tte did not sanction the changing the subject
of conversation by any one but the sovereign, she asked: "And how many
children hast thou?"

Queen Anne was pleased with her naturalness and told her of her son and
daughter and of the wonderful Prince Henry whom she had lost.

While they sat talking about their children as quietly as two plain
housewives, there was a commotion at the end of the hall. The pages
seemed very excited and uncertain what they ought to do. However, they
could not have prevented if they would, and into the hall, clad in his
long mantle, moccasins and with his headdress of feathers, strode
Uttamatomakkin. Pocahontas, looking up, saw that he was examining
eagerly all the furnishings of the hall and then his gaze was bent upon
the Queen.

"Is yon the squaw of the great white werowance?" he asked, "and is this
their ceremonial lodge? I have already beheld the King and he is a weak
little creature whom any child at Werowocomoco could knock down."

"Who is he, and what doth he say?" asked the Queen, who was delighted at
his strange appearance.

"It is one of my people, Madame, and he wishes to know if thou art
indeed the Queen that he may tell of thee when he returneth to
Wingandacoa." She did not think it wise to repeat the rest of his
remarks.

The Queen, whose curiosity was great in regard to this strange race from
overseas of whom she had heard so many tales, beckoned to Uttamatomakkin
to come closer. The Indian walked stolidly to the dais where she stood.

"What is this mantle made of?" asked the sovereign, taking up an end of
the painted and embroidered deerskin robe and rubbing it critically
between her fingers.

Uttamatomakkin, thinking this was the English form of salutation and not
intending to be outdone in politeness, caught hold of Queen Anne's
velvet skirt, and to the accompaniment of little shrieks of dismay from
the ladies-in-waiting, fingered it in the same manner.

"That must thou not do," remonstrated Pocahontas, trying not to laugh;
but Uttamatomakkin grunted:

"Why should I not do what a squaw doth?"

The Queen recovered her equanimity and in sign of her good will
unfastened a golden brooch and pinned it on the Indian's broad shoulder.
Then the chief broke off from his girdle a string of wampum, and before
any one realized what he intended doing, he had fastened it to a pearl
pin on the Queen's bodice.

"I see I cannot get the better of him. Lady Rebecca," laughed her