period, is about to cast
herself upon the imperiled and well-dressed Captain.

Must we, then, give up the legend altogether, on account of the
exaggerations that have grown up about it, our suspicion of the creative
memory of Smith, and the lack of all contemporary allusion to it? It
is a pity to destroy any pleasing story of the past, and especially to
discharge our hard struggle for a foothold on this continent of the few
elements of romance. If we can find no evidence of its truth that stands
the test of fair criticism, we may at least believe that it had
some slight basis on which to rest. It is not at all improbable that
Pocahontas, who was at that time a precocious maid of perhaps twelve
or thirteen years of age (although Smith mentions her as a child of ten
years old when she came to the camp after his release), was touched with
compassion for the captive, and did influence her father to treat him
kindly.

IX. SMITH'S WAY WITH THE INDIANS

As we are not endeavoring to write the early history of Virginia, but
only to trace Smith's share in it, we proceed with his exploits after
the arrival of the first supply, consisting of near a hundred men, in
two ships, one commanded by Captain Newport and the other by Captain
Francis Nelson. The latter, when in sight of Cape Henry, was driven by
a storm back to the West Indies, and did not arrive at James River with
his vessel, the Phoenix, till after the departure of Newport for England
with his load of "golddust," and Master Wingfield and Captain Arthur.

In his "True Relation," Smith gives some account of his exploration of
the Pamunkey River, which he sometimes calls the "Youghtamand," upon
which, where the water is salt, is the town of Werowocomoco. It can
serve no purpose in elucidating the character of our hero to attempt to
identify all the places he visited.

It was at Werowocomoco that Smith observed certain conjurations of the
medicine men, which he supposed had reference to his fate. From ten
o'clock in the morning till six at night, seven of the savages, with
rattles in their hands, sang and danced about the fire, laying down
grains of corn in circles, and with vehement actions, casting cakes of
deer suet, deer, and tobacco into the fire, howling without ceasing.
One of them was "disfigured with a great skin, his head hung around with
little skins of weasels and other vermin, with a crownlet of feathers
on his head, painted as ugly as the devil." So fa