peered eagerly through the
crevices till Pocahontas commanded them to be off. Hearing a noise
within the lodge, she was about to bear the food inside when Smith
stepped to the entrance.

He was astonished to see the kind of sentinel they had set to guard him.
He had expected to find that his unexpected guest would be waiting
outside for another chance at his life, and he preferred to hasten the
moment. He realized that this maiden, however, would be as efficient a
gaoler as a score of braves. Should he dream of escaping, of finding his
way without guides or even his compass, back to Jamestown, her outcry
would bring the entire village to her aid. He recognized his saviour of
the day before and bowed low, a bow meant for the princess and for his
protector. Pocahontas, though a European salutation was as strange to
her as Indian ways were to him, felt sure his ceremonious manner was
intended to do her honor, and received it gravely and graciously.

"Here is food for thee, White Chief," she said, placing it on a mat she
had spread on the ground; "sit and eat."

"It is welcome," he answered, "yet first harken to me. I have not words
of thy tongue, little Princess, to pay thee for thy great gift, and
though my words were as plentiful as the grains of sand by the waters,
they were still too few to offer thee."

"Gifts made to chiefs," she answered with a dignity copied from her
father's, "can never pay for princely benefits."

Smith could not help smiling at the grandiloquence of the child's
language, for in spite of her height, he realized that her years were
but few.

"Yet," she continued, seating herself, "it pleaseth me to receive thy
thanks."

Now she put aside her grown-up air and her curious glances were those of
the child she was. She fingered gently the sleeve of his doublet stained
by the morass in which he had been captured and torn by the briars of
the forests through which he had been led.

"'Tis good English cloth," he remarked, "to have withstood such storm,
and I bless the sheep on whose backs it grew."

"What beasts are those?" she queried, and Smith endeavored to explain
the various uses and the looks of Southdown flocks.

"Did thy squaws make thy coat for thee when thou hadst slain that--that
new beast?"

"I have no squaw, little Princess."

"I am glad," she sighed.

"And why?"

"I do not know", her brow wrinkling as she tried to fathom her own
feelings. "Perhaps it is because now thou wi