CHAPTER II.

BROTHER AND SISTER

Captain John Smith was right as to the persons in the canoe which was coming down the James River and heading for the _Sarah Constant_. Seated a little in front of the middle of the craft, swinging the paddle, first on one side and then on the other, was a pleasing-looking Indian youth, who certainly was not twenty years of age. While propelling the boat he faced the vessels down the river. He had the usual long, coarse black hair of his people, which dangled about his shoulders, and his face was stained with the juice of the _puccoon_, or blood root. His chest was bare, but his waist was clasped with a girdle of deerskin, a shirt falling below to his knees, while leggings reached to his neat fitting moccasins, which were ornamented with beads. He was finely formed and must have been fleet of foot and a fine warrior, despite his few years.

The most interesting one in the canoe, however, was the sister of this youth. She was not more than a dozen years old, and showed a regularity of feature and beauty of countenance rarely seen among her race. You will often hear Indian men and women spoken of as very handsome, but, in truth, there are very few worthy of the compliment. I have traveled among many tribes, and seen hundreds of the leading warriors and young women, and among them all were not ten who could be truly called attractive. I refer to their countenances, for their grace of form and movement is striking. But the high cheek-bones give their faces a lumpy appearance, their mouths are generally broad, and the features irregular. Now and then, however, we meet one whose beauty is striking because of its contrast with those around. Such was the fact in the present case.

The best that could be said of the young man was that he was pleasing in appearance. He had fine black eyes—as have all his race of pure blood—regular, even teeth, and an expression of brightness and good nature, but he could not compare with his young sister. Her features were of almost classical beauty, and had she been a Caucasian she would have been admired among any people.

Moreover, her dress was different from any that had caught the eyes of the observant Englishmen. Sitting at the bow, with enough space between her and her brother for their two long bows and quivers of arrows, she had thrown back her outer clothing, which was a robe of doeskin, lined with down from the breast of the wood-pigeon. She wore coral bracelets on her wrists and ankles, and a white plume in her abundant hair.

Her skirt and leggings were similar to her brother’s, but the upper part of her body was clothed in a close-fitting jacket of doeskin, which covered her pretty, plump arms to the elbow. The comeliness of her face was not marred by the crimson juice that her brother used, and which was a favorite with most of her sex. This girl, who was growing fast, was a natural athlete, who could speed like a deer through the woods, launch an arrow with the accuracy of a veteran warrior, swim with the grace and swiftness of a fish, and read the faint signs of the woods as we read the pages of a printed book.

By and by I shall mention the name of this famous miss; until then I shall let you see whether you can guess it. I am sure every one of you has heard it many times in the course of your reading of the history of my country.

Nantaquas, as the young man was named, and his favorite sister had left their home a long way up the river, meaning to paddle down stream, and probably call upon some of their friends, when, in rounding a bend in the stream, they were startled by the sight of the three vessels, slowly coming up the river with their white sails spread, and their decks crowded by strangely-dressed men, studying the shores between which they were gliding in their immense “canoes.”

The sight, as well may be supposed, filled the two with amazement. Nantaquas stopped paddling for a minute or two, while both gazed at the sight. To them, in their forest home on the banks of the James, had come vague rumors of a people who lived far beyond the Great Water, whose skins were of a much lighter color than their own, and whose canoes were like giant birds, which were able to sail in safety when the storms drove the craft of the red men to shelter. Runners from the tribes to the far south had brought most of these stories. It is on record that Captain John Smith once met a party of Iroquois who were exploring this region. In their distant homes in Central New York they had heard the same strange accounts of white men and their ships, and the Iroquois brought the tidings to the tribes in Virginia.

So, as I have said, when Nantaquas and his sister saw the three vessels coming up the James River they had a fair idea of their nature, and of the meaning of this visit to the region which never before had known the tread of the pale-faced race. The girl was lively, curious, and full of faith in human nature—far more so than most of her people.

When she had looked for several minutes in silent amazement at the craft, and noted the forms of men on the decks, she said:

“Why are they coming to the country of Powhatan?”

