Instead they saw ruins
and desolation. They had hoped to be greeted joyfully by stalwart,
prosperous Englishmen. Instead a few gaunt, hollow-cheeked spectres,
who scarce seemed men, crawled to meet them.
Lost in amazement the newcomers landed, and as they listened to
the tragic tale pity filled their hearts. They gave the starving
wretches food, and comforted them as best they could. They had no
great stores themselves, and they saw at once that with such scant
supplies as they had it would be impossible to settle at Jamestown.
Even if they could get through the summer, the autumn would bring
no relief, for the fields, where the corn for the winter's use
should already have been sprouting, lay neglected and overgrown
with weeds and briers. The houses where the newcomers might have
lodged had disappeared. The very palisading which surrounded the
settlement as a bulwark against the Indians had been pulled down
for firewood. All the tools and implements which might have been
used to rebuild the place had been bartered away to the Indians. The
Indians themselves were no longer friendly, but hostile. Whichever
way they looked only misery and failure stared them in the face.
The Captains of the Patience and Deliverance talked long together,
but even they could see no ray of hope. So with heavy hearts they
resolved once more to abandon Virginia.
Pages:
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174