The Adventures of Pocahontas and John Rolfe: Book I
Chapter 23: Homecoming
"Aunt Oppusquinuske, open up!" Pocahontas shouted as she banged on the longhouse door. "It's me, Pocahontas! Please let us in!" Her voice was lost to the winds but she hoped her fist's impact on the door could be heard from the interior. John Rolfe stood by Snow Angel, holding onto her reins in the deepening snow. It was up to his knees already and getting higher. Seconds later, the door swung open to the home's toasty interior.
Pocahontas's welcomer was hardly able to see her as snow drifted in and obscured the view. The Powhatan princess pushed her way past the doorframe, causing a little avalanche of snow to spill into the large chamber. The first thing Pocahontas saw was the children seated around the central fire pit. She immediately came over and shooed them away from the left side of the hearth to make room for Snow Angel. "I need you to move, sweetie. Yes, you too. Hurry, it's cold out there!" Pocahontas announced.
Once the children were out of the way, Pocahontas returned to the doorway and reached outside to grab hold of John Rolfe's hand. She pulled him inside. The tired Englishman practically collapsed the moment he got past the barrier of snow, releasing his hold on Snow Angel's reins. Pocahontas grabbed a hold of them and gently beckoned the skittish mare forward as an exhausted diplomat unsteadily crawled out of the way. There were many squeals of fright as the enormous animal entered the longhouse. Some of the young children tried to hide while the adults present were totally taken aback at the sight.
Once Snow Angel was in, Pocahontas untied the ropes binding her to the sled that was already half buried in the snow. Against the howling storm, she made her way over to the cargo again and pulled back the bearskin. Meeko, Percy, and Flit were huddled together, shivering. Pocahontas took Flit and stuffed him gently down the neck of her coat. She picked Meeko up in one arm and Percy in the other and turned tail, pushing her way past the doorframe again. Once they were all inside the longhouse, two warriors immediately got to work brushing the spilled snow aside so that the door could be closed tight again.
"Who are you?" came a familiar female voice from across the fire as soon as the door was shut. The dialect was one of Western Powhatan, also known as Matticox. While most Powhatan speakers needed a translator, Pocahontas had spent part of her childhood in this very village and, therefore, knew the language well. The chieftess stood up from her raised seat to get a better view of the strange visitors who had just arrived in her home.
Putting Meeko and Percy down, Pocahontas undid the buttons on the front of her coat and pulled back her hood. She shook the icicles out of her hair and took a deep breath like she had been deprived of oxygen for a while, her lungs relieved from pain by the warm air inside the building. "It's me, Aunt Oppusquinuske—Pocahontas. Thank you so much for letting us in! We nearly died out there," she replied, unbuttoning the fur coat. Flit buzzed out of the opening and flew all around the room, getting a good look at everyone present.
Meeko and Percy began thawing their frozen paws by the fire. Meanwhile, John Rolfe rose to his feet and brushed the snow off the white mare's back. He removed her saddle and bridle, stuffing them under one of the benches, before signaling her to lie down by the fire. Once she was resting on the floor, the children's fear eased as Snow Angel no longer towered above them in such a terrifying manner. While none of them dared approach her, they did watch her with fascination. The chieftess gasped, hardly taking notice of the mare as her eyes widened in shock at the sight of her beloved niece. She bolted over to Pocahontas and hurriedly began examining the young princess for injuries. "Oh, my dear Pocahontas, we were all led to believe the worst! What happened to you? Your poor father, does he know you are alive yet? Where've you been?" Oppusquinuske exclaimed, taking one of Pocahontas's hands in hers. "Your fingers are like ice!"
Whispers of curiosity and amazement were heard around the room. Oppusquinuske shot a glance at the whispering women on the benches. "Don't just sit there! Get up and help my niece remove her overclothes! Mind you, this is Chief Powhatan's dearest daughter," she chided. The women snapped to attention and hopped up as the chieftess turned to one of her own daughters. "Winona," she spoke, addressing the girl on the floor to the right of the hearth, "serve them some of the venison stew." She returned her gaze to Pocahontas as the women helped her remove her winter wear. "My dear, you must be starved. If I'd known you were coming, I would've at least prepared a modest feast," she expressed.
"We are starved!" Pocahontas confirmed. "It's been three days since we last had anything to eat. You have no idea what we've been through, Aunt. Believe me, it's a long story!" She lifted one of her feet as the women helped her out of her big furry snow boots and pants. She felt much relieved to be free of them after being wrapped up for so long.
