ns of his own
slaying. Go thou forth and kill a deer that I may soften its hide and
make a covering of it for thy feet."

So Nautauquas had taken his bow and a quiver of arrows, and while
Pocahontas and Cleopatra were sporting at the waterfall he had sought a
pond whose surface was all but covered with fragrant water lilies, and
he had hidden behind a sumac, bush, waiting patiently till a buck came
down alone to drink. Only one arrow did he spend, which found its place
between the wide branched antlers; then the hunter had waded into the
pond, pushing aside the lily pads, and with one cut of his knife he had
put an end to the struggling deer. Now he was bearing it home and he
thought with eagerness of the savory meat it would yield him on the
morrow. There was no doubt that he would have appetite ready for it, as
all day long he had eaten nothing. It had been easy enough for him to
have killed a squirrel and roasted it, but Nautauquas, knowing it was
part of a brave's training to accustom himself to hunger, often fasted a
long time voluntarily.

The night was a dark one, but now that the moon had risen, long vistas
of light shone down the forest avenues, generally at that time so free
from underbrush. Nautauquas, looking up through the branches at the
moon, thought how it was the squaw of the sun and remembered the queer
tales the old women were fond of relating about it.

Suddenly before him he saw a creature dancing down the moon-path,
whirling and springing about while a pair of rabbits, that were startled
in crossing the path, scurried off into a clump of sassafras bushes
nearby. Then, as if reassured, they sat there calmly, even when the
dancing figure came closer to them. And Nautauquas heard singing, though
the words of the song did not come to his ears. He slipped behind an oak
tree and watched the dancer advance. Now that it was nearer he
discovered that it was a young girl; her only garment, a skirt of white
buckskin, napped against her firm bare brown legs and a necklace of
white shells clicked as she spun about. In the branches above some
squirrels, awakened from their slumber, straightened their furry tails
and began to chatter and a screech-owl tuwitted and tuwhoed. There was
something familiar in the outlines, and Nautauquas was therefore not
completely astonished when, turning about, she showed the face of
Pocahontas.

"Matoaka," he cried, stepping from the shadow; "what dost thou here
alone at nigh