st not made sport of me."

"Why should anyone make sport of thee? It is not strange that the aspen
should quiver when the wind blows, nor that thou shouldst be swayed by
the spirit that is within thee, Matoaka. Some day--"

He was interrupted by a piercing scream from the depth of the forest. He
sprang to his feet; all the dreaminess of his attitude and mood had
vanished; he pulled an arrow from his quiver fitted it to the string in
readiness to shoot. Was it possible, he wondered, for any war party of
their enemies to have ventured so near Powhatan's stronghold without
having been halted at other villages belonging to his people? Pocahontas
too was on her feet, her head on one side, listening intently.

Again came the scream, then Nautauquas loosened his bow, saying:

"That is no human cry. It is a wildcat in agony. Let us go and see what
aileth it."

They ran swiftly towards the point from which the sound had come. Again
came the cry to guide them, and then there was silence as they ran
through the moonlight checkered by the shadows of the trees.

Nautauquas stood still suddenly, so suddenly that Pocahontas behind him
could not stop quickly enough and fell against him and almost down into
a ravine that lay beneath, but Nautauquas caught her on the very brink.

"It is down there," he pointed; "there must be a trap, I think. Let us
descend very carefully."

They clambered down through the darkness made by the overhanging bushes
and rocks. At the bottom the light was not obscured, and they beheld the
striped body of a large wildcat caught in a trap.

"Look," cried Pocahontas excitedly, "there is another beast just there
in those bushes. Our coming must have frightened it. He has been trying
to kill the one in the trap, that cannot defend himself."

"That is so," assented Nautauquas, making ready to shoot the beast that
was at liberty in case it should spring towards them. But the animal
evidently had no taste that night for an encounter with human beings,
and slouched off and up the side of the ravine. The imprisoned animal,
they could see, was bleeding from a large wound on its back, and in the
moonlight its eyes shone like fire.

"Poor beast!" exclaimed Nautauquas compassionately. "I would free him if
he would let me touch him. As it is he will have to starve to death
unless his enemy comes back to finish him."

"No," said Pocahontas, "that need not be. I will loose him and bind up
his wound if thou wilt c