been able to tell one.

"The land is wide, oh mighty king, this land of thine, and a fair land
with food enough and space aplenty for many tribes. Bethink thee of
thine enemies who dwell to the north and west of thee who envy thy corn
fields and thy hunting grounds. Will it not advantage thee when we, to
whom thou wilt present, or perchance if it please thee better, _sell_ a
little island and a few fields on the mainland, shall join with thee and
thy braves on the warpath against thy foes, and when we destroy them for
thee with our guns? Let us be friends and allies, oh Powhatan. I will
speak frankly, as it behooveth one to speak to a great chief, this land
pleaseth us and we would gladly abide in it."

The Englishman could not read in the expressionless face of the
werowance what he was thinking of this proposition--the first attempt of
the colonists to explain their presence in the Indians' domain. But the
shouting from all sides of the lodge which followed showed him that the
other chiefs were strongly roused by his words. There was a long
consultation: Powhatan spoke first, then a priest of many years who was
listened to with great consideration, then one of the older squaws
expressed her opinion, which seemed to voice that of the braves as well.
Smith, knowing that his fate was being decided, tried to catch their
meaning, but they spoke so rapidly that he comprehended only a phrase
here and there. At last, however, Powhatan waved his hand for silence
and issued a command.

It was the death sentence. Every eye was turned upon Smith. Well, they
should see how an Englishman met death. He smiled as if they had brought
him good news. If only his death could save the colony, it had been
indeed a welcome message. Not that he did not love life, but he was one