unsunakuk, Chief of the Powhatans and many tribes, am the trunk, and
one of my many branches is that of the Chickahominies and one that is
very close to my heart. My children have done well and the Powhatan
thanks them for their brave deeds. Now can your young braves go forth
upon the hunt unharmed and bring back meat for feastings and hides for
their squaws to fashion."

He paused and all the eyes of his people in the lodge were bent on him
with the same question.

"My children ask of me 'What shall we do with these captives?' and I
make answer, feast them first, that they may not say that the Powhatans
are greedy and give not to strangers. Then when they have feasted let
them run the gauntlet."

He waved his hand in token that he had finished speaking, and the glad
news was shouted from the lodge to the eager crowd without. Pocahontas
knew as well as if she could see them that the squaws were hurrying
about to prepare the food, and from her low seat she could see between
the legs of the braves before her how a number of boys were lying on
their stomachs, trying to wriggle into the lodge that they might hear
for themselves the interesting things going on and observe for
themselves whether the captives showed any sign of fear.

Now Powhatan gave an order and all seated themselves on the ground or on
mats in lines facing him. Then in came the squaws bearing large wooden
and grass-woven dishes of food. There were hot cakes of maize and wild
turkeys and fat raccoons. The captives were served first and none of
them refused. They would not let their enemies believe that fear of
their coming fate could spoil their appetites. So, after throwing the
first piece of meat into the fire as an offering to Okee, they ate
eagerly.

One of them who sat nearest the front, Pocahontas noticed, was but
little older than herself. He was too young to be a brave; perhaps, she
thought, he had run off from home and had followed the war party, as she
had heard of boys in her own tribe doing. She wondered if now he was
regretting that his eagerness for adventure had made his first warpath
his last one.

When they had feasted the squaws passed around bunches of turkey
feathers for them to wipe their greasy fingers on, and in every way the
captives were treated with that exaggerated courtesy that was customary
towards those about to be tortured.

Then Powhatan rose, and, preceded and followed by several of his fifty
armed guards chosen fro