White Man's Eyes...

White Man’s Eyes.


Amonute lay in the canoe watching the clouds drift across the bright blue summer sky. She was fourteen and given to day-dreaming. When her daily chores were finished she had snuck away from the rabble of the tepees to while away the long hours till dusk in her own private world, always trying to find a place where the others wouldn’t discover her. Aimlessly, she had wandered down to the rivers edge where it skirted the Indian village and there, she had seen the canoe tied to the fallen tree. It had seemed a good hiding place, laying flat inside the hide-covered frame no-one could see her.

The gentle sway of the boat floating on the water was like a cradle and lulled her to a half sleep. When it began to rock more forcefully she roused from her dreaming. Amonute's eyes grew wide when she saw the frayed rope and realised the canoe had broken loose from its mooring.

As the current caught the canoe and swept it downstream into the faster flowing waters it tippled precariously. Amonute panicked as she saw the shore of the river receding, the canoe breached momentarily on a jutting rock before sliding back into the racing current. The white water rocked the hide canoe and Amonute clutched at the sides in alarm, screaming involuntarily. She smelt the smoke from the white mans settlement before the canoe rounded the bend of the river and a new fear rose in her.

John Rolfe stood on the river bank watching as the canoe hurtled over the rapids before coming to rest in the calmer water. Quickly he waded into the depths, caught the canoe and began to pull it to the embankment. Amonute shaken from the frightening ride, tremulously stared straight into the eyes of a white man for the first time.

Word count : 310