smoked bear meat and huddle together in the dark for warmth the whole night. It was a fairly miserable experience but at least they survived it to travel onward when the golden sunrise finally arrived the next morning.

DECEMBER 8, 1613

Fresh powder made pulling the sled easier but the sky was still clouded the following day. It left Pocahontas and John Rolfe worried that they might get caught in another storm. Their predictions came true that late afternoon when some fierce winds blew up, forcing them to stop and look for shelter. The first place they found was a wide-mouthed cave at the bottom of a cliff overlooking a ravine. Only a small frozen stream ran nearby. They could see little fish swimming beneath the ice. The size of the cave was fortunate because they were able to pull the whole sled inside rather than just crawl in themselves.

The first thing John Rolfe did was build a fire pit. He had been insightful enough to have brought a pile of firewood on the sled since he knew it would be difficult and dangerous to find it in an emergency situation like a blizzard. That meant he was able to build a fire and thaw some of the frozen bear meat for them to eat. As before, Pocahontas stretched the rain cover over the broad entrance. It was not big enough to cover the whole mouth of the cave but it prevented the majority of the wintry winds from penetrating the interior.

Pocahontas was making bear and fishbone stew over the fire when John Rolfe thought he heard something over the whistling winds outside. It initially sounded like a whinny and caused the inquisitive diplomat to jump to his feet. Pocahontas glanced at him, not having heard the noise over the crackling of the fire. "John, what is it?" she inquired worriedly.

"I thought I heard a horse," John Rolfe replied, pausing. "You don't think it could be…?"

Pocahontas raised a brow. "You're probably just hearing things in the wind. I don't want you to go out there, John," she expressed, reaching up and tugging on his wrist to get him to sit back down. "The storm is too fierce. You nearly froze to death once already."

John Rolfe took hold of her hand and bent down to kiss it. Then he patted the back of it. "Don't you worry, my love. I'll just go have a peek. If it is Juanito, I'd worry that he would freeze out there all by himself. Like I have said before, he's not exactly of sound mind. What kind of logical person would leave a group to travel by themselves in this type of weather anyway?" Pocahontas still felt worried as John Rolfe wandered over to the mouth of the cave. He untied one corner of the rain cover to glance out into the white world beyond. The snow was so thick in the air, one could hardly see inches in front of one's face. But he heard the noise again, louder this time. "Hello?!" he called out into the storm, though his voice was quickly lost to the gale. The English gentleman glanced back at Pocahontas. "I'll be right back," John Rolfe said with a look of determination.

Pocahontas was having none of it. She grabbed a hold of the back of his waist sash as he tried to crawl out of the cave, pulling him back in. He stumbled and landed on his rear end in the autumn leaves that had collected inside. "Oh no, you don't! John, you can't see a thing out there. Even if it is Juanito, he deserves to freeze for what he did."

John Rolfe frowned and stood up, dusting himself off. "Maybe he does but poor Ciceron most certainly does not!" he protested. "Come on, Pocahontas. I'll be careful. I swear to you that I heard a horse's whinny! The animal sounded distressed. Surely, you wouldn't ignore a cry for help, Pocahontas. Even if it is just a horse," he contended.

Pocahontas still did not look convinced he had heard anything at all. But she could see he could not be dissuaded from venturing outside of the cave. She sighed and trod over to the sled, shuffling through their belongings. John Rolfe watched in curious silence until she returned with a rope and tied it around his waist. "This is so you won't get lost in that pall. And if you collapse I'll hopefully be able to pull you back in. You have one minute to find whatever it is your looking for. Understand?" she replied in an authoritative tone.

"Fine," John Rolfe conceded. The resolute Englishman nudged his way past Pocahontas as she held onto the rope and crawled out of the shelter into the white beyond. As he moved farther away from the shelter, she gave the rope more slack and counted down from sixty in her head. Eventually, she reached the end of the rope as well as the end of the sixty-second countdown. She started yanking on the rope to let him know it was time to turn back. But he resisted. She pulled harder to let him know that staying out there was not an option. He struggled against her pulling until the rope suddenly went slack. She pulled it all the way back only to realize John Rolfe was no longer attached to it.

A jolt of fear struck her heart. She poked her head out of the shelter and called out, "John Rolfe! John Rolfe, get back here!" Hearing no response, she started to panic. She tied one end of the rope around her waist and the other end onto a protruding stone at the edge of the cave's mouth. Taking a deep breath, she ventured out into the blizzard. She held her hand in front of her face as the ice-cold wind made her cheeks sting despite the protective layer of bear grease. It was hard to breathe, let alone call the Englishman's given name. She wandered farther and farther from the cave, groping around wildly. Just when she was about to lose hope entirely, a mitten-covered hand grabbed a hold of her own. "John!" she cried, both angrily and in relief. She took him firmly by the arm and led the way back to the cave, pushing the whipping rain cover aside to allow them entrance. But Rolfe stopped at the mouth of the cave and untied another corner of the rain cover, pulling it aside and exposing the interior of the cave to the harsh blizzard. Pocahontas shielded her face from the storm. "John Rolfe, what do you think you're doing?! Are you crazy? You…" the Powhatan princess quickly admonished, cracking an eye open just in time to see a snow-white mare enter the cave beside a snow-covered diplomat.

