Uttamussack, Winter 1610
(An excerpt from JAMESTOWN: THE NOVEL, now available on Amazon.com)
Opechancanough leaned forward on his fur-covered couch and took a rib of roast pork from the platter in front of him. He was grateful to the English for bringing so many hogs with them. At first his people had been reluctant to taste hogs’ flesh, but they soon found the sweet white meat a delicious change from venison and turkey, and the river tribes had had a surfeit of it this winter. . . .
“Tell me again about their numbers,” Opechancanough said to his son, who reclined on a couch next to his. “How many at the place near Kecoughtan--the place they call Point Comfort?”
Smacking his lips and laying down a well-gnawed rib bone, Nemattonow reached for another and said, “Still the same. About forty. And they are not sick, like the ones upriver. They have no corn, but they have plenty of hogs and crabs to eat.”. . .
“What about the numbers at the other fort?”
“They are still dying as fast as May flies, as they have done since John Smith left.”
“He was a good man,” Opechancanough said thoughtfully. “A brave man. Even my brother admired him--until Pocahontas became too fond of him. That was unfortunate. It was just as well he had to leave. But tell me about those who are still at Jamestown:”. . .
“There are so many new mounds of earth in their burying place that I cannot count them all.” . . .
Opechancanough smiled again. . . . “They will soon starve, and the ones who survive may kill each other off. All we have to do is watch and wait.”
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