1609, Winter of the Dead: A Novel of the Founding of Jamestown (7 page)

The following morning, as Nat restoked the fire with wood he had collected earlier, Newport selected men to take the shallop on an exploration up the wide river to find a site for the permanent colony.

John Smith did not look at all bothered that he had been banned from his seat on the council. In fact, he was as animated and excited as ever. His cape flapped like a seabird's wing, and his face was flushed with intensity. He came over to where Nathaniel and Richard stood eating hardtack beneath a brine-weathered tree and said, “You, Richard Mutton. You look strong enough to make an expedition and small enough to take up just a little space. You seem fit and quick. A few of our older soldiers are still recovering from the savage attack. Although my friend Archer is going with us, his wounded hands will not be much good for a number of days yet. We need another armed man.”

Richard looked from Smith to Nat and back to Smith. “Yes, sir,” he said.

“But…” began Nat. “But, sir, I am stronger and bigger, as you can well see. Do you remember in London? I told you I was a soldier!”

Smith held up a hand. “This time Richard will go with us. You will have another chance.”

Richard looked uncertainly at Nat, then followed Smith down the beach to the shallop, where men were placing arms and bundles. Samuel Collier was with them, wearing his feathered hat, holding Smith's personal items. Soon everyone was settled. With a splash of the oars, they pushed off and headed northwest.

Nat stood alone, holding on to a thin branch of the tree, watching as the shallop vanished.
Curses!
he thought.

There was work to do, and Nat threw himself into it. There were oysters and other shellfish to gather from the shallows, wood to gather to keep the fire burning, and with a stream nearby, clothing to wash.

Every so often, Nat would steal a glance of Nicholas Skot. He stopped himself several times from speaking to the boy, reminding himself of his own decision to remain aloof. If he made it here in Virginia, he would make it without sentiment, without pity. It was too bad that Nicholas was mourning his friend. What good would that do him?

The shallop was gone a very long time. One day ran into another, and even though Nat had enough to do to keep busy, he found himself frequently stopping and staring out across the river and wondering how long the shallop would be gone. Had they run into trouble at the hands of the natives? Was Smith still alive? What adventure was Richard discovering? Did he already have a pocketful of gold? Jealously made the backs of Nat's arms hot.

While putting mussels into a pot on the fire, Nat listened to the conversation of Jehu Robinson and another man who were seated nearby on the sand. “It is May eleventh already,” said Jehu. “The shallop has been gone many days. I wonder if bad fate has befallen them.”

The other man, older with a blistering face and clearly a commoner, said, “Whom did they take but gentlemen and a handful of soldiers? Gentlemen! Men who went only to be seers of sights. They have no skill in arms, save a prissy duel, and they have not the brawn to do battle at arm's length. It could well be that at this moment, John Smith is rowing the lot of them, dead bodies all, back to Cape Henry. And thus the delay.”

Jehu said, “You might well be right.”

The older man nodded. “They could have taken me. I am strong and could outwit any gentlemen on our expedition. I do so dislike gentlemen, and this trip has not given me reason to change my attitude. Well, sir, except for you.”

Jehu smiled.

Nat stirred up the mussels and went back down the beach to dig for more. Perhaps, he thought, he might just turn up some Virginia pearls for his effort. This was the land of riches, after all.

It was another two days before the shallop came into view on the river. Nat was glad to see the boat, but what if the old commoner was right and there were dead men there, rowed by battered captains? But as the shallop neared the shore and a sailor jumped out to pull it in closer, Nat saw that every man was there, and safe. They talked nonstop with each other; they carried strange items of feathers and fur, obviously given them by natives.

Richard's complexion was ruddy now, and as he hopped from the shallop and waded through the water to the beach, Nat thought he even seemed taller.

“Tell me!” Nat said, grabbing his arm. “What have you seen, Richard? What did you find? Gold? You brought me some, surely!”