The women prepared sitting mats and cushions before the central fire, close to the throne. Pocahontas and the chieftess sat on them. The former continued to speak with her aunt as John Rolfe finished tending to the horse. When he was done, he unbuttoned his coat and pulled down the hood. "Psst, Pocahontas," he whispered, bashful about interrupting the conversation. The poor exhausted mare needed something to eat and drink though.
"White man!" one young warrior blared in Matticox, pointing straight at him.
Every eye in the room turned on John Rolfe and the whisperings began. His face went from white to red. He crept behind Snow Angel, very self-conscious of his own presence in a room of people completely unlike himself. "Did I do something wrong?" Rolfe murmured to Pocahontas. "Please, Pocahontas, tell them I meant no offense."
"You're fine, John," Pocahontas replied. She turned to address everyone in the room, her aunt in particular, switching back to Matticox. "His name is John Rolfe. He has been traveling with me. After we've eaten, I'd be pleased to tell you all the story." She glanced at Rolfe again, patting the cushion on her left. "Take off your snow clothes and sit."
Pocahontas's cousin Winona filled four bowls. She gave one to Pocahontas and placed the second by John Rolfe's cushion. The third and fourth went to Meeko and Percy. Both animals hungrily gobbled up their portions. "Pocahontas, ask them to get Snow Angel something to eat and drink. Perhaps she might like maize? It's worth a try," Rolfe spoke, removing his coat. He kicked his boots off and took off the snow pants as well.
Pocahontas returned her attention to Oppusquinuske. "We need some maize kernels in a basket and a pot of water for the large animal. Her name is Snow Angel and she's carried us very far to get here. She is just as exhausted as we are if not more so."
Oppusquinuske nodded and signaled a young warrior in the back nearest the food supply. Meanwhile, John Rolfe sat beside Pocahontas and began to inhale his bowl of stew at a speed to rival Meeko's abilities. Pocahontas did the same. The attention of all the men, women, and children in the longhouse was torn between Rolfe and Snow Angel during the meal. Once both humans and animals were fed and watered, the children gathered around Pocahontas as she began her tale. Naturally, she started with their time in London.
John Rolfe, not understanding a word, started to teeter in place as his severe exhaustion finally started to catch up with him. Pocahontas's eleven-year-old cousin Keegsquaw briefly interrupted the story when she raised a finger and pointed toward John Rolfe. "Cousin Amonute, that man looks like he wants to take a nap." Meeko, Percy, and Flit were already fast asleep themselves. Meeko and Flit had curled up in a basket on a high shelf, whereas the small pug dog had passed out in front of the warm cozy fire.
Pocahontas smiled lightly, reminded of her childhood in the village by Keegsquaw's use of her birth name. She glanced to the side and noticed John Rolfe was lurching. One of his eyes was closed and the other was barely cracked halfway open. The Powhatan princess turned her attention to the women on the benches near the throne. "Prepare him a bed, please," she requested. No sooner had she spoken the words than they went to work putting together a pile of skins and furs on one of the benches lining the longhouse.
Pocahontas put a hand on John Rolfe's knee, causing him to wake up and jump in alarm. "What?!" he cried. "I'm up, I'm up!" His emerald eyes darted around in disorientation.
"John," Pocahontas said softly, pointing him toward the fleshly-made bed. "Go to sleep."
John Rolfe pushed himself sluggishly to his feet and all but collapsed on the furs and skins that had been laid out for his use. He was asleep before one of the women could even lay a blanket over him. Pocahontas returned to her storytelling endeavor. By the time she was done, it was late evening and her audience sat in stunned silence. "That is most extraordinary," Oppusquinuske finally spoke. "So you will be able to reestablish peace with the settlers near Werowocomoco? The latest news we heard from the great chief was that tensions had risen suddenly. We have all been very worried."
"They have?" Pocahontas inquired. "What has happened?"
A middle-aged warrior raised his hand. "Great Oppusquinuske, may I speak?"
The chieftess nodded and turned to Pocahontas. "Nootau, our greatest warrior here, was in Werowocomoco not but a few days ago. He spoke to your father directly. Therefore he can tell you more than I," Oppusquinuske explained as the warrior stepped forward.
