Captain John Smith and Pocahontas Page #2

- Capt. John Smith!

- Aye!

You fools, this job calls for a gentleman,

not an adventurer.

As for me, I look into a man's heart.

Not whether he was born

between silken sheets.

Capt. Smith has my hand.

- Aye, and mine.

- With mine added to the number.

You're daft, all of you.

Mr. Wingfield's quality born.

He'll lead you well.

True words, every one of them.

What say you, Captain?

I can tell you better

when the votes are counted, Charlie.

All right, then let's put it to a vote.

Who speaks up for Mr. Wingfield?

- I do.

- And me.

Now, who speaks up for Capt. John Smith?

- Hurray!

- Capt. John Smith!

Have you more to say, Mr. Wingfield?

Aye, at my own time and choice.

My thanks to you, friends.

But I warn you fair,

it is no life of ease I promise.

You will not be picking up those golden

nuggets you dreamed of in England...

as gladsome Indian maids

sing lullabies of love in your ears.

No.

You will scratch for food and tighten

your belt as you dodge Indian arrows.

Well, enough talk. To work.

And the first to test your muscles,

a stockade for protection.

Come on, lads, to work.

John. Have a word with you?

Aye. Might as well.

I can't build this stockade by myself.

Have you worked out the rations?

The matter is even worse than I thought.

It'll have to be half-rations for all.

I doubt if even such a measure as that

will see us into the winter.

Then half-rations it'll be,

and quarter-rations if needful.

Perhaps wrinkled bellies

will move some of these gentlemen...

to hunt and scratch for their victuals.

Face it, Captain. Their hearts aren't in it.

These so-called gentlemen of quality

expect their inferiors to feed them.

Ten minutes after you announce half-rations

they'll all be Wingfield's men.

Piling out to the ships

to abandon the colony.

Then we must see to it they have no choice

in the matter.

By what means?

You'll discover in the morning.

In the meantime,

keep your inventory of the food to yourself.

Aye.

Capt. Smith!

Mr. Wingfield! Everybody up!

The ships, they're not there! Get up!

The ships! They're gone!

The ships are gone!

They've abandoned us.

- The ships, they're gone.

- Mutiny.

'Tis none of any.

- Look for yourself, they're gone.

- Aye, gone, by my order.

Those ships were our only hope.

And now he's doomed us to starve...

if the Indians don't save us the suffering

with their arrows.

- It'll mean our end.

- They were our only road to safety.

And as long as you had that thought

to depend on...

you had no thought

of depending upon yourselves.

Well, now you must,

if you mean to stay alive...

until the ship returns before winter

with new supplies.

And just what do we do

if the Indians swoop down upon us again?

We don't have ship's cannon to protect us.

I'm going to make our peace

with their great chief, Powhatan.

That old heathen has sworn the death

of every man here.

We can't spare men for a dangerous

expedition into the wilderness.

It would leave us at the mercy

of the first attack.

I take no fighters.

I ask only two volunteers.

Hark the wind he blows.

And who'd be daft enough...

to go with him to have his head planted

on an Indian stake?

Me!

My father said I'd live to be hung.

So why should I fear an Indian arrow?

- Good lad, Charles.

- I'm with you, Captain.

I'm beginning to think I'll find the red

man's company less a stink in my nostrils...

than some closer I could name.

Well, as you went along with this boaster

as he lived...

go with him as he dies.

And good riddance to all three of you.

Prepare yourselves, lads. We leave at once.

It's cursed hot, Captain.

There's a smell of water in the air.

It's the taste that interests me more.

There's no point in wandering aimlessly

through wilderness.

What do you suggest? As for me,

one tree looks much like the other.

I'm afraid we've missed our goal, John.

All right, here's my plan.

There must be a trail in the forest

leading toward the village.

Fleming, you scout to the south,

John will go west...

and I'll head up river.

- We'll meet back here at sunset. Agreed?

- Agreed.

One of us should have some luck.

Now take care you see the Indians

before they see you.

Never fear, good friend,

I'll be watching this scalp.

I had heard that the fishing was good

in Virginia waters...

but who would have expected fish

such as these.

The question was, how to angle for them?

But my mermaids were shy.

The worst of it is, they vanished

before I could gain from them a clue...

as to where Powhatan's village lay.

Now the question was...

how do you bait a hook

for a frightened mermaid?

Every hunter knows that it's easier

to trap wild game than chase it.

I decided to see what curiosity would do.

I knew I could count on feminine curiosity.

Now don't look so frightened.

I'm not going to hurt you.

You, Englishman?

Please let Pocahontas go.

So your name is Pocahontas.

Wouldn't Pocahontas like pretty beads?

No.

Please let me go.

All girls like pretty beads.

Now don't be so frightened.

Do I look as if I would hurt Pocahontas?

No.

So you're the daughter

of the chief of the Paspaheghans.

My father is chief of all tribes

from blue waters to great mountains.

He would be very angry

if you did not let me go.

Where does your father live?

Up river.

Now will you let me go?

I never met a girl

who was so anxious to get rid of me.

Now wouldn't Pocahontas like to see

pretty mirror?

You look into it, see pretty...

I thought this wild thing most lovely.

But I must confess, I never imagined...

that a chance meeting

with an Indian princess...

would not only change the entire course

of my life...

but would also decide

the history of Virginia.

- Which way?

- Up river.

- What's wrong?

- Same thing that scared yon crow.

- I see nothing unusual.

- The best reason to be watchful.

Don't shoot.

That Indian seems to know nothing

of armor.

That's taking a long chance, Captain.

He might aim at your face.

Get up. We mean you no harm.

Looks like he thinks

you're something kind of special, Captain.

It is to our interest

to have him continue to think that way.

Get up.

You Paspaheghan?

Paspaheghan. Nantaquas.

We come with friendship to visit Powhatan.

Powhatan does not like white skins.

But on white skins that are gods,

he will smile.

You are in no danger.

These white skins are spies who have crept

into our country to steal and to kill.

Their medicine is bad.

Devils of mischief, who would ravish

our women and defile our houses.

They kill with their breath,

as well as their weapons.

So that the flesh of our peoples turn into

biting sores and waste away from the bones.

All white skins are serpents

with forked tongue and poisoned fang.

Opechanco has spoken.

These white skins are gods.

To injure them will bring misfortune

to Powhatan and his people.

Arrows will not pierce their bodies...

but fall like dead leaves

blown by winter winds.

So the pale skin is a god

Rate this script:4.0 / 3 votes