nd daughters. He was as brave a
fighter but not as great a leader in peace as Wahunsunakuk. It irked
him that he had to give way to his brother and that he must obey his
commands; yet he knew that only by unity between the different tribes of
the seacoast could they be safe from their common enemies, the Iroquois.
His vanity was very great and he had felt hurt at the ridicule which
Pocahontas had caused to fall upon him. Had she come on her visit sooner
he had surely not received her so kindly. But now there were other
strange happenings and more important matters to consider, and he was
too wise a chief to worry long over a child's pranks. Besides, he had
learned, from his own observance and from the tongues of others, how his
brother cherished her more than any of his squaws or children. So policy
as well as his native hospitality dictated a kindly reception.

In the morning after they had eaten, Opechanchanough offered to send
Pocahontas and her maidens in a canoe down to where a cape jutted out
into the ocean that they might see the breakers at their highest, but
Pocahontas declined.

"Nay, Uncle," she said, "but my maidens have never seen the sea. They be
stay-at-homes and I would not affright them too sorely by the sight of
mountains of water. Have no care for us save to bid some one supply us
with food to take along. I know the way down to a smooth beach where we
can disport ourselves."

So Opechanchanough, relieved to have them off his hands, let her have
her will.

The town was within a mile of open water, and the maidens started off
with a large supply of dried flesh slung in osier baskets on their
backs. Some of the young braves looked after them as they went and
disputed as to which of them they would like to choose as squaw when
they were older.

Pocahontas led the way through wild rose bushes and sumac, with here and
there an occasional tall pine tree, its lowest branches high above their
heads. They were all of them in the gayest humor: it was a day made for
pleasure, and they had not a care in the world. They sang as they walked
and joked each other, Pocahontas herself not escaping.

"Did the bear, thy bedfellow, scratch thee?" asked one, "and didst thou
outdo him, for this morning he was not to be found near the lodge."

"Perhaps," suggested another, "it was not a real bear cub but some evil
manitou."

The maidens shuddered deliciously at this possibility.

"Nonsense," called back Pocahontas,