Nootau cleared his throat, preparing to recount his knowledge both to Pocahontas and the rest of the room. "What our great chief told me is that the white settlers in the village known as Jamestown put minimal effort this year into growing crops. They claim that they were expecting a boat to arrive with extra supplies in the fall. That boat—the one you may have been on, Pocahontas—never did arrive. As a result, the palefaces beseeched our chief to trade food for various other goods so that the settlement could survive the winter. On account of the bad drought we've had, Powhatan was forced to refuse lest our own people go hungry. The palefaces then threatened our chi—" Nootau explained, soon to be cut off by a loud gasp coming from the young Powhatan princess.
"Whoa, whoa! Back up, Nootau. Did you say 'drought'?" Pocahontas blurted, her face full of shock and worry. "I had meant to inquire upon the state of this year's harvest."
All the faces in the room turned woeful. "I am afraid this was a very bad harvest year, Pocahontas," spoke the chieftess. "We grew nowhere near the excesses of previous years. Indeed, we suffered a very dry summer. If we conserve, we should have enough to see us through. You did not miss much this fall. There were no major harvest celebrations, very little dancing and hardly any singing. I worry now that our survival depends upon the white men from across the salt water not carrying out their threat to rob us."
Pocahontas frowned. "They've never done that before."
Nootau raised a finger once again and Chieftess Oppusquinuske signaled him to speak. "Powhatan and the elders of Werowocomoco approached the whites during the spring planting. He advised them to follow the Powhatan example and begin their planting early. But they were lazy. They made excuses. The troubles they have now are no one's fault but theirs and now it seems they intend to make our people suffer for their mistakes. We cannot afford to give them our maize this year, we simply don't have enough. If you can find a way to solve this problem, Pocahontas, then may the Great Spirit be your guide and benefactor. You might just save us all," Nootau expressed, a solemn look on his face.
"I'll do absolutely everything I can," Pocahontas swore. She sighed, shooting a glance at John Rolfe lying on the bed. Only his hair and hand were visible. Oppusquinuske put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. "This is very troubling indeed. After all John and I have been through, the last thing we were hoping for was trouble brewing at home."
Meeko and Flit woke up, feeling a chill from being too far away from the fire. Meeko climbed down from the high shelf, spotting John Rolfe asleep on a bed. He cooed happily and jumped on the bed, burrowing his way beneath the blankets. Flit darted down to make a nest out of the Englishman's tousled hair. The youngest children in the room all saw this and started yawning. "It is the children's bedtime," the chieftess announced. Several of the adults rose to their feet and got to work putting the kids to bed.
Pocahontas yawned too, covering her mouth. "I'm pretty tired myself," she said, hearing a light whinnying snore to her far left. She soon discovered Snow Angel snoozing away.
Oppusquinuske took a gentle hold of Pocahontas's wrist. "Before you retire, my dear, I need to speak with you in private. Briefly, if I may." Pocahontas nodded and rose to her feet along with her aunt. The chieftess dismissed the small crowd and they began to disperse, moving along to their own rooms farther down the longhouse. Oppusquinuske led the Powhatan princess over to her throne. She sat down and signaled Pocahontas to sit beside her, the seat being big enough for at least three grown women. The chieftess was silent as she glanced in the direction of the sleeping Englishman. Her eyes flashed with something that Pocahontas could not quite place when their gazes met again. Chieftess Oppusquinuske appeared hesitant to begin the talk, pursing her lips in thought.
"What is it, Aunt? Is everything alright?" Pocahontas asked, rubbing her eyes.
Oppusquinuske hesitated just a moment longer before a look of resolve overcame her wise aged features. "Tell me, Pocahontas," the older woman whispered, leaning toward her niece. "Did you indeed tell the whole story in front of the others? I'm just concerned that… Well, I don't mean to sound suspicious and forgive me if I'm wrong but I'm curious as to the nature of your relationship with the young white man you brought."
Pocahontas's face flushed red the moment she was reminded of just how perceptive her aunt was. It was one of the things that had made her a great weroansqua, as she had an intuitive sense about people's intentions. She had avoided an enemy ambush under the facade of a friendly diplomatic meeting once when she sensed something in the foreign chief's face indicating latent aggression. When the attack came, her warriors were prepared. They killed the enemies and took the double-crosser hostage, effectively annexing his tribe into the Powhatan confederation. Pocahontas soon returned a nervous simper. "How did you figure it out?" she whispered back to her aunt.