But Richard held up a finger, nodding toward Captain Newport, who had pulled his hat from his bald head, tucked it beneath his arm, and stood before the fire with his hands spread as if ready to make a proclamation. “We have found many riches here in Virginia,” the captain said. “There are natives who welcomed us with friendliness. They laid down their arrows and bows, and there were celebrations and dancing on our behalf. Chiefs or presidents, called
weroances,
of many tribes greeted us with signs of peace, and we were served in a manner most fair.”

“And what riches have you found?” asked Edward Pising. “Have you gold hiding in your pockets?”

But Newport shook his head. “Our riches have been the peace with which we have been greeted by the natives of Virginia. And the land which is rich for growing crops, and the fresh waters in streams and ponds all about.”

Many of the gentlemen who had not gone on the shallop frowned. Nat gave Richard a questioning glance. Richard nodded solemnly, affirming what Newport had said.

“No gold yet?” said one gentleman. “Surely it is not deep in the ground that we must dig for it?”

“Surely you were not looking carefully,” said another. “Fear of natives kept you from watching your steps and certainly you trod on top of the gold without knowing it!”

“We will sail our ships in the morning to find our settlement site,” Newport said. “Get a good sleep tonight.”

The men set several new fires, and around these they all gathered and fell into sleep, with only the watch keeping eyes open for natives or wild animals.

Nat, Richard, and Nicholas Skot sat in the cold sand, and once again Nat interrogated Richard.

“Tell me what you saw,” he said. “I should have gone and so you owe it to me to tell me what you discovered.”

Richard sat with his legs crossed, looking toward the fire several yards away. He seemed older. Even his voice sounded a bit different, deeper maybe, more adult. But his enthusiasm hadn't waned.

“There is a river, I cannot say how long it is,” he began, the light from the fire dancing in his eyes. “It may reach the East India Sea, some of the men believe. Thick trees and flowers line the way, with tributaries from deep within the forests. Birds and animals drank along the river, such as I've never seen before. Some animals had no fur on their tails; making them look like rats, yet not rats. Others were so quick, I couldn't see anything but a flash of teeth and claws!”

“And the riches?” said Nicholas. “Newport said you found none, but surely you picked up something!”

“We met many savages, frightful but curious. As Captain Newport said, they gave us meat and drink, some tasty, some foul. They danced and performed for us.”

“And what of the savages' gold?” asked Nat. “Did you spy it in a tent? Do they wearing it around their necks?”

“I saw no gold.”

“None at all?” asked Nat.

“No,” said Richard. “But I don't doubt it is here. We'll find it, don't worry.”

“I hope so,” said Nicholas.

“We will,” said Richard.

“We will,” said Nat, stretching out to sleep. “I'm not concerned. We will find it in good time. All in good time.”

9

May 13–19, 1607

“A
T LAST
,” C
APTAIN
Archer said, standing on deck with the bandages still on his hands and a small but rare smile on his face. “Such will be our new home.”

The
Susan Constant,
the
Godspeed,
and the
Discovery
had traveled all day, sailing up the broad river, which had been named the James in honor of the king of England, and as the shadows had begun to grow long over the river, the place of settlement was found. It was a wooded peninsula, lush and inviting. There seemed to be no native villages nearby. The water was deep enough close to shore that the sailors threw out ropes and moored the ships to the trees. It was decided to wait until morning to unload to have benefit of sunlight to get a fortress up as quickly as possible.

And morning came very early. Before even a hint of light had filtered down into the 'tween deck, there was noise and movement on the upper deck. Everyone rose quickly and made ready to disembark. First, however, they would all attend the swearing in of the new council.

All the gentlemen who had been named to the council came onto the deck of the
Susan Constant,
and a vote was taken by the members to choose a president. Although Nat was certain Captain Newport would be the one, it was a man Nat didn't know, Edward Maria Wingfield. Nat watched John Smith as the oaths were taken and an oration given. The captain seemed to be in his own world, glancing between the new council members and the shore. His eyes were bright with ideas and his head tilted on occasion as if he were listening carefully to his own thoughts.