“I know not,” replied her brother, resuming the sway of his paddle, but more gently than before, and turning his head as he spoke, that she might hear him more plainly; “it may be they mean to take away our hunting grounds.”

The other laughed.

“How can that be, when the warriors of Powhatan are like the leaves on the trees, and they are eager to do his will? There is but a handful of the pale-faces; surely we have nothing to fear from them; Nantaquas, let us visit the big canoes.”

The proposal struck the youth so favorably that he increased the speed of his craft, and, as has already been shown, drew rapidly near the _Sarah Constant_, whose passengers and crew watched the approach of the graceful birchen structure with keen curiosity. As Nantaquas sped down stream, however, he was thinking hard, and he began to ask himself questions, which showed a doubt of the wisdom of carrying out the wishes of his sister. He believed that any people who were treated kindly, and in whom confidence was shown, would give the same treatment to those that were good to them. She would not have feared to climb the side of the big canoe and welcome the white men. She knew they had much greater knowledge than her own people; and, though she and her brother had no food or presents to offer the visitors, they could show their friendship towards them.

But Nantaquas was wise beyond his years. He recalled that the stories which he had heard of the white men were not to their credit. Some of them had slain Indians as though they were wild animals; they had treated them with great cruelty, and repaid kindness with brutality. The reason that such reports came to Nantaquas was that they were brought by visitors from the south, where the Spanish had made settlements. The story of their colonization of the United States and Mexico was stained by many dreadful crimes, which might well make the youth hesitate to trust himself or his sister in their power. They were likely, he thought, to carry one or both off as prisoners or demand a large price for their ransom. So it was, that as Nantaquas drew near the _Sarah Constant_, he gradually slackened his speed, until he finally held his paddle motionless, and allowed the canoe to come to rest with much space still between the two crafts.

By this time everyone on the three vessels was intently watching the little canoe and its occupants. Sails were still hoisted, and the vessels kept moving slowly up stream, the tide being at its turn. On either shore were gathered staring groups of Indians, men, women, and even children, whose emotions were as stirring as those of the white men on the larger craft. The face of the pretty young girl in the canoe glowed, for never had she gazed upon so wonderful a picture. Scores of men in their peaked hats, several of which were adorned with flowing plumes, their short coats clasped about the waist with broad girdles, with a huge buckle in front, the short breeches ending at the knees, with the heavy stockings below, and, more than all, the tanned countenances, some of which were covered with shaggy beards, made up a picture that might well hold the two wondering spectators almost breathless.

Nantaquas checked his boat when a hundred yards from the largest vessel. Inasmuch as that kept moving, he dallied with his paddle just enough to hold his graceful craft abreast. Captain John Smith, the famous navigator, Bartholomew Gosnold, Wingfield, Newport, Ratcliffe, Martin and Kendall—all of whom had been named as Councillors by King James—were at the rail of the _Sarah Constant_, looking off and down at the visitors, who, although they had come so close, hesitated to draw nearer to the vessel.

Captain Smith called in his bass, resonant welcome:

“Welcome! Welcome! Will you not come that we may shake hands with you and break bread together?”

Of course, not a word of this was understood by Nantaquas and his sister, but the beckoning gestures of more than one man formed a language whose meaning was plain. The girl asked her brother impatiently:

“Why do you hesitate? They wish to greet us; you are ungrateful.”

There was decision in the tones of the youth: “They are strangers; we have heard evil things of many of them; we shall go no nearer.”

She knew it was useless to argue with him when he was in such a mood. She pouted, but said no more. Since the gestures gave a clue to the meaning of the words of invitation, Nantaquas raised one hand, palm outward, and waved it towards the ship. He meant it as a courteous refusal to accept the invitation, and, that there might be no mistake as to his meaning, he suddenly dipped his paddle deep in the water, and sent the canoe skimming up stream. His companion continued in displeased silence, and the men on the ship repeated their gestures of welcome, though they knew they would remain unheeded.

