The Literary World Seventh Reader Part 6

There came a long, deep breath from the Indians, then a silence in which they fell back, slowly and sullenly--whipped hounds but with the will to break that leash of fear.

"Hark!" said Nantaquas, smiling. "I hear Opechancanough and his warriors coming over the leaves."

The noise of many footsteps was indeed audible, coming toward the hollow from the woods beyond. With a burst of cries, the priests and the conjurer whirled away to bear the welcome of Okee to the royal wors.h.i.+pper, and at their heels went the chief men of the Pamunkeys. The werowance of the Paspaheghs was one that sailed with the wind; he listened to the deepening sound and glanced at the son of Powhatan where he stood, calm and confident, then smoothed his own countenance and made a most pacific speech, in which all the blame of the late proceedings was laid upon the singing birds. When he had done speaking, the young men tore the stakes from the earth and threw them into a thicket, while the women plucked apart the newly kindled fire and flung the brands into a little nearby stream, where they went out in a cloud of hissing steam.

I turned to the Indian who had wrought this miracle. "Art sure it is not a dream, Nantaquas? I think that Opechancanough would not lift a finger to save me from all the deaths the tribes could invent."

"Opechancanough is very wise," he answered quietly. "He says that now the English will believe in his love indeed when they see that he holds dear even one who might be called his enemy, who hath spoken against him at the Englishmen's council fire. He says that for five suns Captain Percy shall feast with him, and then shall go back free to Jamestown. He thinks that then Captain Percy will not speak against him any more, calling his love to the white men only words with no good deeds behind."

He spoke simply, out of the n.o.bility of his nature, believing his own speech. I that was older, and had more knowledge of men and the masks they wear, was but half deceived. My belief in the hatred of the dark emperor was not shaken, and I looked yet to find the drop of poison within this honey flower. How poisoned was that bloom, G.o.d knows I could not guess!

By this time we three were alone in the hollow, for all the savages, men and women, had gone forth to meet the Indian whose word was law from the falls of the far west to the Chesapeake. The sun now rode above the low hills, pouring its gold into the hollow and brightening all the world besides. A chant raised by the Indians grew nearer, and the rustling of the leaves beneath many feet more loud and deep; then all noise ceased and Opechancanough entered the hollow alone. An eagle feather was thrust through his scalp lock; over his naked breast, which was neither painted nor p.r.i.c.ked into strange figures, hung a triple row of pearls; his mantle was woven of bluebird feathers, as soft and sleek as satin. The face of this barbarian was as dark, cold, and impa.s.sive as death. Behind that changeless mask, as in a safe retreat, the subtle devil that was the man might plot destruction and plan the laying of dreadful mines.

I stepped forward and met him on the spot where the fire had been. For a minute neither spoke. It was true that I had striven against him many a time, and I knew that he knew it. It was also true that without his aid Nantaquas could not have rescued us from that dire peril. And it was again the truth that an Indian neither forgives nor forgets. He was my saviour, and I knew that mercy had been shown for some dark reason which I could not divine. Yet I owed him thanks and gave them as shortly and simply as I could.

He heard me out with neither liking nor disliking nor any other emotion written upon his face; but when I had finished, as though he had suddenly bethought himself, he smiled and held out his hand, white-man fas.h.i.+on.

"Singing birds have lied to Captain Percy," he said. "Opechancanough thinks that Captain Percy will never listen to them again. The chief of the Powhatans is a lover of the white men, of the English, and of other white men. He would call the Englishmen his brothers and be taught of them how to rule and to whom to pray"--

"Let Opechancanough go with me to Jamestown," I replied. "He hath the wisdom of the woods; let him come and gain that of the town."

The emperor smiled again. "I will come to Jamestown soon, but not to-day or to-morrow or the next day. And Captain Percy must smoke the peace pipe in my lodge above the Pamunkey and watch my young men and maidens dance, and eat with me five days. Then he may go back to Jamestown with presents for the great white father there and with a message from me that I am coming soon to learn of the white man."

For five days I tarried in the great chief's lodge in his own village above the marshes of the Pamunkey. I will allow that the dark emperor to whom we were so much beholden gave us courteous keeping. The best of the hunt was ours, the n.o.blest fish, the most delicate roots. We were alive and sound of limb, well treated and with the promise of release; we might have waited, seeing that wait we must, in some measure of content.