"Pocahontas, what are you thinking?! You are the great chief's virgin daughter and yet you think it wise to take a white man as your lover? Or any man, for that matter! You will shame your poor father. He has been through enough, thinking you were dead!"
Pocahontas's eyes widened. "What? Lover? Oh no, Aunt! No, you've got me all wrong. John Rolfe is the man I intend to marry. He would never dishonor a woman out of wedlock. I swear on the spirit of my mother, he hasn't laid a finger on me," she replied.
Surprise flashed across the chieftess's face before she slapped a hand to her chest, a look of relief falling over her. "Oh, thank the spirits. Child, you had me so worried with the secrecy of it all. If you intend to marry him, why did you not announce it to the others? He does love you, does he not? You told us how he repeatedly risked his life for you."
"Of course, he does! But you mustn't tell anyone," Pocahontas urged. "We did not announce it because we do not have Father's permission yet to wed. I worry how Father would feel about me marrying someone other than a warrior. John thinks we should wait. He wants to give Father time to get to know him first before dumping such startling news on him." Pocahontas gasped as something occurred to her. "You don't think anyone else figured it out as I was telling the story, do you? Rumors are the last thing we need!"
Oppusquinuske shook her head. "No, I don't think anyone has a clue. You've given them the impression he is no more than friend and bodyguard to you," she returned. She brought a hand to her chin, thinking a moment. "You know, normally I would not condone withholding such information from your father for any amount of time. But your John has a point. Knowing the great chief—and knowing myself were I in his position—it would be better if you don't drop this on him before peace with the settlers has been reestablished."
Pocahontas smiled. "So you'll keep our secret?" she asked.
The chieftess nodded. "Yes. But I certainly do hope you will have told him by spring at the latest. If he consents, I expect to receive an invitation to the wedding forthwith."
Pocahontas leaned in and embraced her aunt, who returned the affection. "Thank you so much, Aunt Oppusquinuske. I will fight for peace with the settlers and I won't rest until we have it. Neither John nor I will rest until all is well again, I swear it."
When they drew back, the chieftess brushed a knuckle over Pocahontas's chin. "I know you've heard this a million times, my dear, but you are so much like Nonoma. I miss her terribly. She was my dearest sister," Oppusquinuske nostalgically expressed.
Pocahontas smiled. "I know. I miss her too. But she was with me throughout my travels. If her spirit had abandoned us, we never would have made it back here," she confessed.
"I have no doubt. Now, I must talk to the elders," Oppusquinuske replied, speaking in a normal voice again. She gestured to an unoccupied bed on the benches. It was across the room from Rolfe's bed. "The women have made up a place for you. Sleep well. We shall discuss future plans first thing in the morning," she finished as Pocahontas rose.
The young woman nodded, covering up another yawn. She scooped a snoozing Percy up from his spot beside the fire and wandered over to her bed, flopping down on her back in the soft furs. With the pug snuggled on her chest, the Powhatan princess pulled the beaver skin blanket over them both and then drifted off to dreams of the future.
…
DECEMBER 19, 1613
Having fallen asleep much earlier, John Rolfe woke up before Pocahontas. Some of the locals were still abed when he arose whereas others were awake and preparing breakfast, among other things. He yawned and tried to sit up in bed, only to discover that Meeko was curled up under the blankets with him. The moment Rolfe moved, the raccoon roused and poked his head out of the covers. "Good morning, Meeko," Rolfe greeted in a sleepy voice. When he tried to run his fingers through his messy hair, Flit flew out of it and glanced around. The hummingbird then darted over to Pocahontas's bed and chirped, trying to rouse her. "Flit, let her sleep. I'm sure that she's exhausted," he spoke, sitting up in bed. He squeezed his eyes shut and stretched. When the English gentleman opened them again, he noticed several curious pairs of eyes peering at him.
Three women and two girls sat around the fire gazing at John Rolfe, four of whom he vaguely recognized from the previous night. They had been preparing the morning meal before Rolfe had reminded them of his presence. They stared at him and he stared back at them awkwardly for a few moments until the youngest girl broke the silence. "Wingapi."
John Rolfe raised a brow. The word sounded just like Pocahontas's Powhatan greeting 'Wingapo,' albeit pronounced differently. "Wingapi?" he repeated. The girl grabbed a plate and put a roast turkey leg and some corn fritters on it. She hopped up and ran over to Rolfe, giving him the plate. He glanced at the food on the ceramic dish and accepted it.
