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He saw Ratcliffe preparing to fire and, without a second thought, immediately lunged toward the chief, intending to shove him out of the line of fire. He had not anticipated, however, just how massive Powhatan was; Smith felt as though he had collided with a mountain. He felt his insides jolt violently as he hit the ground. Then, he heard the gunshot. He sprang to his feet at once and scanned the area intently. To his immense relief, he saw the chief standing nearby, and a moment later, Pocahontas fell into his arms. John was somewhat dazed and sore from the collision with the chief and the hard fall, but the most important thing was that his beloved and her father were safe. Still holding Pocahontas in his arms, Smith watched as the settlers subdued Ratcliffe.
They were furious. At last, they saw their governor’s true colors, and that was the final straw. They had had enough. For months, they had been deceived and led astray, and only then did they realize who had been right in the dispute between Smith and Ratcliffe. Once they finally managed to overpower the tyrant, they immediately dragged him to the fort, intending to imprison him there until the ship was ready for the return voyage to England.
Smith decided not to go back to the fort just yet. He wanted to keep the promise he had made to Pocahontas the night before and speak with the chief. Once the girl had calmed down a little and felt certain that no one was in danger anymore, she and John approached her father.
“Father…,” she began uncertainly.
She wasn’t quite sure where to start, but Smith quickly came to her aid.
“My name is John Smith,” he said slowly, attempting to speak Algonquian.
He was glad that Pocahontas had taught him so patiently over the past six months. Thanks to that, he could at least partially convey what he wanted to say to the chief.
“Last night, I promised Pocahontas I would speak with you. I do not want war, nor do I wish harm upon anyone in your great nation.”
The chief’s stern face softened slightly when he heard the newcomer speaking his language. And although he felt Smith was butchering the speech terribly, he refrained from making any comments. He could see how hard the man was trying.
“Father, John wants peace. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone,” Pocahontas finally found her voice. “He didn’t kill Kocoum. It was an accident,” she explained.
She told her father exactly what had happened the night before — how she had met Smith in secret and how the confrontation with Kocoum had come about. She explained that there had been another settler in the woods who, believing he had to protect his friend, fired his musket and killed the warrior.
The chief listened intently. He appreciated his daughter’s honesty. Slowly, the whole story began to make more sense. Powhatan realized that, amidst the emotions and chaos that had reigned just hours earlier, certain events had been misinterpreted. It did not happen often, but when necessary, he knew how to admit a mistake.
“I misjudged you, young man. You wanted to come to me in peace, but an unfortunate turn of events thwarted your noble intentions. I apologize.”
“I bear no ill will. The settlers behaved very badly, and I understand why you reacted the way you did. It is I who should apologize. I am sorry that my people fail to respect your great nation. I would like to change them, but I do not know if I can convince them that they are mistaken and have misjudged you.”
The chief smiled.
“That is beyond your control, young man. You cannot be held responsible for your people — especially since, as I understand it, you are not the one who leads them.”
“That is true; the leader of the newcomers is the man who aimed his weapon at you today. But I think that now they have seen how vile he is, someone else will lead them.”
“Perhaps you? How does one become a chief in your culture?” Powhatan was becoming increasingly favorably disposed toward John.
“No, I couldn’t. I am merely a commoner; I have no right to hold authority. Besides, I do not wish to live in the settlers’ village,” Smith admitted honestly, taking a deep breath. “That is another matter I would like to discuss with you. I love your daughter, and my greatest dream is to spend the rest of my life with her… would you allow me to live in your village and learn to live as one of the warriors? I want to give Pocahontas a good life in the surroundings she knows and loves. I could not bring myself to force her to move with me to the English settlement. Yet, I cannot imagine life without her, either…”
Pocahontas listened to John in astonishment. She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Had he really just asked Powhatan for her hand? She waited to hear what her father would say.
“Very well, you may live in the village. I will give you your own wigwam so you have some privacy. Of course, I have no objection to you courting my daughter. But I will only agree to an engagement once I know that Pocahontas desires it too.”
Pocahontas wanted to answer immediately, but she decided to wait until she had a chance to speak with Powhatan in private. She did not want her father to think that John had pressured her in any way.
Pocahontas and John spent the rest of the day together. She helped him settle into the previously empty wigwam, while he returned the favor with stories of England and the lands he had visited. She listened, spellbound. She had never imagined the world was so vast. Her people believed the Earth was a flat disk, with the Powhatan nation placed at its very center by the Creator. Now she was learning that the English believed the Earth to be a sphere, with no true central point. She found it fascinating. For hours, she listened as Smith recounted tales of strange lands and the people who inhabited them. Turkey — and the people John called the Ottomans — seemed the strangest of all to her. He spoke at length about them, and about how they had captured and enslaved him for a long time.
