ed at the solitary figure; then
the dark forms bent forward for the rush straightened, and there arose a
loud cry of recognition. "The son of Powhatan! The son of Powhatan!"

He came down the hillside to the level of the hollow, the authority of
his look and gesture making way for him through the crowd that surged
this way and that, and walked up to us where we stood, hemmed round,
but no longer in the clutch of our enemies. "It was a very big wolf this
time, Captain Percy," he said.

"You were never more welcome, Nantauquas," I answered,--"unless, indeed,
the wolf intends making a meal of three instead of two."

He smiled. "The wolf will go hungry to-day." Taking my hand in his he
turned to his frowning countrymen. "Men of the Pamunkeys!" he cried.
"This is Nantauquas' friend, and so the friend of all the tribes that
called Powhatan 'father.' The fire is not for him nor for his servant;
keep it for the Monacans and for the dogs of the Long House! The calumet
is for the friend of Nantauquas, and the dance of the maidens, the
noblest buck and the best of the weirs"--

There was a surging forward of the Indians, and a fierce murmur of
dissent. The werowance, standing out from the throng, lifted his voice.
"There was a time," he cried, "when Nantauquas was the panther crouched
upon the bough above the leader of the herd; now Nantauquas is a tame
panther and rolls at the white men's feet! There was a time when the
word of the son of Powhatan weighed more than the lives of many dogs
such as these, but now I know not why we should put out the fire at his
command! He is war chief no longer, for Opechancanough will have no
tame panther to lead the tribes. Opechancanough is our head, and
Opechancanough kindleth a fire indeed! We will give to this one what
fuel we choose, and to-night Nantauquas may look for the bones of the
white men!"

He ended, and a great clamor arose. The Paspaheghs would have cast
themselves upon us again but for a sudden action of the young chief,
who had stood motionless, with raised head and unmoved face, during the
werowance's bitter speech. Now he flung up his hand, and in it was a
bracelet of gold carved and twisted like a coiled snake and set with a
green stone. I had never seen the toy before, but evidently others
had done so. The excited voices fell, and the Indians, Pamunkeys and
Paspaheghs alike, stood as though turned to stone.

Nantauquas smiled coldly. "This day hath Opechancanough made