"Hun ootanemuscande qwagoarepoest?" the girl inquired.
It sounded like a question but Rolfe did not comprehend any of the words. Fortunately, Pocahontas had taught him the translation for 'I don't understand.' "Mattaquenatorath," he replied, looking nervous. John Rolfe felt awkward and started to wish Pocahontas was awake so she could act as a translator. Still, he did not want to disturb her.
The little girl gave him a questioning look and then patted his knee. "Winsouse," she concluded. She pointed at him. "Jahn Ralfe." Then she pointed at herself. "Keegsquaw."
"Keegsquaw?" John Rolfe repeated, understanding that to be her name.
Keegsquaw nodded fervently and turned, gesturing to the slightly older girl who looked much like her. John Rolfe could only assume they were sisters. "Winona," she indicated. Then she named the three women as well, pointing to each in turn, "Kanti, Odina, Hurit."
"Winona, Kanti, Odina, Hurit," John Rolfe repeated, glancing at each female as he spoke her name. He was rather relieved that the names were fairly short and easy to pronounce.
Keegsquaw giggled. "Winsouse! Egenatorath oobun," she blurted, hustling back to the fire. She plopped down by Winona and started stuffing her face with corn fritters.
As John Rolfe sat there and ate his morning meal, he was able to truly scrutinize his surroundings for the first time. He had simply been too exhausted and distracted to do so the night before. The interior of the longhouse was impressively large. Rolfe judged that the peak of the arched ceiling had to be at least twenty feet high, with a round smoke hole over the central hearth that spanned about two to three feet in diameter. The architecture was supported by one-foot diameter poles reaching all the way up to the ceiling.
The frame of the domicile was built of long saplings that were lashed together with young tree bark. Large squares and rectangles of thick birchbark covered the walls in layered shingles. John Rolfe assumed that they acted as insulation for the interior. Benches lined the walls, all covered with reed mats, skins, and furs for comfort. They were built like bunk beds with another layer overhead that looked strong enough to support sleeping human beings. A diagonal notched tree trunk created a narrow stairway leading up to the top bunks. Currently, the top bunks were being used to store various items including skins, furs, clothing, firewood, food, pots, and baskets.
The most striking thing about the longhouse was the throne of the leader. It consisted of a bench raised higher than the others at the far end of the room, draped with skins that served as paint canvases for a series of interesting but simplistic pictograms. John Rolfe recognized the central shape as the sun. Surrounding it was a blue sky, which rose high over the green and brown earth and all the trees and plants that grew thereupon. There were other skins and furs draped over various other walls, including one behind John Rolfe himself, which presented anthropomorphic shapes in the designs.
In contrast, the floor of the longhouse was nothing special. It was just plain flat dirt over which mats and cushions were placed for sitting. As John Rolfe's eyes scanned the floor, something appeared to be missing. Suddenly he heard a whinny from outside and he jumped to his feet just as the door creaked open. More sunlight flooded into the room as an elder woman he recognized from the night before stepped in. She was impressively dressed in dyed skins and a heavy black bear fur cloak. It was fur-side in and the inner skin faced outward, painted with symbols. She wore the skin from the bear's head and face as a separate hood. It was decorated with long brown feathers, which she removed the moment she entered the warm space. A copper crown sat on her head underneath. Rolfe knew as soon as he saw her that she had to be the queen of the village, if not several villages. His face flushed a bit, unsure of how to properly address her.
Once she had removed her cloak and draped it over an armrest on her throne, she turned to him and smiled. She looked young for an elder with minimal wrinkles and polished white teeth. Pronounced cheekbones set high on her face gave her a regal air, though her dark brown eyes were warm and welcoming just like Pocahontas's. John Rolfe's anxieties about meeting her vanished when she greeted him. "Wingapi, Jahn Ralfe," she said.
His plate empty, John Rolfe set it aside and bowed to her. "Wingapi," he returned.
The Englishman could have sworn he saw an amused smirk on her face as she wandered over to one of the shelves which held her personal items. A few moments later, he was presented with a hairbrush similar to the one from the Gunalo village. But the handle was intricately carved and painted on this one, which made sense given that it obviously belonged to royalty. John Rolfe's face flushed when he realized the state of his hair. He smiled his appreciation and quickly began brushing it out, tying it back with his usual hair strap when he was done. The British gentleman pulled the matted auburn hair out of the brush for the sake of etiquette and returned the item to its royal owner.
