In London the governors of the Colony had decided it would be a wise thing to attach Powhatan still closer to the English settlement.  Their ideas of the position and character of an Indian potentate were very vague indeed.  They had been told that all savages were fond as children are of bright colored dress and ornaments.  So they reasoned that of course this Indian chieftain of thirty tribes would be delighted with the regal pomp of a coronation.  They sent orders by the Phoenix—­a ship laden with stores which arrived that summer—­that Powhatan should be brought to Jamestown and crowned there with the crown they shipped over for that purpose.

Smith, knowing Powhatan as none of the other colonists did, was not in favor of this plan.  It did not seem to him that a crown instead of a feather headdress would make any difference to the werowance, whose power among his own people needed no external decoration to strengthen it.  But he had no choice but to obey, so he and Captain Waldo and three other gentlemen, went to Werowocomoco to bring Powhatan back with them.

On their arrival they found the werowance absent, whether by chance or by policy.  By this time Powhatan had lost some of his first awe of the white men’s wits and had concluded it was worth while to try and meet strangers’ wiles with wiles of his own.

“Where thinkest thou he can have gone?” asked Waldo.  “I like it not.  Smith; mayhap he is e’en now preparing some mischief against us.”

“I wish we had not harkened to thee.  Captain Smith,” said one of the gentlemen, glancing nervously over his shoulder; “it was a fool’s wisdom to come thus without good yeomen with match-locks to frighten away their arrows.”

“Gentlemen,” replied Smith, showing his vexation in his tone, “I tell ye ye are in no danger if ye do not yourselves bring it about with your looks of suspicion.  Remember that all Werowocomoco is feasting its eyes upon us, and bear yourselves as Englishmen should.”

“Where was it they nearly brained thee, Captain?” queried the fourth.  “And not even thy friend, the little princess, is here to welcome thee.  Doth not her absence cause thee some anxiety?”

It did in truth set John Smith to wondering.  He did not fear that any harm was planned, but Pocahontas’s absence was unexpected and he wondered what its significance might be.  He had been looking forward to seeing his little sister again in her own home and had expected to enjoy a talk with her which would not be interrupted as their conversations in Jamestown always were by the many demands upon his time and attention.  Now that he was so much more familiar with her language, it was a pleasure to discover what a maiden of the forests thought of her own world and that strange world he had brought to touch hers.

The Indians who had come forward to welcome the white men now pointed to a small meadow at the edge of the trees.  They did not reply to Smith’s questions as to what he was to do there, but knowing that this spot was sometimes used for special purposes.  Smith led the way.