“Is that why you said you’d get out of worse scrapes before?” she asked playfully, struck by the lightness with which he recounted his ordeals — as if they were not painful memories, but rather a grand adventure.
“Well… among other things,” he replied with a chuckle. “I suppose I just have a knack for getting into trouble. But I promise to change! Now that we can be together, I want to give you a sense of security. No more wild adventures or endless voyages chasing the elusive. It’s time for me to grow up.”
Pocahontas laughed.
“And you really don’t want to travel anymore?”
“No — unless it’s with you, somewhere upriver. I’d like to get to know this land better. But only if you’re the one to show me around. That’s all, though. No more seafaring. I have no intention of leaving Chesapeake.”
“John?” Pocahontas’s expression turned serious. “When you spoke with my father…”
“I was completely honest with him,” he replied gently, taking her into his arms. “I want to be with you forever — through thick and thin. I still have a lot to learn and need to understand your people’s customs, but I want to do it. I’m not even sure if what I said today was appropriate. How exactly am I supposed to ask your father for your hand?”
Pocahontas was surprised once again. John kept taking her by surprise.
“Is this to be an arranged marriage, or one based on love?” She asked teasingly.
“Oh, come on! Out of love, of course!” He laughed and planted a passionate kiss on her lips. “Perhaps I didn’t say it quite so plainly... I love you, Pocahontas. I’ve loved you since the day we met. And I know — my heart knows — that this is a lifelong love. I have no idea what an engagement looks like in your culture, but I’d like to do it properly. In England, I’d buy a ring, then drop to one knee and ask you to be my wife. But I have no way to get a ring here. I could order one from London, but I’d be waiting about a year for it.”
Pocahontas smiled.
“What is a ring?”
“It’s a sort of trinket worn on the finger. Usually, it’s made of gold or silver.”
“The English love gold, don’t they? I wonder when your people will finally accept that they won’t find it here,” she giggled. “That leader of yours is incredibly stubborn.”
“I don’t think he’ll ever accept that the true wealth of this land isn’t gold. It’s the fertile soil, which — with the right care — can yield magnificent crops. Most people will slowly come to accept this, but not him. Some who sail away in a few days probably won’t return. But others will come. I only hope our nations learn to live in peace…”
She couldn't sleep that night. After talking to her father, hundreds of thoughts swirled in Pocahontas’s mind. Was John truly ready for marriage? Did he really want to stay in Chesapeake forever and never return to his homeland? Could he genuinely adapt to village life, living among the people his countrymen called savages? She couldn't stop thinking about it all. She just tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep. Finally, she decided to speak with John. She knew it was late, but she couldn't wait until morning. She sneaked out of her wigwam and moved quietly through the village, heading straight for Smith’s hut. She peered cautiously inside and saw her beloved sitting by the fire. He looked deep in thought.
“John?” She ventured softly.
“Come here,” he replied tenderly, reaching out his hand to her. “I was just thinking about you. I couldn't sleep because I’m searching for the answer to a very important question,” he added, looking deep into her eyes as she sat down beside him. “How can I ask for your hand? What should I do?”
Pocahontas smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. She had found the answer to her nagging questions. With that single sentence, John had dispelled all her doubts. The tone of his voice told her everything; she was certain of his intentions.
“My tribe’s customs are different from England’s,” she said with a smile. “Here, you don’t need a ring. Spending the night with me is enough. Afterward, you’ll have to speak to my father again and give him something to show your wealth. Though I suspect you won’t need to, since you’ve already proven in other ways that you can take care of me.”
“Spend the night with you?!” Smith looked surprised. “But… Don't get me wrong, of course I want to, but… don’t we have to wait until the wedding?”
“No,” Pocahontas laughed. “It would be very strange if we had waited this long for that. After all, we wouldn’t be engaged then!”
“I’m liking your tribe’s customs more and more,” he chuckled, taking Pocahontas into his arms. “May I have this night and every one that follows, until the end of our days? Will you be my wife?”
She didn’t have to think about her answer. She had dreamed of nothing more than spending the rest of her life by John’s side. She gave herself to him joyfully, answering his question in the process. They continued for hours, until finally, utterly exhausted, they sank onto their bedding, struggling to catch their breath. They lay there in each other’s arms, slowly returning to reality. They knew they would remember this night forever. John still found it hard to believe that Powhatan wouldn’t be angry about them sharing such a night, but he knew Pocahontas well enough to know she wouldn’t have done it against the rules.
