uaw duties in her wigwam. And Powhatan's favorite
daughter or not, Pocahontas should be kept waiting outside her father's
lodge until he had related his important business and had recounted all
the glorious deeds done by his Pamunkeys.

Now they had come to Werowocomoco itself, and the noise of their
shoutings and of their war drums brought the inhabitants running out of
their wigwams. As the Pamunkeys were an allied tribe, their cause
against a common enemy was the same, yet the rejoicings at the victory
against the Monachans was somewhat less than it would have been had the
conquerors been Powhatans themselves. However, Opechanchanough and his
braves could not complain of their reception, and runners sped ahead to
advise Powhatan of their coming, while all the population of their
village crowded about them, the men questioning, the boys fingering the
scalps and each boasting how many he would have at his girdle when he
was grown.

The great Werowance was not in his ceremonial lodge but in the one in
which he ordinarily slept and ate when at Werowocomoco. Opechanchanough
paused at the opening of the lodge and ordered:

"When I call out then bring ye in Pocahontas, and we shall see what
Powhatan thinks of a squaw child that shoots at warriors."

The lodge was almost dark when he entered it. Before the fire in the
centre he could see his brother Powhatan seated, and on each side of him
one of his wives. Then he made out the features of his nephew Nautauquas
and Pocahontas' younger sister, Cleopatra (for so it was the English
later understood the girl's strange Indian name). They had evidently
just been eating supper and the dogs behind them were gnawing the wild
turkey bones that had been thrown to them. At Powhatan's feet crouched a
child in a dark robe, with face in the shadow.

Powhatan greeted his brother gravely and bade him be seated. The lodge
soon filled with braves packed closely together, and about the opening
crowded all who could, and these repeated to the men and squaws left
outside the words that were spoken within.

Proudly Opechanchanough began to tell how he had tracked the Monachans
to a hill above the river, and how he and his war party had fallen upon
them, driving them down the steep banks, slaying and scalping, even
swimming into the icy water to seize those who sought to escape. And The
Powhatan nodded in approval, uttering now and again a word of praise.
When Opechanchanough had finished his