Free Jamestown (The Keepers of the Ring) by Angela Hunt, Angela Elwell Hunt Page A

all the elect people of God.”
    “Who are the e-lect, Fallon?” Gilda asked.
    He laced his fingers again and thought a moment. “I guess the elect are the people of Ocanahonan and all other people who follow Jesus Christ, if there be any.”
    But what if there aren’t others? A dark and cynical voice whispered in his mind. And if there is no Ocanahonan, there remains only you three children.
    “There are other elect in lands where Jesus is worshipped,” Fallon said, more to reassure himself than the children. “Mama told me of England and Ireland.”
    “Will we go there?” Noshi’s voice was a childish treble in the darkness.
    “Only God knows,” Fallon answered as the canoe swirled in the darkness. “Now, let’s practice again. What are your names?”
    “Noshi!”
    “Gilda!”
    “And who hath given you these names?”
    “My mother and father,” the children chorused.
    “Soft,” Fallon said, laying his finger across his lips. “Not so loud. We mustn’t wake the fish.”

Chapter Two
     
     
    The English ship Susan Constant lay at anchor in the wind-whipped waters off the shores of Virginia, and John Smith paced her deck, unable to sleep. Cursed be Captain Christopher Newport’s fears! Despite the trials of the last two days, Smith would gladly have spent the night ashore, even with a nation of savages breathing down his neck. But Newport and his cronies were fearful, especially after a volley of arrows had met their first landing. Even though the savages had been dispersed by gunfire and had not been seen in two days, Newport would not allow his settlers or seamen to remain ashore at night.
    The Susan Constant’ s two companion ships, the Godspeed and the Discovery , were anchored off the starboard bow, and their lantern lights shone steadily across the dark waters. Smith could hear the sounds of relieved merriment from their decks, for despite their first harsh welcome, the euphoria of sighting the noble trees and unravished forests of Virginia had not yet worn off. The planters aboard fancied themselves explorers and were doubtless giddy with dreams of the riches they would send back to England.
    Even the basest of them deserved a bit of self-congratulations, Smith admitted, for the journey across the great western ocean had been difficult. Thirty-nine of one hundred forty-four prospective colonists had died en route from scurvy and other diseases. After the proper prayers for burial of the dead at sea had been read from the captain’s Book of Common Prayer , the unfortunate ones had been hastily consigned to the sea. And so tonight, like every night since they had set sail from England, every man aboard was silently grateful that he slept not in the bowels of the deep.
    The expedition had been a year in the planning. Chartered by King James in April 1606, the Virginia Company of London had been established for three purposes: to search for gold and other precious metals, explore the rivers of the New World for a possible passage to the South Sea, and look for the lost colony which had been initiated at Roanoke Island.
    Those purposes were published and well known, but men were sent to Virginia for other reasons as well. The investors hoped to gather a profit through peaceful trade with the Indians of Virginia, King James desired to install a military base to effectively defend Virginia against ongoing Spanish colonization in the New World, and clergymen stressed the urgent importance of evangelizing the Indians with the gospel of Jesus Christ.
    But John Smith had not crossed the great sea for God, government, or gold. He had ventured forth for glory. If he found gold and served God or his country, so much the better, but he had joined the expedition solely for the adventure of the journey. A professional soldier since the age of twenty, Smith had stood in imminent danger of losing his life at least a hundred times, but the hand of God or amazing strokes of good fortune, depending upon a man’s