“I still can’t believe this is all really happening,” he said with a chuckle. “Just yesterday, war was hanging by a thread, and today… We’re together, and no one is objecting.”
“The spirits must have wanted it this way,” she said thoughtfully, snuggling against his bare chest. “You know? Now I understand the dream I used to have before we met. An arrow would appear before me, out of nowhere, and start spinning faster and faster, then come to a sudden stop. Grandmother Willow said that the arrow was showing me my path. Your compass has an arrow like that. And it was pointing to you — I know that for sure now.”
“I’m inclined to believe it,” he said happily. “Remember when our hands touched for the first time? Suddenly, we understood each other… Is that how the spirits work?”
They talked for a long time, then made love again. They couldn't keep their hands off each other and didn't leave their bed until the sun was high in the sky. They were happy to finally be together without having to hide their feelings. That afternoon, they went to Jamestown; Smith wanted to tell the settlers about his intentions.
They were welcomed warmly at the fort, though a hint of unease could be sensed among the settlers as Pocahontas and Smith passed through the palisade gate, carrying baskets of corn.
“This is from my father,” she explained, trying to speak English.
“The Chief asked us to bring you some food,” Smith explained.
“Do you trust him, Smith?” Ben remained wary.
“Yes. He is a good, honest man. We can trust him. Since he promised not to start a war, he won’t — provided none of the settlers provoke him.”
Suddenly, a breathless Wiggins came running up to the group gathered at the fort’s entrance. He was holding an envelope sealed with wax.
“I found this in Ratcliffe’s tent,” he announced.
“Yeah? So what?” Ben snarled. “And how do we know you didn’t just make this up?”
Smith listened to the verbal sparring and decided to intervene. The last thing they needed was more infighting among the settlers — even if Wiggins was someone to be viewed with a healthy dose of skepticism.
“May I see it?” he asked. When Wiggins handed him the envelope, the captain immediately recognized the symbol on the seal. “It’s the King’s seal. Whom did you choose to replace Ratcliffe?”
A nervous murmur rippled through the crowd. John instantly realized they hadn’t yet decided who was to take charge. He felt an urge to open the envelope himself, but he knew he was the last person who should do so; he was of the lowest social standing among them. He saw the chaos reigning among the settlers — they didn’t know what to do, and an inexplicable tension hung in the air.
“Wiggins, open it,” Smith finally took the initiative. “You found it, so you should be the one to open it. After all, you brought the envelope still sealed, meaning you didn’t open it on your own. I trust you.”
Wiggins nodded gratefully and carefully broke the seal. He unrolled the parchment and began to read.
“His Royal Majesty, King of England and Scotland, James Stuart, hereby appoints the following gentlemen to the Council of the Virginia Colony:
John Ratcliffe: Governor and President of the Council;
Captain Gabriel Archer: Secretary of the Council;
The others are: Bartholomew Gosnold, George Kendall, John Martin, and Captain John Smith.”
Everyone listened intently as Wiggins read out the names, and when the last one was spoken, John’s knees nearly gave way. He couldn't believe his name was on the list of Colony Council members. How was that even possible? He racked his brain trying to figure out how it had happened. Another thing that struck him was the fact that the King had intended for the colony to be governed by a group of people, much like a parliament. That meant Ratcliffe — likely suspecting this, or perhaps even knowing the ruler's exact instructions — had hidden the letter to keep it a secret. Smith found it hard to fathom.
“Wiggins? Just be honest now,” Smith said bluntly but gently. “We tend you no harm; just admit it. Did you know Ratcliffe had hidden that letter?”
“No! I swear! I had no idea!” Wiggins was bordering on panic. “I swear on my soul, I had no clue. I only found it a moment ago while tidying up.”
“Calm down, I believe you,” John said gently. “I think that, in this circumstance, we all ought to start trusting you. Even though you’re Ratcliffe’s butler, you managed to come to us and show us what you’d found. Thank you for that.”
Then, all the settlers, along with John, gathered around a makeshift table constructed from barrels and a few planks. Pocahontas sat beside Smith, trying to grasp as much of the meeting’s proceedings as she could. They set out to decide on their next steps and who should lead the settlement. Smith suggested Archer, arguing that he was of the highest birth and possessed the necessary management skills. However, the others insisted that John should become the new governor.
