with negligence, in not searching for the head of the
Chickahominy, and his own adventurous spirit urged him to renewed
enterprise.

He prepared his boat for a voyage, and, in a season of uncommon rigor, he
set forth upon an expedition destined to add greatly to the fame of his
already wonderful career.

The Chickahominy falls into the James not many miles above the site of
Jamestown. It flows through a very fertile region, and upon its banks
were native settlements well supplied with the stores of savage labor.

Up this stream Smith urged his boat with great perseverence, cutting
through trunks of trees and matted underwood which opposed his progress.
At length, finding the obstacles to increase, he left the boat in a broad
bay, where Indian arrows could not reach her, and, strictly forbidding
the crew to leave her, he pressed on, with two Englishmen and two
Indians, eager to penetrate with their canoe the swamps beyond them.
Hardly had he disappeared before the disobedient seamen left the boat and
sought amusement upon the shore. Opecancanough, an Indian chief of great
subtlety and courage, was near with a lurking band of savages, and,
instantly seizing his advantage, he made prisoner George Cassen, one of
this party, and obtained from him full information as to the movements of
Captain Smith. The cowardice of Cassen did not save him. The savages put
him to death with cruel tortures, and then pursued their more dreaded
foe.

Smith had now penetrated twenty miles into the marshes; and, leaving the
two Englishmen in the canoe, he went forward with an Indian guide. The
savages found the two men sunk in stupid slumber by the side of the
canoe, and shot them to death with arrows ere they could escape. But they
had now to encounter a superior being. Two hundred savages, approaching
with fatal intent, caused no dismay in the heart of Smith. Binding the
Indian guide firmly to his arm, he used him as a shield to preserve him
from the arrows of the enemy, and with his musket he brought two of them
dead to the ground. He would perhaps have reached the canoe--the savages
fell back appalled by his courage--but while in full retreat he sunk to
the middle in a swamp from which his utmost efforts could not extricate
him. Excessive cold froze his limbs and deprived him of strength, yet the
Indians dared not approach him until he threw away his arms and made
signals of submission. Then they drew him out, and, chafing his benumbed