We did not so. There was a horror in the air. From the marshes that were growing green, from the sluggish river, from the rotting leaves and cold black earth and naked forest, it rose like an [v]exhalation. We knew not what it was, but we breathed it in, and it went to the marrow of our bones.

The savage emperor we rarely saw, though we were bestowed so near to him that his sentinels served for ours. Like some G.o.d, he kept within his lodge, the hanging mats between him and the world without. At other times, issuing from that retirement, he would stride away into the forest. Picked men went with him, and they were gone for hours; but when they returned they bore no trophies, brute or human. What they did we could not guess. If escape had been possible, we would not have awaited the doubtful fulfillment of the promise made us. But the vigilance of the Indians never slept; they watched us like hawks, night and day.

In the early morning of the fifth day, when we came from our wigwam, it was to find Nantaquas sitting by the fire, magnificent in the paint and trappings of the amba.s.sador, motionless as a piece of bronze and apparently quite unmindful of the admiring glances of the women who knelt about the fire preparing our breakfast. When he saw us he rose and came to meet us, and I embraced him, I was so glad to see him.

"The Rappahannocks feasted me long," he said. "I was afraid that Captain Percy would be gone to Jamestown before I was back on the Pamunkey."

"Shall I ever see Jamestown again, Nantaquas?" I demanded. "I have my doubts."

He looked me full in the eyes, and there was no doubting the candor of his own. "You go with the next sunrise," he answered. "Opechancanough has given me his word."

"I am glad to hear it," I said. "Why have we been kept at all? Why did he not free us five days agone?"

He shook his head. "I do not know. Opechancanough has many thoughts which he shares with no man. But now he will send you with presents for the governor, and with messages of his love for the white men. There will be a great feast to-day, and to-night the young men and maidens will dance before you. Then in the morning you will go."

When we had sat by the fire for an hour, the old men and the warriors came to visit us, and the smoking began. The women laid mats in a great half circle, and each savage took his seat with perfect breeding: that is, in absolute silence and with a face like a stone. The peace paint was upon them all--red, or red and white--and they sat and looked at the ground until I had made the speech of welcome. Soon the air was dense with fragrant smoke; in the thick blue haze the sweep of painted figures had the seeming of some fantastic dream. An old man arose and made a long and touching speech, with much reference to calumets and buried hatchets. Then they waited for my contribution of honeyed words. The Pamunkeys, living at a distance from the settlements, had but little English, and the learning of the Paspaheghs was not much greater. I repeated to them the better part of a canto of Master Spenser's _Faery Queen_, after which I told them the moving story of the Moor of Venice.

It answered the purpose to admiration.

The day wore on, with relay after relay of food, which we must taste at least, with endless smoking of pipes and speeches which must be listened to and answered. When evening came and our entertainers drew off to prepare for the dance, they left us as wearied as by a long day's march.

Suddenly, as we sat staring at the fire, we were beset by a band of maidens, coming out of the woods, painted, with antlers upon their heads and pine branches in their hands. They danced about us, now advancing until the green needles met above our heads, now retreating until there was a s.p.a.ce of turf between us. They moved with grace, keeping time to a plaintive song, now raised by the whole choir, now fallen to a single voice.

The Indian girls danced more and more swiftly, and their song changed, becoming gay and shrill and sweet. Higher and higher rang the notes, faster and faster moved the dark feet; then quite suddenly song and motion ceased together. From the darkness now came a burst of savage cries only less appalling than the war whoop itself. In a moment the men of the village had rushed from the shadow of the trees into the broad, firelit s.p.a.ce before us. They circled around us, then around the fire; now each man danced and stamped and muttered to himself. For the most part they were painted red, but some were white from head to heel--statues come to life--while others had first oiled their bodies, then plastered them over with small, bright-colored feathers.

Diccon and I watched that uncouth spectacle, that Virginian [v]masque, as we had watched many another one, with disgust and weariness. It would last, we knew, for the better part of the night. For a time we must stay and testify our pleasure, but after a while we might retire, and leave the women and children the sole spectators. They never wearied of gazing at the rhythmic movement.