When the queen joined the women at the fire, John Rolfe tiptoed over to the door and cracked it open to peek outside. The warriors had apparently risen early to shovel all the paths in the village. Some were still at work but the walkway from the longhouse was clear enough. Rolfe was about to step outside when he realized he had no shoes on. He found his boots and snow pants beneath his bunk and put them on. Stepping outside, he whistled for Snow Angel. The pretty white horse walked right up to greet him, chewing a small bundle of snow-laced hay in her mouth. "Hello, lovely girl. Would you like to go explore a bit this morning? We could pass some time since Pocahontas is still sleeping," John Rolfe proposed, stroking and nuzzling her soft white nose. Meeko climbed down from a nearby tree and hopped onto Snow Angel's hindquarters, looking excited at the prospect of going for a ride. Flit buzzed over too and landed on Rolfe's shoulder.
Snow Angel bobbed her head, looking excited. Without another moment's hesitation, John Rolfe swung his leg over her rear and mounted the mare bareback. He held onto her mane in place of reins and bumped her gently in the side to let her know he was ready to go. She trotted swiftly along the path the warriors had dug away from the longhouse. Once they hit untouched powder, she had to walk slowly in order to get through it. Still, Rolfe and the others enjoyed the sight of an untouched snowy forest in the beautiful morning light. The icicles glistened in the sun like a thousand jewels. They were out all of thirty minutes before they returned and found Pocahontas running around frantically looking for Rolfe. The moment she spotted him, she ran over. "John! Don't disappear like that. You scared me," the young woman chided, giving Snow Angel a pat on the side.
The Englishman hopped down and patted the horse too. "I'm sorry. I didn't know how to tell anyone where I was going," he replied. "We just went for a walk in the forest, is all."
Pocahontas took him by the hand. "Come back inside. We need to talk," she said, pulling him toward the longhouse. Meeko and Flit followed, whereas Snow Angel wandered off to entertain herself outdoors—her usual preferred hangout. Rolfe followed Pocahontas through the door and to the fire where sitting mats had been set up. All the breakfast food was done cooking and it sat on plates in front of them. The Powhatan princess sat down on a cushion and patted the one next to her. "Have you eaten yet, John?"
"Yes, but I wouldn't mind eating more. I'm still hungry," John Rolfe replied, taking some corn fritters and a turkey breast for himself. He did not start eating yet because he had lots of questions he wanted to ask. "Pocahontas, where are we? Are we in a Powhatan village? I have not seen your father yet so I assume we are not in Werowocomoco."
Pocahontas smiled as she put some items on her plate. "We are in Mattica. It belongs to the Matticox tribe, also known as the Bear Clan. They speak a language similar to Powhatan called Matticox. Father also sometimes calls it Western Powhatan. Mattica is my mother's hometown. She grew up here with many brothers and sisters. The current leader in charge is my maternal aunt, Chieftess Oppusquinuske," she explained.
John Rolfe raised a brow. "Is there a chief?"
"There was," Pocahontas replied. "My aunt Oppusquinuske had a late husband by the name of Powwaw. Unfortunately, he died ten years ago, the same year my mother passed away. Can you imagine losing your spouse and dearest sister all in the same year? It must have been awful for my aunt. Anyway, it was my parents' marriage which united the Matticox tribe with the Powhatan confederacy decades ago." She flushed slightly, flashing a glance down at the floor. "By the way, my aunt somehow figured out that you and I want to get married. You might say she's unusually perceptive. But she promised not to tell anyone so the secret is safe. I just thought I should let you know."
John Rolfe's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? How could she have figured it out?"
Pocahontas shrugged. "There must've been something in my eyes or body language when I spoke of you that gave it away. But no one else suspects a thing though," she returned.
"Thank goodness! So how far away are Werowocomoco and Jamestown exactly?"
