[Cannibalism
comes to Jamestown: a scene from the novel, not far from the truth, as we now know.]
Late that night, sometime after midnight,Termperance,
who had felt unwell and had slept most of the day, awoke suddenly. She had been
dreaming again of Thickthorne and its great tables laden with food. This time it
had been haunches of roast venison and jugged hare, and the aroma of roasting
meat she had smelled in her sleep was so strong and so real that it had
awakened her. She lay very still in the dark, depressed as always, to wake up
and realize that she was in Jamestown, hungry, widowed and three thousand miles
from home. But this time, part of her dream had not vanished: The rich aroma of
roasting meat was in the air yet.
Temperance
opened her eyes in the dark, sniffed, and sat bolt upright. She had not
mistaken it; the smell of cooked meat hung so heavily in the air she wondered
why it had not awakened Will and Meg. They were both sound asleep , . .
Temperance sat wide-eyed in the darkness, sniffing the air and wondering if she
could be hallucinating. Hunger could play tricks with one’s senses; she knew
that. The aroma seemed to drift in from outside, wafting its way around the
edges of the deerskin that stretched across the window. There was no question
about it: Fresh meat--hot, succulent, savory meat--was being cooked somewhere
close by, Drawing the scent into her nostrils made Temperance’s mouth tingle.
She could almost taste the meat. The aroma reminded her of roast pork, but
there was a slightly sweeter odor. She could not quite identify it, much less
determine why it was present at Jamestown. Puzzled, but not wanting to awaken
the others, she lay drowsing until dawn, when the wind had blown away all but a
faint trace of the smell. Then she fell into a fitful sleep.
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