: here a mass of something
painted red; there flashed a white arm, of a whiteness such as nature
never dyed, and there issued shoulders of a brilliant blue, as they
advanced dancing and shrieking.

"All their war paint on!" ejaculated Captain Waldo.

And in that moment John Smith lost his faith in the friendship Powhatan
had sworn to him, and he drew his sword, ready to pierce the first
oncomer.

Then he looked again ... and hastily thrust his sword back into its
scabbard, shouting to his comrades who had also drawn their blades,
"Hold!"

For there before him, the first of the dancers who had run out of the
forest, advanced Pocahontas! On her head she wore branching antlers, an
otter skin at her waist and one across her arm, a quiver at her back,
and she carried a bow and arrow in her hand. In a flash she realized
what the Englishmen were thinking--that they were caught in an ambush.

"My Brother!" she cried out in a tone that rang with disappointment,
"didst thou too doubt me? Tell them, thy companions, that I lay my life
in their hands if any harm was intended."

Seldom in his life had John Smith felt so at a loss as to what he should
reply. He hurriedly explained to the others that Pocahontas was
evidently intending to do them special honour in welcoming them with
some kind of sylvan masque. Then facing her, he cried:

"Forgive us, Matoaka, and be not angry that we mistook thy kindness.
See, we seat ourselves here upon the ground and we beseech thee that
thou and thy maidens will continue thy songs and thy dancing, which will
greatly divert us."

Pocahontas's disappointment vanished at once and she sped back with her
comrades to the woods, where they repeated their masque, this time to
the amusement of the Englishmen, who were somewhat ashamed to think that
they had been so frightened by a troop of girls. All of the dancers were
horned like their leader and the upper parts of their bodies and their
arms were painted red, white or blue. There was a fire blazing in the
centre of the field and around this they formed a ring, dancing and
singing a song which, while unlike anything Smith's companions had ever
heard, affected their pulses like drumbeats. Some of the words they sang
Smith was able to catch words of welcome, songs of young maidens in
which they told of the joys of childhood and of the days when
sweet-hearts would seek them and when they would follow some brave to
his wigwam.

Pocahontas, he thoug