ing me his friendship and my libertie."

This rather destroys the long-familiar romance of the doughty captain's
life being saved by "the king's own daughter," but it seems to be the
only true version of the story, based upon his own original report.

But though the oft-described "rescue" did not take place, the valiant
Englishman's attention was speedily drawn to the agile little Indian
girl, Ma-ta-oka, whom her father called his "tomboy," or po-ca-hun-tas.

She was as inquisitive as any young girl, savage or civilized, and she
was so full of kindly attentions to the captain, and bestowed on him so
many smiles and looks of wondering curiosity, that Smith made much of
her in return, gave her some trifling presents and asked her name.

Now it was one of the many singular customs of the American Indians
never to tell their own names, nor even to allow them to be spoken to
strangers by any of their own immediate kindred. The reason for this lay
in the superstition which held that the speaking of one's real name gave
to the stranger to whom it was spoken a magical and harmful influence
over such person. For the Indian religion was full of what is called the
supernatural.

So, when the old chief of the Pow-ha-tans (who, for this very reason,
was known to the colonists by the name of his tribe, Pow-ha-tan,
rather than by his real name of Wa-bun-so-na-cook) was asked his little
daughter's name, he hesitated, and then gave in reply the nick-name by
which he often called her, Po-ca-hun-tas, the "little tomboy"--for this
agile young maiden, by reason of her relationship to the head chief,
was allowed much more freedom and fun than was usually the lot of Indian
girls, who were, as a rule, the patient and uncomplaining little drudges
of every Indian home and village.

So, when Captain Smith left Wero-woco-moco, he left one firm friend
behind him,--the pretty little Indian girl, Ma-ta-oka,--who long
remembered the white man and his presents, and determined, after her
own wilful fashion, to go into the white man's village and see all their
wonders for herself.

In less than a year she saw the captain again, For when, in the fall
of 1608, he came to her father's village to invite the old chief to
Jamestown to be crowned by the English as "king" of the Pow-ha-tans,
this bright little girl of twelve gathered together the other little
girls of the village, and, almost upon the very spot where, many years
after, Cornwallis was to s