The beautiful horse ducked her head to get past the mouth and wandered inside, shaking the snow off of her thick winter coat. She was wearing both saddle and bridle but there was no sign of a rider anywhere. Pocahontas was stunned. Meanwhile, John Rolfe took hold of the thrashing rain cover and tied the corners back in place. The feat required more than just a little bit of effort but it effectively blocked out the abuse from the storm. The English gentleman collapsed in a pile of snowy autumn leaves a moment later, panting to catch his breath. "Yikes, I thought I was going to die out there," he uttered.

It took Pocahontas all of ten seconds to get over her shock at the sight of the mare before she turned on John Rolfe with a dangerous look in her eye. "John, I swear if you ever do anything like that again, I'll…" the Powhatan woman began, distracted when Meeko poked his head out of the same pile of autumn leaves that Rolfe was sitting on. He ran through Pocahontas's legs, nearly causing her to lose her balance, and wandered up to the horse. As the mare lowered her head to munch on some leaves, the raccoon curiously poked at her big nostrils and caused her to sneeze all over him. The sound rattled the cave. Rolfe let out a few chuckles of amusement, but Pocahontas saw red. She stomped over to the Englishman and grabbed his hand, yanking him to his feet. "John, what in the world were you thinking?!" Pocahontas raged. "You could have died out there!"

John Rolfe shrunk away, gritting his teeth at the shrill sound of her voice. He had never seen her so angry before. His face flushed. "P-Pocahontas, I'm sorry! It's just… I knew there was a horse out there and I had run out of slack and you wouldn't stop pulling and…" the diplomat tried meekly to explain in a faltering voice. Percy whined nearby and cowered behind the sled with Flit, both thankful that Pocahontas's temper was not directed at them. Even Meeko frowned and hid behind the horse's front legs, absolutely thrilled not to be in the brash Englishman's shoes at that very moment.

"You risked your life for a horse! A horse, John! She's a beautiful horse but she's still just a horse! You could've died if I hadn't found you! What were you thinking? No seriously, what insanity was going through your head that possessed you to untie the rope around your waist? Huh?! Answer me!" Pocahontas charged, backing him up against the wall.

John Rolfe could do nothing but stare back at her through wide terrified eyes. He had no answer for her and he knew it. Pocahontas knew it as well. For intuitive reasons he could not explain, the English gentleman had felt confident somehow that he could make it back to the cave without the rope. Of course, he knew she would accept no such excuse so he did not even try to offer one. His face turned even redder as the awkward silence grew between them and her glare continued, unabated. Finally, John Rolfe could stand it no longer. He began weakly, "Pocahontas, I'm sorry but… c-can we perhaps continue this conversation after I've tended the horse? It's just that she needs help and…"

"NO!" Pocahontas roared, grabbing him by the wrist again. She tugged him over to the fire and pushed him down to sit by it. "I will tend to the horse. You can just sit there and think until you have an answer for me. Do not you dare get up!" The furious young woman turned on a heel and headed over to the mare, using angry jerking movements as she unstrapped the horse's saddle and yanked it off. She took off the mare's bridle and saddle blanket as well, brushed the snow off her coat, and raked together a nice bed of autumn leaves for her like she had seen John Rolfe do for Ciceron. The mare appeared appreciative as she lay down on the bed of leaves, eating some in the process. The fuming Powhatan princess gave her a nice pat on the neck and returned to the fire in silence.

John Rolfe sat by the fireside anxiously the whole time, observing her. He was shaking slightly and nearly jumped a foot in the air when Meeko came over and placed a sympathetic paw on his knee. He could not even muster a small comforting smile for the raccoon to let Meeko know that he was alright. The Englishman had not been shouted like that since he was a small child. His usual response then was to cry to show his mother just how sorry he was, but he could not very well do that now. Rolfe was a grown man and he could just not bear to imagine how Pocahontas might respond if he broke into tears simply because she had hollered at him. John Rolfe sat in nervous silence, eyes downcast, as Pocahontas served the stew that had been cooking over the flames. They ate in silence and then went to bed without speaking a word to each other.

DECEMBER 9, 1613

In the morning, John Rolfe was just as apprehensive as he had been the night before—if not even more so. He had dreamt of nothing but the greatest follies of his childhood all night long and all the trouble he had gotten into for them. None of them were pleasant memories and the English gentleman tried his best to shake the troubling thoughts off when he awoke as opposed to dwelling on them. But that was a difficult task.

