Smith was equal to the difficulties of his position; his was a mind fruitful in resources, and his high principle rendered him not only strict in the fulfilment of his own arduous duties, but enabled him to enforce the fulfilment of duty in others. Under the former governors the natives had become unfriendly, he, on the contrary, conciliated them; “he was more anxious,” says the record of the colony, “to gather provisions than to find gold;” and before the winter commenced, the Indians brought in voluntary supplies. The colonists also, influenced by his spirit, now laboured earnestly to complete their fortifications and erect huts for the winter. As soon as the new spirit of activity and hope had given a brighter aspect to the affairs of the colony, Smith set out to accomplish one of the strictly-enjoined purposes of the colonists; that, namely, of seeking for a communication with the South Sea, by ascending some river which flowed from the north-west. A little above Jamestown, a river called Chickahominy, and which flowed into the James river, seemed to answer this purpose, it being supposed that the continent of America was narrow, and that some river unquestionably would be found to serve as a connexion between the two seas. Smith, who was not as ignorant as his employers, and who entertained no expectation of reaching the Pacific Ocean by any such means, nevertheless was well pleased, having left the colony in a comparative state of comfort and prosperity, with abundant provisions for the winter, to diversify his life by new adventures. Advancing therefore up the river Chickahominy, accompanied by two Englishmen and two Indian guides, as far as was practicable by boat, he struck into the interior with a single Indian guide, leaving the boat under the guardianship of the two Englishmen. Scarcely, however, had he set forth when the English, disregarding some of his injunctions, were attacked and killed by the Indians, and he himself suddenly assailed by a large party. Binding his Indian guide to his arm as a buckler, he fought manfully, killing three of his assailants; unfortunately, however, in stepping backwards, he found himself on the edge of a morass; his feet sank, and he was taken prisoner. Accustomed to the views and sentiments of savage hordes in his captivity in southern Russia, he now availed himself of that knowledge, and acted in accordance with it. He neither begged for his life from the Indians, nor appeared cast down. They carried him away captive, but his self-possession never forsook him; marching through the forest he took out his pocket-compass and explained to them its use, and then from the globe-like figure of that instrument, as he himself relates, instructed them regarding the roundness of the earth, and how “the sun did chase the night about the earth continually.” His captivity among this tribe of Indians was a more wonderful and interesting event than any other preserved in their traditions.