# Aristopia/Chapter 3

With as much promptness as possible Captain Smith (the rest of the council seeming paralyzed by the catastrophe) got the men at work to rebuild the houses and palisade. Chopping was new and at first very severe work for Ralph, but he was wise enough not to overwork till he was somewhat inured to the toil. His hands soon became so stiff and blistered that each morning when he grasped his axhandle anew it seemed that the torture was more than he could bear. There were two young gallants of the "first supply," whose jeweled fingers had never held anything rougher than a bridle-rein and were much more dexterous with cards than with any useful tool. Almost every blow these fellows dealt with their smarting hands was accompanied with an oath. Captain Smith, although bred in camps, being a man who had religion much at heart, was much offended at this profanity, and at last told the offenders that for ​every oath they should have a can of cold water poured down their sleeves. He carried out his threat, or at least a part of it, and the two gallants swore no more above their breath. In a few weeks, such was their spirit, they became pretty fair woodsmen, and loved almost as much to make the tall trees come thundering down as in England they had loved to ride to the death of the fox. But there were few of their spirit among that band. Ralph was industrious and determined, but he had not the high and reckless spirit of the two gallants.
At first the shelterless men suffered much at night from the cold. Ralph and a chosen comrade, out of work hours, soon constructed a shelter of brush, and provided a good bed of leaves gathered in the woods. They had to watch closely to keep their blankets from being stolen.
Toward spring a bed of sand heavily charged with powdered iron pyrites was discovered near the village. The glittering stuff was supposed to be gold, and immediately the little colony went wild. Fortunately their cabins had been rebuilt or they would have neglected that necessary task to gather gold. There were three or four of the "first supply" who ​had come out as refiners, and these were the craziest of the lot. There was no talk but of digging gold, washing gold, refining gold, and loading gold. There were only two men in the community whose heads were not turned. They were Smith and Morton. The latter had learned something about minerals, and pronounced the stuff sulphuret of iron, much to the disgust of the self-styled refiners.
Captain John Martin, one of the council, was the discoverer of the "mine," and the leader of the gold-liunters. One day Smith broke out upon him:
"I tell you, man, I am tormented as never before to see all necessary business neglected to load your crazy ship with this gilded dirt. I applaud not your golden inventions; not because you do not admit me to a sight of your trials and golden consultations,—you and these loud-mouthed refiners, who I doubt ever refined anything,—but because in all this time they have not been able to show me a more substantial token, and turn out something which looks as if it might make a sovereign or a golden ring, instead of mere dross. I am not enamored of such dirty skill."
At last the ship was laden with the glitter​ing dust, and fourteen weeks after her arrival she departed. With her departed two of the council, Wingfield and Archer, who had arrogated to themselves a number of pompous titles, but were despised by the colonists, who gladly saw them go.
Through Newport's sloth, the ship had lain so long that her crew had eaten up a large part of what was intended for the colonists. Smith had been a careful trader with the Indians, but Newport was a reckless prodigal, and loaded them with gifts until they scorned to give anything in trade. But before this the sailors and soldiers had been allowed to trade freely with the Indians, and they embezzled much of the stores in illicit traffic. Some favorite of the company had set up a tavern for the sale of victuals and drink, and, as one colonist wrote home: "Those that had either money, spare clothes, or credit to give bills of paiment, gold rings, furrs, or any such commodities were ever welcome to this removing tavern, and we might buy our owne provisions at 15 times the value." This tavern seems to have much resembled the sutler tent of a modern army.
Smith and Scrivener did their best, but the ​majority of the council seemed possessed by the demon of folly, and overruled all wise counsels. Through exposure while houseless, but much more through their folly and recklessness, nearly half of the colonists died between the arrival of the Sea Gull and that of the Phœnix.
Ralph Morton, by his prudent care of himself, kept in good health. The colonists were made to labor on the public works only six hours a day, and Ralph soon became inured to this. Much of his spare time was spent in learning the language of the Powhatans. He first learned what he could from Captain Smith, and especially that key to learning of those who understand nothing of the learner's language, the question, "What do you call this?" in the Powhatan language, "Kakatorawines yowo?" Then he took for his teacher an Indian boy whom Powhatan had given as hostage to Newport on the latter's visit to Werowocomoco. This boy's name was Namontack, and he was a shrewd and intelligent fellow.
The colonists succeeded in getting about thirty acres cleared and planted in good season with Indian corn. Near the end of cornplanting the Phœnix arrived, bringing about ​fifty new immigrants. When she had parted eompany with her consort off the capes she had been blown far southward and had put into a port of the West Indies for repairs. Being in bad condition, these repairs took considerable time, but she reached Jamestown without the loss of a man. Her arrival cheered the unfortunate colony considerably. Captain Martin desired to lade this ship with his supposed gold, but Smith prevailed and had her loaded with cedar.