s side and held out his hand. His
eyes met mine in somber inquiry, half eager, half proudly doubtful. I
went to him at once and took his hand in mine. No word was spoken.
Presently he withdrew his hand from my clasp, and, putting his finger to
his lips, whistled low to the Indian girl. She drew aside the mats, and
we passed out, Diccon and I, leaving him standing as we had found him,
upright against the post, in the red firelight.

Should we ever go through the woods, pass through that gathering storm,
reach Jamestown, warn them there of the death that was rushing upon
them? Should we ever leave that hated village? Would the morning ever
come? It was an alarm that was sounding, and there were only two to
hear; miles away beneath the mute stars English men and women lay
asleep, with the hour thundering at their gates, and there was none to
cry, "Awake!" I could have cried out in that agony of waiting, with the
leagues on leagues to be traveled and the time so short! I saw, in my
mind's eye, the dark warriors gathering, tribe on tribe, war party on
war party, thick crowding shadows of death, slipping through the silent
forest ... and in the clearings the women and children!

It came to an end, as all things earthly will. When the ruffled pools
amid the marshes were rosy red beneath the sunrise, the women brought us
food, and the warriors and old men gathered about us. I offered them
bread and meat and told them that they must come to Jamestown to taste
the white man's cookery.

Scarcely was the meal over when Opechancanough issued from his lodge,
and, coming slowly up to us, took his seat upon the white mat that was
spread for him. Through his scalp lock was stuck an eagle's feather;
across his face, from temple to chin, was a bar of red paint; the eyes
above were very bright and watchful.

One of his young men brought a great pipe, carved and painted, stem and
bowl; it was filled with tobacco, lit, and borne to the emperor. He put
it to his lips and smoked in silence, while the sun climbed higher and
higher and the golden minutes that were more precious than heart's blood
went by swiftly.

At last, his part in the solemn mockery played, he held out the pipe to
me.

"The sky will fall, and the rivers will run dry, and the birds cease to
sing," he said, "before the smoke of this peace-pipe fades from the
land."

I took the symbol of peace and smoked it as silently and soberly as he
had done before me, then laid it