“Gentlemen, you know my background. I am a nobleman by appointment only; I was born into a family of farmers. The very fact that His Majesty placed me on the Council of the Colony is beyond my comprehension. Besides... I do not intend to live in Jamestown. I have decided to move to Chief Powhatan’s village and live as a member of the tribe. Pocahontas is my fiancée. And that is another matter I wish to discuss with you. You all witnessed Pocahontas saving my life, but you do not know that we have known each other for some time. We met the very day Susan Constant arrived on the shores of this wondrous land. You surely noticed that I kept slipping away from the settlement. Now you know why: I was seeing Pocahontas.”
At these words, the discussion picked up steam. Everyone began practically begging Smith to agree to serve as governor — at least temporarily, until the king appointed a successor to Ratcliffe. The arguments were compelling, yet John dreamed only of a quiet life with his beloved, far away from the hardships of the settlement. He was also aware that Pocahontas would not feel well among the settlers; their customs and beliefs would be too unfamiliar to her. Yet, she surprised him. She stood up and let her gaze sweep across the assembled group.
“Forgive my poor English, gentlemen,” she began. “Please correct me if I make a mistake. I believe John Smith is capable of leading your village. He would make a fine leader, and our impending marriage will seal the peace between our peoples.”
John was dumbfounded. Did Pocahontas actually want him to become governor? Did she realize she would have to live among the English and perhaps, in time, adopt their way of life? He wanted to help the settlers, but he did not want to force anything upon Pocahontas. And then, she surprised him once more with a suggestion of a compromise.
“Would you agree for John Smith living in my father’s village and simply coming here every day?” she asked.
The men glanced at one another, then at Smith. They waited for his reaction.
“What do you say to a compromise like that?” he asked.
He was delighted by his beloved’s confidence. She was unfamiliar with English culture, yet she instinctively knew how to conduct herself. She spoke with such assurance, as if she had been preparing for this very moment her entire life. He was proud of her.
“Let’s vote,” Ben suggested. “All those in favor, raise your hand.”
The vote was swift. They were unanimous. John Smith was named governor — at least until someone appointed by the King arrived from England. He had not expected this turn of events. Yet, he could not deny that his relationship with Pocahontas held immense political significance and served as an ideal guarantee of peace between the Powhatan people and the settlers. He only wondered how long he would have to hold the office…
A year and a half had passed since that memorable afternoon when the settlers elected him governor. Much has changed since then. In the meantime, John had become a father, and he, Pocahontas, and their little son had moved closer to Jamestown. They built a farm just a few hundred yards from the colony’s palisade. Here, they enjoyed freedom while remaining close to Jamestown; they lived life on their own terms, exempt from certain rules. No one insisted on an English wedding or demanded that Pocahontas adopt the settlers' way of life. She was free to visit her father and spend time at the fort whenever she pleased. They had found the perfect compromise. They stood now by the riverbank, watching the light of the setting sun play across the gently rippling waters of the James River.
“The ship should be arriving any day now, shouldn’t it?” Pocahontas asked thoughtfully, adjusting the edge of her son’s blanket. The infant was calmly asleep in his mother’s arms.
“Yes — given they didn’t run into any storms, they should be here soon. I wonder if the King has appointed a new governor yet... If so, he’ll likely be arriving on that ship.”
“And I think he’s already found the perfect governor and has no intention of looking for another. John, look at what you’ve done for Jamestown. You transformed a starving settlement of a few flimsy tents into a thriving place that people call home. They’ve built cabins, a storehouse, and a meeting place. They wouldn’t have managed without you. You were the one guiding them on what to do. You taught them how to farm the local soil.”
“Oh, no! You were the one who taught them how to farm,” he protested with amusement. “And you were the one who provided the settlers with food during the hardest times. If not for you, the colony wouldn’t have survived the first winter.”
“We make a perfect couple,” she said happily.
“It’s true. And you know what? I can’t imagine life without you and our little one anymore. We’ve managed to create a world of our own — somewhere between the world of the Algonquins and the world of the English.”
“And our son has united our peoples, just as the Pamunkey and Mattaponi rivers merge into one even mightier one.”
Smith smiled and put his arm around Pocahontas’ shoulders.
“Yes, Thomas ‘Two Mighty Rivers’… I like that name of his. Though I still find it hard to pronounce.”
“Pepsicanough,” she said with a smile. “Don’t worry; you have a lifetime to learn.”
“But I promised myself I’d learn to say it perfectly by his first birthday.”
“Then you still have a few months.”
They gazed out at the rippling river once more. No more words were needed. Everything they wished to convey was reflected in their gestures and their glances. They had forged a perfectly harmonious union that bridged their two cultures, creating an unbreakable bond between them — a bond that was eternal.