Pocahontas thought for a minute. "Given the height of the snow, it would probably take two to four days to get there with Snow Angel. It is just difficult for any animal to get through such tall snow drifts, but the sled dogs here have very large paws. They can pull our sled and pack down the snow. Then it will be easier for Snow Angel to follow behind us. We need to discuss this idea with my aunt though. She will probably insist we bring a band of warriors with us as bodyguards to please my father. Speaking of my father, I learned last night that there is trouble brewing in Jamestown. The settlers did not grow enough food for the winter because they expected our ship to arrive in time to supply them. My people are not much better off because there was a severe drought this year. Crop yields were much lower than usual. Because of that, we cannot afford to trade with the settlers or else we'll go hungry and now the settlers are threatening to steal food from Werowocomoco and other villages at gunpoint," Pocahontas sadly disclosed.
John Rolfe was taken aback at the news. He knitted his brows. "Over my dead body, they will! We need to leave immediately," he decreed, peering around. "Where's your aunt?"
Pocahontas spoke to one of the women in the local tongue. The lady rushed off and returned minutes later with the chieftess. "I have told him," Pocahontas announced to her aunt in Matticox. "John thinks we should leave immediately. What do you think, Aunt?"
Oppusquinuske came over and sat down with them. They ate breakfast as they discussed the day's plans, finally settling on sending two dogsleds with warriors along with them as guards—one in front and one in back. They would travel to a Chickahominy village and spend the night there. The chieftess estimated it would take two whole days of traveling if weather conditions remained favorable. Pocahontas acted as the translator throughout the conversation. Once they were done talking and eating their breakfast, Oppusquinuske gave orders for the sleds and dogs to be prepared. There were five warriors coming with them overall, two on each extra sled and one to drive their own sled.
Pocahontas and John Rolfe used the sled they had built together, packing up extra food supplies and warm skins. The fur from the bear Pocahontas had killed was frozen solid. She took it off and handed it over to the women in the longhouse to defrost, saying she would send for it in the spring. Rolfe, Pocahontas, Meeko, Percy, and Flit sat with the cargo, watching the scenery pass. Snow Angel was tethered to the last sled. Fortunately, she had no trouble keeping up once the snow was packed down for her. The whole day was beautiful, bright, and balmy and they arrived in the village of Hominy by evening.
Hominy was about half the size of Mattica but it was equally hospitable. John Rolfe was able to understand more of the words there from what was spoken. The village chief was a stocky man a few inches shorter than but twice the girth of Rolfe. With a boisterous laugh, he proved himself to be a jolly affable fellow. Rolfe liked him. He held a small feast for them in his longhouse. After dinner, they were taken to separate huts to stay for the night. John Rolfe and Percy passed the night with one family and Pocahontas, Meeko, and Flit with another. With skins draped over her, Snow Angel stayed outside and found a rocky overhang with a pile of leaves underneath. She made that her nest for the night.
…
December 20, 1613
Everyone was woken up at dawn. After breakfast, they set off for Werowocomoco as the sun rose on the eastern horizon. The first half of the day was cold but clear. It was not until just after noon that some heavy clouds rolled in. Pocahontas began to fear it might start raining but, in fact, there were light snow flurries at first. The winds began sometime in the early evening, becoming more intense as the sun reached toward the western horizon. The warriors had to stop the sleds to bundle up their faces as the biting wind began to chap their skin and lips. Though John Rolfe and Pocahontas were bundled up with the cargo, they started to shiver as the extreme cold penetrated even their warm clothing. As night fell, snow came down heavily and snowflakes whipped harshly against their faces. It made it difficult to see where they were going. The lead warrior driving the front sled came to a stop, forcing the others behind him to do the same.
"This is going to be a very harsh winter!" Pocahontas shouted over the wind.
The Englishman nodded fervently. "And I thought English winters were bad!"
The lead warrior Pajacock came to their sled, shouting over the winds in Matticox. "We cannot continue until the snow lets up! Even the dogs can't see where they are going! We are going to let them loose and set up a shelter!" he cried. Pocahontas was about to reply just when the snow thinned out and the winds eased slightly. The warrior stood up straight and peered around. "On second thought, we're almost there. If it gets too bad again, we'll have to stop. But we just might make it," he finished, returning to his sled.
The dogs were off again, fighting through the drifts. After five minutes, John Rolfe tore his hood off and craned his neck backward to see if Snow Angel was okay. She appeared to be doing fine as she trotted along behind the last sled. He pulled his hood back on. Sometime later, the winds picked up again and blew westward. "John!" Pocahontas cried, gaining his attention. She pointed at something sticking up out of the snow when it appeared on their right, mostly obscured by the great snow flurries. "That's a totem pole! We are entering Werowocomoco right now!" Pocahontas enthusiastically declared.