Pocahontas never asked for an explanation again, which was a great relief to John Rolfe, despite the fact that he had spent the entire evening and morning trying to come up with a decent excuse should he be asked. He went over to tend to the mare while Pocahontas was making breakfast, using an oversized pinecone to brush her white fur. "I wonder what your name is," he whispered so Pocahontas could not hear. He had almost gotten the sense that he was forbidden from speaking after the dreaded mistake he had made.

The mare poked her nose to the saddle and Rolfe walked over to investigate it. 'Snow Angel' was the name written on the front of the saddle seat. What a perfect name, Rolfe thought. He returned to Snow Angel's side, telling her by telepathy what a pretty name she had. "Breakfast is ready," Pocahontas blurted. Rolfe jumped nearly ten feet in the air.

The British diplomat returned to the fire and ate some of the fish stew that Pocahontas had prepared. When they were done eating, they packed up and took the sled and Snow Angel outside. John Rolfe's face turned red and he avoided eye contact when the time finally came that he had to speak. "Um, so, I th-thought it might be a good idea for Snow Angel to pull the sled and I will ride on her back while you, Meeko, Percy, and Flit ride on the sled. Does that sound okay to you, love?" he uttered, rubbing his arm.

"Snow Angel?" Pocahontas repeated.

"Yes, that's the mare's name. It says so on her saddle," John Rolfe quickly replied.

Pocahontas smiled slightly, not that John Rolfe witnessed the act. "Snow Angel is a lovely name for her." The Englishman nodded without glancing at the Powhatan princess, tying the sled securely to Snow Angel's saddle straps using a series of ropes. He was about to mount the mare when he felt a hand on his waist sash, preventing him from climbing up. Peering back nervously, he found Pocahontas was gazing up at him with an unreadable expression. "John," she spoke, "you know the only reason I yelled at you yesterday is because I love you. You scared the hell out of me. If I had not shouted at you after that foolish thing you did, it would've meant I didn't care. You know that."

John Rolfe blinked and raised a brow. "Oh? Yes, I know. Forget about it, dear."

She pulled him in for an embrace and kissed him on the lips. "Let's get going."

…

DECEMBER 12, 1613

It was three days of alternating sunny and cloudy weather before Pocahontas, John Rolfe, and the others began running low on food again. Rolfe estimated that they had three days' worth if they conserved. Pocahontas began to grind the bear bones, stretching out their supply another day or two with bone meal. Yet, still, she began looking for new game animals as they traveled each day. There were no more signs of bear, as they had gone into hibernation for the winter. Pocahontas and Rolfe spotted occasional deer tracks, but the deer always ran at the sound of Snow Angel's hoof clops. At one point, they came upon another frozen river. Rolfe used a big rock to smash his way through the ice. He used his bone hook and a piece of dried sturgeon gut as bait to fish in the river. However, this time he caught nothing but two fish only big enough for one person each. It was a modest meal, but they wanted to conserve the smoked meat as much as possible.

DECEMBER 15, 1613

Three days after that, their food supply had run out again. Despite all of Pocahontas's hunting attempts, she had no success. The group was forced to go three whole days without food again. It severely wore them down. The only ones who did not go hungry were Flit and Snow Angel as there was still plenty of wild honey and dried winter vegetation. Their hunger only slowed them down a little since the mare was doing most of the work. But they were still getting desperate, especially when the cold worsened.

DECEMBER 18, 1613

Things were made ten times worse when, on the third day of famine, another terrible storm blew up. It came on so fast that the white snow flurries acted as an impediment to finding shelter. They wandered through the blizzard for half an hour. They were on the verge of collapse when the snow let up just enough that the Englishman could spot puffs of smoke over the trees. "Fire?" Rolfe uttered through severely chapped lips.

"John, I can't go on!" Pocahontas called to him over the wind from the sled. Snow Angel was completely exhausted and beginning to stumble through the thick white powder.

John Rolfe glanced back, squinting his eyes against the wind. He saw Pocahontas fall right off the back of the sled, collapsing into the snow. The Englishman signaled the horse to stop and climbed down, wading through the snow until he got back to her. With immense effort, he lifted her up and carried her to the horse. He hefted her up onto Snow Angel's back and took the reins, leading them through the snow on foot. The snow thickened again. The freezing diplomat kept heading straight in the direction he had seen the smoke. They walked over a frozen tributary with Snow Angel nearly slipping on the ice. Rolfe ran to her far side to help support her against the wind, nearly falling over himself. They made it across the tributary and found their way into the shelter of dense forest trees again, which only shielded them from some of the wind. The snow was still falling thick, making it difficult to see anything at all in front of their faces.

Still, John Rolfe led the way onward. After nearly a hundred paces, he collided with something that stood in his way and fell back on his rear end into the snow. Pocahontas witnessed this indignity and she dismounted the horse to help him. When she peered up, the flurries of snow drifted aside just enough for her to set eyes on what it was that John Rolfe had run into. The sight nearly stole the breath from her lungs and she stared at it, wide-eyed. "John!" she bellowed over the storm. "I recognize that totem pole!"