In the last slivers of daylight, Pocahontas brought several small fish up to the makeshift shelter Nakoma had built using the overturned canoe and a few leafy tree branches lashed together with roots.

Nakoma had scoured the nearby trees for dry twigs. She tossed them in the small pit Pocahontas dug for a fire. Pocahontas kneeled down to start it with two small rocks she’d gathered from the river. She struck the rocks against each other, hoping for a spark, but nothing happened. She struck them again, but it was no use. “I’ve never started a fire this way, but I know it can work,” Pocahontas said, looking up at Nakoma’s amused face. “I don’t think it helps that they’re wet.”

“Try this.” Nakoma pulled a bundle from her satchel and unwrapped a small square-shaped piece of wood.

“You carry that with you?” Pocahontas asked, surprised. The piece of wood had small holes in it. At home, they used a tool like this to start a fire by rubbing a pointy stick in one of the holes to create a spark. Nakoma had even managed to keep it protected and dry in her satchel.

“I like to be prepared,” Nakoma said.

Pocahontas gratefully accepted the piece of wood and found a stick nearby. She used the river rock to sharpen the stick, and soon they had a fire going.

The girls sat down next to the blaze. Pocahontas cleaned the fish, and the girls held them over the flames to roast. They watched the fish cook for a while in silence, then Nakoma finally spoke.

“I don’t hate you, you know,” Nakoma said.

Pocahontas looked at her, eyebrows raised. “You don’t?”

“Of course not,” Nakoma said. “How could I possibly hate you? You’re Pocahontas, daughter of the chief. You’re adventurous and brave and strong. You’re always doing amazing things, like helping an injured animal, or running faster than all the boys, or chasing a snake away from someone’s garden.” Nakoma nudged the fish in the fire with a stick, avoiding eye contact. “Or putting yourself in danger to save my little brother.”

Pocahontas didn’t know what to say. She supposed she had done all those things, but she had no idea Nakoma had been paying attention or even cared. “I put you in danger, too, though,” Pocahontas added after a few moments.

“You did,” Nakoma agreed. “You’re kind of terrible at planning, you know?” Nakoma said this part with a giggle, which made Pocahontas laugh, too.

“I think that’s pretty clear,” Pocahontas said, motioning to their temporary shelter and broken boat.

“But at the same time,” Nakoma continued, “I wish I could be more like you.”

“A terrible planner?” Pocahontas asked.

Nakoma shook her head. “Just more…free. You go where the wind takes you.”

“It must be hard for you to do that when you have your little brother and sister to look after all the time. Every time I see you, you’re busy minding them and helping your family with chores. Helping everyone, really.” Pocahontas realized as she said this that it was true. Every time she saw her, Nakoma was doing something for someone else.

“Ha,” Nakoma sputtered. “Some helper I am. I couldn’t even tell my own brother was sick.” She bit her lip.

“It’s not your fault,” Pocahontas said. “When we get back, and Tomoy is healed, and everything is okay again, I promise to help you take care of them.”

Nakoma wiped a tear that had just begun to fall. “Why?” she asked, confused.

“Why not?” Pocahontas replied. She removed the fish from the fire and handed one to Nakoma, taking another for herself. “I don’t have any little siblings of my own. It would be fun, and you could use the break.”

“It’s not fun,” Nakoma said. “I promise you, it’s not fun.”

Pocahontas laughed. “We can make it fun,” she said.

The girls, overtaken by hunger, ate their dinner without saying anything in between bites. But Pocahontas thought as she chewed. Nakoma was surprising her on this trip. First by being willing to go at all. And second by how easily the girls talked to each other now that they didn’t have a river, or bean fields, or younger siblings in between them. Perhaps they could be friends after all.

When their dinner was done and their hungry bellies satisfied, the girls rested next to the fire and looked up at the sky, keeping warm in spite of the increased chill nipping at them.

“I’ve been thinking,” Nakoma said after a few minutes.

“Oh?” Pocahontas asked. She wondered if Nakoma had been thinking about the possibilities of their future friendship, as well.

“Since the boat is broken now and can’t go back in the water, I think we should just forget about the plant and walk home when it’s light again,” Nakoma said.

That was not what Pocahontas had expected to hear. “Are you sure?” she asked.

“I know we’d miss the chance to bring back the medicine for Tomoy, but your father and Kekata believed the men would make it back in time. I’d rather get home so my parents stop worrying.” Nakoma’s voice was soft through the sound of the crackling fire. Pocahontas knew she wasn’t making this decision lightly.

“I think you’re right,” Pocahontas said.

“You do?” Nakoma sounded surprised.

“I took on more than I could handle,” Pocahontas admitted. “We should have listened to the grown-ups. I guess maybe they really do know better.”

“Well, not all the time.” Nakoma giggled.

“No, not all the time,” Pocahontas said with a laugh. “Definitely not.”

As night fell, the two girls chatted across the fire, learning more about each other, sharing stories about their families, and finding new differences and similarities between them. Although they’d both be in quite a bit of trouble when they returned to their families, home was home, and they couldn’t wait to get back there. They soon drifted off into a deep sleep, ready to wake at dawn and face the journey to their village.