Some Three Hundred Years Ago | Page 4

morning of the third day, as he scanned the ocean to the East, he
discerned a distant white speck.
Slowly it shaped itself, and he realized that once again he was watching
the approach of a white man's vessel. It seemed to be heading for his
very island. Nonowit watched cautiously, ready to find safety in the
rocky caves in case these proved unfriendly people.
The vessel dropped anchor and a small boat brought eight men ashore.

The leader was Capt. John Smith, who had sailed from England to learn
what he could of the New World, and whether it was a desirable place
for colonists. As this group of small islands attracted him, he had
landed to see what could be found.
Nonowit, from his hiding place, watched the astonishment of the white
men when they came upon the burning coals of his fire. Then his turn
of surprise came, for one face of that group was familiar to him. The
features of Jacques had been stamped upon his boyhood mind, never to
be erased. He now recognized the French boy who, since that first trip
across the ocean, had learned his father's art of cooking and had hired
out as steward to this English captain.
Springing from his cave, Nonowit appeared before the wondering men,
who drew back, fearing him one of a band of hidden Indians. Suddenly,
Jacques caught a glimpse of the knife, cut with his own mark, thrust
into the Indian's belt. It was the very dirk he had won by his
well-danced hornpipe on his voyage with M. Champlain.
After an exchange of friendly greetings, the Indian led the English
party about and visited with them the smaller islands of the group. The
low green bushes and bold rocky shores surrounded by the sparkling
ocean so pleased Captain Smith that he gave the group his own name,
calling Smith's Isles what later have been known as the Isles of Shoals.
The seamen learned of Nonowit's lost canoe and offered to take him
ashore. As they approached the mainland, the wooded coast with its
lone mountain and later the safe harbor and rocky shores were most
attractive to these Englishmen.
On through the Narrows they sailed, as did Martin Pring many years
before. This time, Nonowit was aboard the vessel that his people
watched from the bank by the fresh spring where they had made their
encampment. It is near the spot where Portsmouth markets now stand.
Perhaps the first marketing was done that day, for Captain Smith was
ready to trade knives, beads, fish lines, and hooks for the furs the
Indians offered. Jacques prepared stews and porridge for these new
friends, and in turn the Indians feasted the sailors upon maize and bear

meat.
After Nonowit had well described the coast lines to Captain Smith, he
presented dried fish and deer meat for the journey, and to Jacques, for
his own use, the skin of a bear. Although Nonowit was urged to sail
with the party, he refused.
Captain Smith continued along the coast to the point now known as
Cape Cod and then, returning, found others of his party whom he had
left fishing at the mouth of the Penobscot River.
With salted fish and furs from Indian trading, Captain Smith returned to
England, elated with the charm of the New Land. He published a map
of the seacoast with a vivid description of the country and presented it
to Prince Charles who named the region New England, and so, ever
since, it has been called.

THE SETTLEMENT
In a little thatched cottage in old Portsmouth of Hampshire, England,
Roger Low sat on a stool by his father's knee, while the light of the fire
flickered over the heavy settles and on the rafters above. The man was
still in his working clothes, with his hammer and saw at his side.
"This new world they tell me of, my boy, must be a wonderful place.
Those Puritan leaders, Bradford and Standish three years ago, in 1620,
took their followers to New England to worship as they pleased. And
now the Laconia Company, of which our own Governor, John Mason,
is a member, has been given a grant of land there."
"What can he do with it, father?" Roger asked.
"They say, lad, the furs of those forests and the fish of those waters
would make a big business for England."
A knock at the door brought the man to his feet. On opening it, he
bowed low to the gentleman waiting.

"Come in, sir, and be seated."
David Thompson took the opposite settle, quite ignoring Roger, who
had risen in respect. Absorbed in his own plans this Scotchman,
Thompson, broke out at once, "Low, I want you to pick up your tools
and come