The Argosy, April 1912 — page 51: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

AS THE DICE FELL. We three were traveling alone through a wilderness where never before had white man’s foot trod. We were bent upon an errand that meant either death to ourséfves and the colony or else the saving of both. For we were nigh unto starvation. We had been too short a time in Virginia for our first crops to reach the hour of harvest- ing. The provisions we had brought from England were well-nigh exhausted. Our men, who had been able to live by their wits in taverns and gaming-rooms of London, were.unable to use those same wits for the snaring of wild beasts or the finding of edible fruits and berries here in the- American wilderness. Hunger’s skeleton face grinned uncom- fortably close to us all. Small, marauding bands of Indians, too, had kept us nerve- racked and sleepless. Smith at length decided that there was but one course left to,us. Powhatan was king of all the Indians in that region. Aquia told us the savage monarch held court in a great village far to the west- ward. Smith resolved to visit Powhatan, and to try to make with him some sort of treaty which should not only insure us against further depredations from his wandering war-parties, but should provide us with food as well. It was barely possible such a mission might succeed. It was far more probable, as Aquia pointed out, that Powhatan might kill the envoys, and then, at his leisure, des- troy the colony, for he was known to bear no love for the white. man since the day that one of Sir Walter Raleigh’s followers had shot his youngest son. The chance we were taking was a des- perate one. Still, slender as it was, it still was a chance. And it was our only one. We were three thousand miles from Eng- land, and at a time when no reenforcements or food could reach us for many months at best. So Smith had called for twenty volun- teers to accompany him to Powhatan’s vil- lage. Of all our swash-bucklering company only Aquia and myself had offered our services. The rest took one look at the for- bidding vastness of the forest, known to be peopled with wild beasts and savages, and believed to be peopled with forest- demons as well. Then, unanimously, they refused to go with us. Thus it was that Smith and Aquia and 37 I were pressing westward without guard or escort, risking our lives for the welfare of a crowd of men who vould not stir finger to help us. For days we had traveled. Smith’s com- pass and Aquia’s general sense of the direc- tion of Powhatan’s village being our only guides. Thanks to Aquia we had moved along a route not likely to be frequented’ by war-parties. And we had kept close hidden, traveling with almost ridiculous caution. To-day, as we crossed a half-blotted out- glade in the thick of the forest, an arrow whizzed from out of the dense leafage be- yond us. With a'tinkle it smote Smith’s steel head-piece. We whirled about. we see of our assailant. Nor could we see Aquia.. He had vanished as if in thin air. Whether he had dropped and then glided to a thicker part of the bushes, or whether the earth had swallowed him, we could not tell. But he was gone. There was something uncanny about it all. A minute earlier we three had been plodding along safely and weirdly in single file. Now our guide had vanished in_ the twinkling of an eye, leaving Smith and my- self standing there, waist high in the rank undergrowth, the hot sun beating down upon us, while death lurked invisible be- hind the surrounding wall of leaves... It is one thing to face peril hand to hand. It is quite another to stand helpless before a foe you cannot see. I know of nothing that so racks the nerves. It is the same dread magnified a thousandfold that makes little children fear the dark. Smith and I did not stand supinely wait- ing, Instead, on the instant, we were back to back; our heavy muskets cocked and leveled; our eyes seeking vainly to pierce the barrier of foliage for a glimpse of our hidden foe. ; The stillness was absolute. Even the myriad tiny forest noises seemed hushed as we watched tense and breathless. We were both veteran soldiers and accustomed to night alarms and surprises of all sorts, But not to standing in the peaceful sunlight trying to guard against an unseen enemy. Suddenly the stillness was split by an unearthly shriek. From the long grass twenty feet away from us a savage in full war-paint sprang up into the air, his arms outflung, his face distorted. Not a sign could Comicoool.