rude
procession, and followed us, who were to go upon a journey, to the edge
of the village where the marsh began. Only the dark Emperor and the old
men stayed behind, sitting and standing in the sunshine, with the peace
pipe lying on the grass at their feet, and the wind moving the branches
overhead. I looked back and saw them thus, and wondered idly how many
minutes they would wait before putting on the black paint. Of Nantauquas
we had seen nothing. Either he had gone to the forest, or upon some
pretense he kept within his lodge.

We bade farewell to the noisy throng who had brought us upon our way,
and went down to the river, where we found a canoe and rowers, crossed
the stream, and, bidding the rowers good-by, entered the forest. It
was Wednesday morning, and the sun was two hours high. Three suns,
Nantauquas had said: on Friday, then, the blow would fall. Three
days! Once at Jamestown, it would take three days to warn each lonely
scattered settlement, to put the colony into any posture of defense.
What of the leagues of danger-haunted forest to be traversed before even
a single soul of the three thousand could be warned?

As for the three Indians,--who had their orders to go slowly, who at any
suspicious haste or question or anxiety on our part were to kill us whom
they deemed unarmed,--when they left their village that morning, they
left it forever. There were times when Diccon and I had no need of
speech, but knew each other's mind without; so now, though no word had
been spoken, we were agreed to set upon and slay our guides the first
occasion that offered.

CHAPTER XXXIV IN WHICH THE RACE IS NOT TO THE SWIFT

THE three Indians of whom we must rid ourselves were approved warriors,
fierce as wolves, cunning as foxes, keen-eyed as hawks. They had no
reason to doubt us, to dream that we would turn upon them, but from
habit they watched us, with tomahawk and knife resting lightly in their
belts.

As for us, we walked slowly, smiled freely, and spoke frankly. The
sunshine streaming down in the spaces where the trees fell away was not
brighter than our mood. Had we not smoked the peace pipe? Were we not
on our way home? Diccon, walking behind me, fell into a low-voiced
conversation with the savage who strode beside him. It related to the
barter for a dozen otterskins of a gun which he had at Jamestown. The
savage was to bring the skins to Paspahegh at his earliest convenience,
and Diccon would meet him