THERE was once a very brave man whose name was John
Smith. He came to this country many years ago, when there
were great woods everywhere, and many wild beasts and
Indians. Many tales are told of his
adventures, some of them true and some of them untrue.
Among the latter is the following story:—
One day when Smith was in the woods, some Indians came upon
him, and made him their prisoner. They led him to their
king, and in a short time they made ready to put him to
A large stone was brought in, and Smith was made to lie down
with his head on it. Then two tall Indians with big clubs
in their hands came forward. The king and all his great men
stood around to see. The Indians raised their clubs. In
another moment they would fall on Smith's head.
But just then a little Indian girl rushed in. She was the
daughter of the king, and her name was
Pocahontas. She ran and threw herself between Smith and the
uplifted clubs. She clasped Smith's head with her arms. She laid her
own head upon his.
"O father!" she cried, "spare this man's life. I
 am sure he has done you no harm, and we ought to be his
The men with the clubs could not strike, for they did not
want to hurt the child. The king at first did not know
what to do. Then he spoke to some of his
warriors, and they lifted Smith from the ground. They untied the cords from
his wrists and feet, and set him free.
The next day the king sent Smith home; and several Indians
went with him to protect him from harm.
After that, as long as she lived,
Pocahontas was the friend of the white men, and she did a great many things
to help them.