Bernard, to whom
the sight was entirely new, could see rushing towards the hall, a party
of about twenty savages, painted in the horrible manner which they adopt
to inspire terror in a foe, and attired in that strange wild costume,
which is now familiar to every school-boy. Their leader, a tall,
athletic young Indian, surpassed them all in the hideousness of his
appearance. His closely shaven hair was adorned with a tall eagle's
feather, and pendant from his ears were the rattles of the rattlesnake.
The only garment which concealed his nakedness was a short smock, or
apron, reaching from his waist nearly to his knees, and made of dressed
deer skin, adorned with beads and shells. Around his neck and wrists
were strings of peake and roanoke. His face was painted in the most
horrible manner, with a ground of deep red, formed from the dye of the
pocone root, and variegated with streaks of blue, yellow and green.
Around his eyes were large circles of green paint. But to make his
appearance still more hideous, feathers and hair were stuck all over his
body, upon the fresh paint, which made the warrior look far more like
some wild beast of the forest than a human being.

Brandishing a tomahawk in one hand, and holding a carbine in the other,
Manteo, thus disguised, led on his braves with loud yells towards the
mansion of Colonel Temple. How different from the respectful demeanour,
and more modest attire, in which he was accustomed to appear before the
family of Windsor Hall.

To the great comfort of the inmates, his carbine was the only one in the
party, thanks to the wise precaution of the Assembly, in restricting the
sale of such deadly weapons to the Indians. His followers, arrayed in
like horrible costume with himself, followed on with their tomahawks and
bows; their arrows were secured in a quiver slung over the shoulder,
which was formed of the skins of foxes and raccoons, rendered more
terrible by the head of the animal being left unsevered from the skin.
To the loud shrieks and yells of their voices, was added the unearthly
sound of their drums and rattles--the whole together forming a
discordant medley, which, as brave old John Smith has well and quaintly
observed, "would rather affright than delight any man."

All this the besieged inmates of the hall saw with mingled feelings of
astonishment and dread, awaiting with intense anxiety the result.

"Now be perfectly quiet," said Hansford, in a low tone, for, by taci