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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