Cate of the Lost Colony - Lisa Klein [99]
The canoes were poised for departure when I remembered another promise made before John White left us. He had said to Ananias: If you should leave this island, carve on a tree or doorpost the name of your destination. I jumped from the shallop, getting wet all the way to my waist, and called to Ambrose to bring one of his carving tools. I found a tree near the shore that would be visible to anyone landing and explained why he must carve “Croatoan” into the trunk.
“But John White is not returning,” he said, frowning.
“Please, just do it. I’m fulfilling a promise.”
Ambrose had finished the C, and beneath it an R, and then an O when Graham came down the path from the fort.
“What are you doing, man?” he asked Ambrose. “Look, the canoes are pulling away. Come, Cate.”
“But John White wanted us to leave a message,” I protested. “If we don’t, how will anyone know—”
“Three letters are enough,” said Ambrose abruptly, wiping off his tool. I watched him board the shallop and thought with dismay that nothing John White wanted had come to pass.
Graham took my chin and gently turned my face to his.
“It’s no use, Cate,” he said. His eyes were soft with pity. “He is never coming. You must forget Ralegh, and I, Anne.”
Chapter 38
I, Manteo, Dance with the
Moon Maiden
And so, to fulfill Ahone’s will, I brought the twelve men, seven women, and six children to dwell on Croatoan. My mother welcomed them with due ceremony. Most of my people had never seen a person without black hair and tawny skin. I had to explain the strangers’ appearance and their way of dressing.
“They are from a land beyond where the sun rises,” I said, pointing toward the sea once, twice, and a third time to indicate a great distance. “Therefore their skin and eyes are pale, and they must cover themselves so the sun will not harm them.”
That summer the Englishmen’s bodies grew brown from the sun when their shirts turned to rags and fell from their backs. The women began to wear soft hides, and their arms and legs also darkened.
“They are of our land now, and hence their skin becomes more like ours,” I said to explain the change.
“But their hair does not darken, nor their eyes,” objected the suspicious ones.
I related the dream I had received from Ahone. “As the black bear gave refuge to the hare, the strong must aid the weak.” If we fulfilled this duty, I said, Ahone would make our offspring great heroes. Because I was the son of Weyawinga, they believed I spoke truth. Thus their suspicion gave way to trust, and I began to hope when the English returned, as they must one day, they would know the goodwill of the Croatoan.
The English, too, were suspicious when they first arrived in my village. They would not yield their armaments until we agreed two of their number and two of ours would guard them. They built four small houses from timber and dwelt six to a house. In that first planting season they worked their own fields. Then Ladi-cate and the medicine woman moved into one of our unused houses. They declared it warm and comfortable. With the two children they went about the village in a friendly manner. I was proud to see Ladi-cate speaking with my kin and showing them respect. The English and Croatoan children played together without regard for their differences. Over time they led their elders to trust one another, as a clever weroance brings about an alliance between unlike peoples.
Grem was the first to take a Croatoan wife. When Tameoc visited with Jane-peers and his kinswomen, Mika and the soldier were full of joy to see each other. The joining ceremony took place during the season of ripening. Grem wore trousers, a jerkin made from hides, and feathers in his hair.
I was glad of the marriage, for it would make the English and the Croatoan