I observed that among the ranks of the women one girl watched not the dancers but us. Now and then she glanced impatiently at the wheeling figures, but her eyes always returned to us. At length I became aware that she must have some message to deliver or warning to give. Once when I made a slight motion as if to go to her, she shook her head and laid her finger on her lips.

Presently I rose and, making my way to the werowance of the village, where he sat with his eyes fixed on the spectacle, told him that I was wearied and would go to my hut, to rest for the few hours that yet remained of the night. He listened dreamily, but made no offer to escort me. After a moment he acquiesced in my departure, and Diccon and I quietly left the press of savages and began to cross the firelit turf between them and our lodge. When we had reached its entrance, we paused and looked back to the throng we had left. Every back seemed turned to us, every eye intent upon the leaping figures. Swiftly and silently we walked across the bit of even ground to the friendly trees and found ourselves in a thin strip of shadow. Beneath the trees, waiting for us, was the Indian maid. She would not speak or tarry, but flitted before us as dusk and noiseless as a moth, and we followed her into the darkness beyond the firelight. Here a wigwam rose in our path; the girl, holding aside the mats that covered the entrance, motioned to us to enter. A fire was burning within the lodge and it showed us Nantaquas standing with folded arms.

"Nantaquas!" I exclaimed, and would have touched him but that with a slight motion of his hand he kept me back.

"Well!" I asked at last. "What is the matter, my friend?"

For a full minute he made no answer, and when he did speak his voice matched his strained and troubled features.

"My _friend_," he said, "I am going to show myself a friend indeed to the English, to the strangers who were not content with their own hunting-grounds beyond the great salt water. When I have done this, I do not know that Captain Percy will call me 'friend'."

"You were wont to speak plainly, Nantaquas," I answered him. "I am not fond of riddles."

Again he waited, as though he found speech difficult. I stared at him in amazement, he was so changed in so short a time.

He spoke at last: "When the dance is over and the fires are low and the sunrise is at hand, Opechancanough will come to you to bid you farewell.

He will give you the pearls he wears about his neck for a present to the governor and a bracelet for yourself. Also he will give you three men for a guard through the forest. He has messages of love to send the white men, and he would send them by you who were his enemy and his captive. So all the white men shall believe in his love."

"Well!" I said drily as he paused. "I will bear the messages. What next?"

"Your guards will take you slowly through the forest, stopping to eat and sleep. For them there is no need to run like the stag with the hunter behind it."

"Then we should make for Jamestown as for life," I said, "not sleeping or eating or making pause?"

"Yes," he replied, "if you would not die, you and all your people."

In the silence of the hut the fire crackled, and the branches of the trees outside, bent by the wind, made a grating sound against the bark roof.

"How die?" I asked at last. "Speak out!"

"Die by the arrow and the tomahawk," he answered,--"yea, and by the guns you have given the red men. To-morrow's sun, and the next, and the next--three suns--and the tribes will fall upon the English. At the same hour, when the men are in the fields and the women and children are in the houses, they will strike--all the tribes, as one man; and from where the Powhatan falls over the rocks to the salt water beyond Accomac, there will not be one white man left alive."

He ceased to speak, and for a minute the fire made the only sound in the hut. Then I asked, "All die? There are three thousand Englishmen in Virginia."

"They are scattered and unwarned. The fighting men of the villages of the Powhatan and the Pamunkey and the great bay are many, and they have sharpened their hatchets and filled their quivers with arrows."

"Scattered!" I cried. "Strewn broadcast up and down the river--here a lonely house, there a cl.u.s.ter of two or three--the men in the fields or at the wharves, the women and children busy within doors, all unwarned!"

I leaned against the side of the hut, for my heart beat like a frightened woman's. "Three days!" I exclaimed. "If we go with all our speed, we shall be in time. When did you learn this thing?"

"While you watched the dance," the Indian answered, "Opechancanough and I sat within his lodge in the darkness. His heart was moved, and he talked to me of his own youth in a strange country, south of the sunset.

Also he spoke to me of Powhatan, my father--of how wise he was and how great a chief before the English came, and how he hated them. And then--then I heard what I have told you!"

"How long has this been planned?"

"For many moons. I have been a child, fooled and turned aside from the trail; not wise enough to see it beneath the flowers, through the smoke of the peace pipes."