The Adventures of Pocahontas and John Rolfe: Book I

Chapter 13: My Eternal Summer

The Adventures of Pocahontas and John Rolfe: Book I

Chapter 13: My Eternal Summer

John Rolfe had promised to leave the hut for the evening feast that day. He brushed and tied his hair back, preparing himself for social interaction as best he could. When the beat of drums began, Pocahontas took him by the hand and led him to the door of the hut. Just then Siwili made an appearance through the curtain, a big smile on his face. He beckoned them to go outside with him. They followed, the Englishman sticking close to his friends because he knew he would be inundated by people the moment he set foot outside.

"Oh, um... Hello," John Rolfe greeted as hands descended on him from all sides. His right and left extremities were taken hostage by children. Meanwhile, the adults and adolescents who could reach were stroking his hair and touching his face all at the same time. Others clung to his clothes. He had to stop walking until Siwili came to his rescue.

The warrior took John Rolfe by the wrist. He pulled the Englishman through the crowd and then behind his own back, shaking a finger at the overeager throng. "Heamalahilo do ra tansé menos egas qués, tiadros," he scolded them, shooing them off toward the feast.

"I think they like you," Pocahontas remarked as Siwili accompanied them to the feast.

John Rolfe frowned at her. "Everyone's really touchy-feely around here."

The massive bonfire came into view as Siwili led them downhill. Rolfe could not believe how many people were present. There had to be one hundred and fifty individuals at the very least. The music was loud and boisterous and food was everywhere.

Siwili, Pocahontas, John Rolfe, Meeko, Percy, and Flit reached the edge of the crowd. The throng parted, making a path that led directly to the great chief. Rolfe's eyes nearly popped out of his head when he laid eyes on him. The man was colossal. He had to be the height of Uttamatomakkin and the muscle mass of Chief Powhatan combined at absolute minimum. The moment the local chief caught sight of them, he held up a hand and the music and dancing came to an immediate halt. The stoicism fell from the chief's face when he spotted Rolfe, craning his thick neck to get a better look. He held up a hand and beckoned the three of them forward. "Oh hell," the diplomat muttered below his breath, shrinking behind Siwili. He peered apprehensively over the warrior's shoulder.

"Is something wrong, John?" Pocahontas inquired.

John Rolfe flashed a shaky grin. "Of course not! I just... I-I didn't mean to disrupt their celebration," came his rapid-fire response. He nearly jumped out of his skin when their enthusiastic warrior friend took him by the hand and pulled him onward. "Wait, but..." he protested. His first instinct was to resist, but he fought against the urge, not wanting to appear disrespectful. "Oh dear," he said, haplessly bounding along after Siwili.

Before John Rolfe knew it, he and Siwili stood before the great chief. The man towered over the two of them like a mountain, but Siwili showed no signs of anxiety as he greeted the chief like one would a revered father figure. "Heamalahilo Hetoga, elemeni ti ras careyn to ra duté vetras demintin." He brought Rolfe before him and said, "Djahn." Then he pointed to the Powhatan woman as she leaned on a crutch farther back, "Pocahontas." Siwili tapped Rolfe on the shoulder and pointed to their great leader. "Heamalahilo," he said, identifying the chief, and then enunciated, "Hi-uh-mala-hee-loh."

"Hea-mala-hilo," John Rolfe repeated in a subdued tone. He peered up at the imposing warrior king. The chief looked to be in his late forties with a long angular face and high cheekbones. He wore thick buckskin boots and dyed hides that draped from his shoulders and hung nearly all the way down to the ground. His massive and muscular bare arms were covered with pencil-thin tattoo lines of blue, green, red, and yellow from the tops of his shoulders to the tips of his thick fingers. His elongated face was a mask of such minute designs. Many necklaces of shell, copper, stone, and animal teeth and bone hung from his neck all the way down his lower abdomen. His hair bore a mohawk of long red feathers tied into it, along with beads, carved seashells, and other small items.