ying with terror or hunger she began to pray,
prayers that came from the depth of her heart that she might reach him
before he really suffered. But these prayers were not to the God of the
Christians, but to the Okee her fathers had worshipped.

Many times the trail was almost invisible. There was little passing of
feet this way and in no place was there anything like a path. But
Pocahontas's eyes, keener than even in the days when they had rivalled
her brother's in following in play the trail the pursued did his best to
cover up, were never long at fault. The ground, the bushes from which
raindrops had been shaken, a broken twig--all helped her read the way
she was to go. If she could only tell whether she were gaining!

What she would do when she came face to face with the thief she did not
know. If he were a strong man who defied her command to give up the
grandson of Powhatan, how should she compel him? She had started off so
hastily that she had not armed herself with any weapon. But she did not
doubt that in some way or other she would wrest her child from him.

The sun was sinking; its beams, she saw, struck now the lower part of
the tree trunks. Seeing this, she quickened her step; once the night
fell she would have to lie down and wait for morning for fear of missing
the trail.

It was almost dark when she reached a sort of open space the size of
three lodges width, where doubtless the coming of many wild beasts to
drink of a spring that bubbled up in the centre had worn down the
growth of young trees. On one side of the ground where moss and creeping
crowfoot grew, there were overhanging rocks which formed a small cave
not much deeper than a man's height.

No longer could she see a footprint in the dusk, so Pocahontas sadly
prepared to spend the night in this shelter. She leaned down and drank
long from the spring, and taking off her moccasins, bathed her tired
feet in it. Then because she wanted a fire more for its companionship
than for the warmth, she gathered twigs, and twirling one in a bit of
rotten wood, soon produced a spark that lighted a cheerful blaze.

There was nothing to be gained by staying awake. There was no one from
whom she had anything to fear except possibly the thief, and the sooner
they met the better pleased she would be. She was drowsy from the warmth
of the fire and tired from the long pursuit, so Pocahontas lay down at
the entrance of the cave, half within and half without, and