recital the shaman, or
medicine-man, rose and sang a song of praise about the brave Pamunkeys,
brothers of the Powhatans.

Then, one after another, Opechanchanough's braves told of their personal
exploits.

"I," sang one, "I, the Forest Wolf, have devoured mine enemy. Many suns
shall set red between the forest trees, but none so red as the blood
that flowed when my sharp knife severed his scalp lock."

And as each recited his deeds his words were received with clappings of
hands and grunts of approval.

Powhatan gave orders to open the guest lodge and to prepare a feast for
the victors. Then Opechanchanough rose again to speak. After he had
finished another song of triumph, he turned to Powhatan and asked:

"Brother, how long hath it been that thy warriors keep within their
lodges, leaving to young squaws the duty of sentinels who cannot
distinguish friends from foes?"

Powhatan gazed at the speaker in astonishment.

"What dost thou mean by such strange words?" asked the chief.

"As we returned through the forest," explained Opechanchanough, "before
we reached the boundary of thy fields, while we still believed that a
part of the Monachans might lie in ambush for us there, an arrow, shot
from the westward, flew before my face. Then came a second arrow out of
the branches of an oak tree. We took the bowman prisoner, and what
thinkest thou we found?--a squaw child!"

"A squaw child!" repeated Powhatan in astonishment. "Was it one of this
village?"

"Even so. Brother. I have her captive outside that thou mayst pronounce
judgment upon one who endangers thus the life of thy brother and who
forgetteth she is not a boy. Bring in the prisoner," he commanded.

But no one came forward. The young braves to whom Pocahontas had been
entrusted kept wisely on the outskirts of the crowd.

Then the little sombre figure at Powhatan's feet rose and stood with
the firelight shining on her face and dark hair and asked in a gentle
voice:

"Didst thou want me, mine uncle?"

"Pocahontas," exclaimed Opechanchanough, "how camest thou here ahead of
us, and in that dark robe?"

"Pocahontas can run even better than she can shoot. Uncle, and the
changing of a robe is the matter but of a moment."

"What meaneth this, Matoaka?" asked Powhatan, making use of her special
intimate name, which signified Little Snow Feather. He spoke in a low
tone, but one so stern that Cleopatra shivered and rejoiced that she was
not the culprit.