of the hundred.
He could not keep still, but hustled about, here, there and everywhere.
Now he was exploring the country, sailing up the rivers or up the broad
Chesapeake Bay. Now he was talking with the Indians, getting food from
them for the starving colonists. Now he was doing his best to make the
men build houses and dig and plant the ground. You can see that John
Smith had enough to keep him busy. He had many adventures with the
Indians. At one time he was taken prisoner by them and was in terrible
danger of being killed. But he showed them his pocket compass, and when
they saw the needle always pointing north, they thought there must be
magic in it. They were still more surprised when he sent one of them
with a letter to his friends. They did not understand how a piece of
paper could talk, as his paper seemed to do.

But all this was not enough to save his life. The great chief Powhatan
looked on him as the leader of these white strangers who had settled in
his land. He wanted to get rid of them, and thought that if he killed
the man of the magic needle and the talking paper they would certainly
be scared and go away.

So Captain Smith was tied hand and foot, and laid on the ground with his
head on a log. And a powerful Indian stood near by with a great war club
in his hand. Only a sign from Powhatan was needed, and down would come
that club on the white man's head, and it would be all over with the
brave and bold John Smith.

Alas! poor Captain Smith! There was no pity in Powhatan's eyes. The
burly Indian twisted his fingers about the club and lifted it in the
air. One minute more and it might be all over with the man who had
killed three Turks in one fight. But before that minute was over a
strange thing took place. A young Indian girl came running wildly toward
him, with her hair flying and her eyes wet with tears. And she flung
herself on the ground and laid her head on that of the bound prisoner,
and begged the chief to give him his life.

It was Pocahontas, the pretty young daughter of Powhatan. She pleaded so
pitifully that the chief's heart was touched, and he consented that the
captive should live, and bade them take the bonds from his limbs.

Do you not think this a very pretty story? Some say that it is not true,
but I think very likely it is. At any rate, it is so good that it ought
to be true. Afterwards this warm-hearted Indian princess married one of
the Virginians named John Rolfe and was tak