The snow scratched at my ankles and feet as I ran through the hard snow. The branches above me in the forest blocked the sun in areas around me, pattering the ground with wild shadows. I slowed to a walk, trying to catch my breath. The village was below me, the many villagers busy with their daily work. I walked down the hill, hoping no one saw my panicked sprint home. I passed the longhouse where Chief Wahunsenacawh stays. The villagers were glancing at the house, all knowing what the many men of the village, the Englishman, and the chief himself were doing. I entered the longhouse, where I found my younger brother, looking at the chief’s bow. I knocked on the wall, changing his attention toward me. When he realized it was me, he quickly…show more content… “I hate the chief. He never lets me do anything.” he sighed. He hugged his knees to his chest.
“Do not crumple yourself. You will learn, in time, about how wise his decisions are. He is waiting until you are of age. Many important parts of our life come when a young boy grows into a strong man.” I tried to comfort him by telling him this, but his face remained in an upset state.
“The chief is a wise man. He protects his many tribes in the Tsenacommacah area from the white men. We trade skins and food with them, and teach them to farm and fish, since they do not know our land. Some children may play their games with us, but we do not interact much beyond that. Our chief has forbade us from going into the white man’s village. I believe the white man on the hill with the chief calls it Jamestown. Our little interaction is for the better, though. Many tribes have been attacked by the white men for our land, and even because they do not like us. Our chief and our many skilled warriors are great in defending us from these men. To protect you, he keeps you from anything involving the white men. When you are strong enough to fight, he will let you see more things involving the white…show more content… “Do you think that I can be skilled as one of those warriors?” he asked.
“Even better. The chief may have you lead one of his tribes, and perhaps even replace him in chiefdom.”
My brother stood up, giggling and stomping his feet in excitement. He stopped when we heard people outside running in different directions. We stepped outside, seeing many villagers watching the hill. The chief, many of the warriors, and the white man were walking toward the village. Our sister, Amonute, followed behind. Some of the warriors led the white man back to where he was held earlier today. Amonute was walking toward us, when the chief turned around.
“Pocahontas.” he said sternly. He entered his longhouse, where our sister quickly followed. The warriors stood outside the door. This was a sign that a serious matter was happening inside, and not to disturb them until the chief comes out. The people hurriedly went back to their daily tasks. My brother and I briskly walked into the center of the village, looking for something to do, and to avoid the warriors’ solemn