The sun was fully up now, and the gentlemen took their personal items across the plank to the place they had named James Towne. Sailors unloaded the barrels and crates, hauling smaller ones out through the cannon hatches on the ships' sides, hoisting the others through the center hatches with ropes. The pigs and chickens and goats were unusually noisy as if they knew they were, at last, home.

Nat balanced himself across the plank from ship to shore. The paper he had stolen from Samuel was rolled up and tucked into his waistband at his hip. He touched it tentatively. He'd have to find a place to hide this. Pulling his fur hat down over his ears, he jumped from the plank to the land. The ground was soft and damp.

Laborers grabbed axes and hatches and immediately began to fell trees to split into planks for a church and a fortress. Soon additional wood would be cut into clapboard cargo to be sent back to England when Newport returned later in the summer. Some sailors returned to the ships to look the vessels over again and, from the sounds of laughter and singing Nat heard from shore, to enjoy some of the remaining beer and whisky in celebration. The tents, smelling of mold and filled with rot-holes, were pitched and patched for use until cottages could be constructed. The work went on for many days.

Richard and Nat were assigned the task of stripping branches from trees felled by the larger men. A disgruntled Samuel Collier had been put to work dragging logs alongside Nicholas Skot. As Nat worked, he watched for the opportunity to speak with John Smith. Nat wanted to go on an expedition like Richard had. It was his turn. He wanted to be scouting instead of slinging an axe. He wanted to learn about the forests and the streams and the dangers in Virginia. He wanted to be able to come back and sketch his own maps for his own use later on. Nat knew it would be a little while before he could actually search for gold—only mindless gentlemen would think gold was the first item necessary for living in this wilderness—but when he had a home and food and a knowledge of the land, he would then go out on his own and find his fortune.

Virginia was a curious place. The trees were stately and wide, and of kinds that Nat had never seen. The animals that peeked from the forest were strange enough to cause one to pause and look. Once such animal was like the stag hunted in England, but it had a softer face and a tail that flashed white when it was startled. Another animal was short and black with a white stripe down its flat back. Nicholas Skot had tried to catch one such animal several days earlier and had been sprayed with an essence so foul he was forced to bathe several times in the water of the James before he was tolerable again. The stink lingered several days. Virginia's weather was pleasant, with temperatures comfortable enough to work without heavy outer layers.

“Do you remember telling Smith you knew how to do this?” Richard asked Nat on an early morning as he chopped branches from a downed tree. His shirt was tied at his waist. Nat's was on a rock. Several hundred feet away, other men were pulling planks into upright positions to fashion the walls of the fort. “We were standing on the street in London. A lifetime ago!”

“I remember,” said Nat. “Aren't you glad you listened to me, little man? We will be rich gentlemen soon.”

Richard nodded exuberantly. “My arms hurt from this work, but that is all right. I shall hope that Smith finds me worthy to once again go scouting. It was most amazing, Nat! You cannot imagine until you do it yourself. Meeting natives, tasting of their food, watching their pagan ceremonies as they welcomed us. Terrifying but incredible.”

Nat swiped at a fly buzzing in his ear, feeling the burn of jealously rise up the back of his neck once more.

“I should want to take another trip up the river,” said Richard. “Farther on this time—”

“Richard, say no more about your trip up the river. You've told me time and again, and I've grown more than weary of it.”

But Richard did not hear the tone in Nat's voice, or he didn't care. “Farther on, and who knows what we might find? It makes me shiver to think of it, but not from fear but from excitement. If only—”

Nat had let go of his axe before Richard could utter another word, and had slammed his fists into his friend's chest, sending him flying to the ground with a “whoof!”

“Enough!” Nat said, bearing down on Richard with all his weight, causing the smaller boy to cough and wriggle beneath him. “I'm sick unto death of your bragging!”

But Richard's eyes flashed fury, and he grunted, “I do not brag! I tell what I've learned, and I alone! Maybe Smith saw I was the better choice of the two!”