John Rolfe was relieved. He did not know how much more wind and snow he could take. He began to count the seconds until they reached the great chief's longhouse. At the same time, deep anxiety welled up within him that he was powerless to explain. It was difficult to tell where they were with nothing but moonlight to guide them. When they neared the grand building, the front outside wall came into view. Pocahontas struggled to unbind the ropes fastening them to the cargo hold as the dogsleds stopped in front of her home.
"I'm home!" Pocahontas cried, peering at John Rolfe. "We're home! Come, let's go in!"
Their driver assisted them in climbing out of the cargo hold. Pocahontas held Meeko and Flit and John Rolfe held Percy as they fought through the drifts to reach the wooden door, pounding on it for admittance. Seconds later, the great door opened up to reveal the warm interior. Many pairs of eyes were peering at them from the central hearth. It was the far end of the great longhouse. Powhatan's personal dwelling was on the other end.
Pocahontas, John Rolfe, and their driver tracked some snow inside when they entered. The first thing Pocahontas did when she arrived was put Meeko down and throw her hood off. "Mattachanna!" she cried. The older woman, who occupied the room with her many children, gasped and slapped a hand to her mouth. She was speechless, gazing at Pocahontas in disbelief. She shook her head, hardly able to process what she was seeing.
"Pocahontas?" Mattachanna whispered, her glassy eyes quivering with emotion as she pulled her hand away from her mouth. "It cannot be you. Your ship never returned."
Pocahontas ran over to embrace her eldest sister. "Yes, it is me! I am home at last! I can't believe that I'm finally home! Oh, you won't believe what we have been through. Where is Father?" The door opened again as the remaining warriors came inside. Pocahontas turned to them and asked them to bring Snow Angel to the small stable that she had once had built for her own horse, giving directions. All five Matticox warriors nodded, going back outside to carry out the princess's order and take care of the dogs as well.
As soon as Rolfe removed his hood, Mattachanna squealed in alarm and pointed at him. "It's one of them! Pocahontas, behind you! They attacked us earlier and stole much of our corn! Uttamatomakkin!" she cried, calling her husband. He rushed in from an adjacent room, the tall stoic warrior that both Pocahontas and John Rolfe immediately recognized.
John Rolfe's visage brightened the moment he set eyes on the man. Uttamatomakkin's mouth hung open in astonishment. "Ute!" Rolfe greeted. "Long time, no see. I can't believe you beat us back to Virginia. Well, we ran into some impediments along the way."
Pocahontas gasped, hardly even noting Uttamatomakkin's presence. "The Jamestown settlers attacked? We were in Mother's hometown and heard there was trouble brewing here! Is anyone hurt? I must see Father right away!" she quickly returned in Powhatan, addressing her sister. Ute waved to John Rolfe in a semi-affable manner and Mattachanna peered at him confusedly. Pocahontas glanced back and spotted John Rolfe standing there behind her. She turned back to her sister, realization dawning. "Oh, do not worry about him. He is not a threat. In fact, he is here to help us," Pocahontas explained.
"Pocahontas, is this a family member of yours?" John Rolfe inquired.
Mattachanna knew the whites' tongue well enough from interactions with the settlers. She answered in Pocahontas's place. "I am her older sister. Who are you…? You look vaguely familiar," the older Powhatan princess indicated, examining him.
He took a bow. "John Rolfe, madam. I am the one who took Pocahontas to London. I'm pleased to inform you and your people that our meeting with the king was a great success and we've returned to establish peace. We would have been here much sooner, but I fear that our ship was attacked. Pocahontas and I were the only survivors," he soon divulged.
Mattachanna's mouth hung open until one of her children spoke to her in Powhatan, asking a question. She turned back to the girl. "Go get Grandpa, Pules. Hurry! Aunt Pocahontas has returned!" she told her daughter in Powhatan. Pules jumped up and ran off in the opposite direction, disappearing into the adjacent longhouse chamber.
It was less than a minute before the chief himself appeared, bursting through the buckskin draped over the doorway. The astonished man looked like he might swoon at the sight of his lost child, a hand pressed firmly over his heart. "Father, I'm back!" Pocahontas cried, running over. Powhatan uttered not a single word before scooping her into his arms as if he would never let go, his facial expression a complex mix of deep emotions. Pocahontas squeaked. "Father, I can't breathe," the young princess croaked. "Need air!"