Cate of the Lost Colony - Lisa Klein [106]
As the ship’s boats were being lowered into the water, White and I had a disagreement. I preferred to go ashore with thirty men in the event the colonists were being held against their will and we would have to fight for their release. White argued that taking so many men would cause the natives to mistake our purpose.
“And what is our purpose now?” I asked, no longer certain since finding the fort deserted.
“Simply … to find them,” he answered. (Truly, he was unable to think beyond the reunion he had so long anticipated.) And to that end he wanted only the two of us to go ashore, saying, “In the eyes of the Indians we bring disease and death. A large party will only antagonize them.”
I thought the Indians might easily capture two men, but I did not want to seem fearful. So while we labored at the oars of the landing boat, I hoped Manteo would be the one to welcome us, for he would recognize John White. I was still disguised in my pirate’s garb.
Three well-formed warriors met us on the shore and led us to a village that bore only a passing resemblance to the ones I had seen in drawings. Alongside the savage huts stood motley houses made of timber and wattle, with reed mats over the windows and doorways. Amidst them I saw a brick oven and a frame piled with fish over a smoking pit. These were tended by a native woman whose naked breasts drew my startled eyes. I confess I noticed little else about her. I did observe one of the savages wearing a waist-belt that had once been part of a doublet and others carrying English knives. It was as if the pieces of an Indian settlement and an English town had been thrown together by the hand of some careless god.
Though it was evidently in need of a civilizing hand, I felt no sense of mastery upon entering this village that was part of Virginia and hence mine to govern. I began to wish I had arrived with greater ceremony and in finer clothing. It also made me uneasy not to see my countrymen, despite evidence of their presence. Would Lady Catherine show herself? Having been disappointed at Roanoke Island, I was almost afraid to hope. And to be truthful, my immediate concern was statecraft, not love.
“We must demand to see Ananias and the other assistants before we offer any gifts,” I said to White. We had with us pipes made from fine wood and ivory.
He gave me a sharp look. “Let me be the one to speak to them,” he said. I know he thought me proud and precipitous, while I thought him soft and timid. But I let him take the lead because of his experience.
Finally we spotted Manteo approaching us. Three years had brought him to the full height and strength of manhood, giving him broad shoulders and an assured stance. He and White greeted each other warmly, and Manteo led us to a canopy woven of reeds and hung with feathers and furs. There, in an English armchair with a high, carved back, sat a woman neither young nor old, festooned with strands of beads and copper and glistening shells. This was their queen! Covering her breasts was a bib fashioned from pieces of gold braid, velvet, and glass beads. Pearls hung at her ears and a woven diadem surrounded her head. She, like the surroundings, was a mixture of elements strange to me and yet familiar. Overcome by an unexpected sense of reverence, I knelt to this chief as I would have to my own mistress Elizabeth.
John White parleyed with her, then relayed their conversation to me. “Weyawinga says we bring strong blood to the Croatoan … The gods are pleased with Manteo for bringing good fortune … When two fields of maize are planted beside each other, they will produce new stalks with stronger and sweeter kernels.”
I was not interested in hearing Manteo praised or an allegory about plants. I told White to ask the queen where our countrymen were.
Just then three men appeared, dressed in trousers pieced together from animal skins. Their bare chests