at dart before him was descending the bank. An
instant's breathless hush while they stared at the solitary figure; then
the dark forms bent forward for the rush straightened, and there arose a
cry of recognition. "The son of Powhatan! The son of Powhatan!"

He came down the hillside to the level of the hollow, the authority of
his look and gesture making way for him through the crowd that surged
this way and that, and walked up to us where we stood, hemmed round but
no longer in the clutch of our enemies.

"You were never more welcome, Nantaquas," I said to him, heartily.

Taking my hand in his, the chief turned to his frowning countrymen. "Men
of the [v]Pamunkeys!" he cried, "this is Nantaquas' friend, and so the
friend of all the tribes that called Powhatan 'father.' The fire is not
for him nor for his servant; keep it for the [v]Monacans and for the
dogs of the [v]Long House! The calumet is for the friend of Nantaquas,
and the dance of the maidens, the noblest buck and the best of the
fish-weirs."

There was a surging forward of the Indians and a fierce murmur of
dissent. The werowance, standing out from the throng, lifted his voice.
"There was a time," he cried, "when Nantaquas was the panther crouched
upon the bough above the leader of the herd; now Nantaquas is a tame
panther and rolls at the white men's feet! There was a time when the
word of the son of Powhatan weighed more than the lives of many dogs
such as these, but I know not why we should put out the fire at his
command! He is war chief no longer, for [v]Opechancanough will have no
tame panther to lead the tribes. Opechancanough is our head, and he
kindleth a fire indeed. We will give to this man what fuel we choose,
and to-night Nantaquas may look for his bones!"

He ended, and a great clamor arose. The Paspaheghs would have cast
themselves upon us again but for a sudden action of the young chief, who
had stood motionless, with raised hand and unmoved face, during the
werowance's bitter speech. Now he flung up his hand, and in it was a
bracelet of gold, carved and twisted like a coiled snake and set with a
green stone. I had never seen the toy before, but evidently others had.
The excited voices fell, and the Indians, Pamunkeys and Paspaheghs
alike, stood as though turned to stone.

Nantaquas smiled coldly. "This day hath Opechancanough made me war chief
again. We have smoked the peace pipe together--my father's brother and
I--in the starlight, sitt