Only one of the Englishmen noticed a peculiar thing at this moment. Nothing seemed to escape the keen eyes of Captain Smith. Shifting his glance from the little boat speeding up stream, he looked to the left, or south. The shore was a long distance away, for the river is very wide at this point, and he saw a thin column of smoke filtering upwards from among the trees on a wooded elevation, a little way inland. It was not an ordinary column of vapor, such as burning brushwood makes, but it had a wavy motion from side to side. The same clear vision which noted this, noted also that the column of smoke was broken so as to show two distinct gaps between the base and the top, where it melted into the clear atmosphere against the blue sky beyond.

There could be no question that a signal fire had been kindled on the slight elevation, and that the peculiar look of the vapor was a message sent by someone to someone else, who, probably, was far in the depths of the wilderness. Who should read its meaning? No white man certainly, though he for whose eyes it was meant would have no trouble in understanding it.

Captain Smith glanced from face to face around him, and saw that none had noticed the proceedings. He said nothing, for no one could instruct him; but the shrewd fellow was certain in his own mind that, whatever the message might be, it had to do with the white men who were sailing up the great river, hunting for a spot upon which to find the first real settlement in the New World.

Nantaquas plied the paddle like one who could never tire. He had been trained in the ways of the woods from the time he was able to walk. He had come a long distance down stream on this glowing day in May, and the exercise of propelling the canoe might be kept up for hours without weariness on his part. The same may be said of his companion, for she had proved it many a time, and would have proved it in the present instance, had her brother permitted; but he showed no such wish, and, after passing above the bend which shut the strange picture from sight, he kept up the same machine-like swaying of the arms, until they had traversed a goodly number of miles, and the beauteous spring afternoon was drawing to a close.

And, throughout this long interval, neither he nor his sister spoke. She was displeased because of his refusal to take her aboard the big canoe, and, though she loved him too dearly to feel anything in the nature of real anger, she meant he should know that, in her opinion, he had acted the churl. He understood her feeling, and wisely gave her time to rally from it. Indian though he was, he shared with her a certain waggish disposition which often showed itself. He did several things that may seem strange in one of his race. The bow and stern of the canoe were similar, so that it could go in one direction as well as the other. He was seated just beyond the middle, facing the course it was following, while the girl, having gathered her robe about her shoulders as the chill of the coming evening made itself felt, was at the stern. As she looked at her brother she saw his back, and noted the action of the coppery arms as they swung the paddle with perfect skill.

She was gazing absently at the mass of black hair dangling about his shoulders, thinking, no doubt, how “horrid” he had been, when he abruptly paused, turned, looked straight into her face, and made a comical grimace. He did not speak, and immediately resumed his paddling. She pouted more than before, turned up her pretty nose, and stared to the left at the wooded shore. Ten or fifteen minutes later he repeated his action, except that he continued grimacing and chuckling, as if determined to make her smile. She flushed and strove hard to keep her cross countenance, but could not. She laughed, in spite of herself, but, as he resumed paddling, she reached forward, caught hold of a strand of his hair, and pulled it, taking pains to jerk _upwards_, so as to make sure it hurt. It was a vigorous pull, but Nantaquas acted as if unaware that anything of the kind had taken place, and the girl, as if sorry for her petty outburst, sat back again and looked in a more kindly way at the big brother whom she loved so dearly.

None the less she was planning how she could punish him for his disregard of her wishes. By and by the sparkle of her black eyes told that she had hit upon a scheme. She was impatient for the moment to come, though, in the nature of things, it was already at hand.

Within the following half-hour Nantaquas turned the prow of the canoe towards the northern shore, gradually slackening his work as it sped to land. Just before touching the bank he made a long sweep with the paddle, which turned the craft around, and then reversed the propulsion, so as to land the girl first. Instead of stepping out before her, he gave that honor, as was befitting to the imperious young woman.

And as he did so the same young woman, with a thrill of pleasure, saw that her moment of revenge had come!