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  CHAPTER XIII

  In which the "Santa Teresa" Drops Downstream

  An hour's ride brought us to the block house standing within the forest,midway between the white plantations at Paspahegh and the village of thetribe. We found it well garrisoned, spies out, and the men inclined tomake light of the black paint and the seething village.

  Amongst them was Chanco the Christian. I called him to me, and welistened to his report with growing perturbation. "Thirty warriors!" Isaid, when he had finished. "And they are painted yellow as well asblack, and have dashed their cheeks with puccoon: it's _a l'outrance_,then! And the war dance is toward! If we are to pacify this hornets'nest, it's high time we set about it. Gentlemen of the block house, weare but twelve, and they may beat us back, in which case those that areleft of us will fight it out with you here. Watch for us, therefore, andhave a sally party ready. Forward, men!"

  "One moment, Captain Percy," said Rolfe. "Chanco, where's the Emperor?"

  "Five suns ago he was with the priests at Uttamussac," answered theIndian. "Yesterday, at the full sun power, he was in the lodge of thewerowance of the Chickahominies. He feasts there still. TheChickahominies and the Powhatans have buried the hatchet."

  "I regret to hear it," I remarked. "Whilst they took each other'sscalps, mine own felt the safer."

  "I advise going direct to Opechancanough," said Rolfe.

  "Since he's only a league away, so do I," I answered.

  We left the block house and the clearing around it, and plunged into thedepths of the forest. In these virgin woods the trees are set wellapart, though linked one to the other by the omnipresent grape, andthere is little undergrowth, so that we were able to make good speed.Rolfe and I rode well in front of our men. By now the sun was shiningthrough the lower branches of the trees, and the mist was fastvanishing. The forest--around us, above us, and under the hoofs of thehorses where the fallen leaves lay thick--was as yellow as gold and asred as blood.

  "Rolfe," I asked, breaking a long silence, "do you credit what theIndians say of Opechancanough?"

  "That he was brother to Powhatan only by adoption?"

  "That, fleeing for his life, he came to Virginia, years and years ago,from some mysterious land far to the south and west?"

  "I do not know," he replied thoughtfully. "He is like, and yet not like,the people whom he rules. In his eye there is the authority of mind; hisfeatures are of a nobler cast----"

  "And his heart is of a darker," I said. "It is a strange and subtlesavage."

  "Strange enough and subtle enough, I admit," he answered, "though Ibelieve not with you that his friendliness toward us is but a mask."

  "Believe it or not, it is so," I said. "That dark, cold, still face is amask, and that simple-seeming amazement at horses and armour, guns andblue beads, is a mask. It is in my mind that some fair day the mask willbe dropped. Here's the village."

  Until our interview with Chanco the Christian, the village of thePaspaheghs, and not the village of the Chickahominies, had been ourdestination, and since leaving the block house we had made good speed;but now, within the usual girdle of mulberries, we were met by thewerowance and his chief men with the customary savage ceremonies. We hadlong since come to the conclusion that the birds of the air and the fishof the streams were Mercuries to the Indians.

  The werowance received us in due form, with presents of fish andvenison, cakes of chinquapin meal and gourds of pohickory, an uncouthdance by twelve of his young men, and a deal of hellish noise; then, atour command, led us into the village, and to the lodge which marked itscentre. Around it were gathered Opechancanough's own warriors, men fromOrapax and Uttamussac and Werowocomoco, chosen for their strength andcunning; while upon the grass beneath a blood-red gum tree sat hiswives, painted and tattooed, with great strings of pearl and copperabout their necks. Beyond them were the women and children of theChickahominies, and around us all the red forest.

  The mat that hung before the door of the lodge was lifted, and anIndian, emerging, came forward, with a gesture of welcome. It wasNantauquas, the Lady Rebekah's brother, and the one Indian--savingalways his dead sister--that was ever to my liking; a savage, indeed,but a savage as brave and chivalrous, as courteous and truthful as aChristian knight.

  Rolfe sprang from his horse, and, advancing to meet the young chief,embraced him. Nantauquas had been much with his sister during those, herhappy days, at Varina, before she went with Rolfe that ill-fated voyageto England, and Rolfe loved him for her sake and for his own. "I thoughtyou at Orapax, Nantauquas!" he exclaimed.

  "I was there, my brother," said the Indian, and his voice was sweet,deep, and grave, like that of his sister. "But Opechancanough would goto Uttamussac, to the temple and the dead kings. I lead his war partiesnow, and I came with him. Opechancanough is within the lodge. He asksthat my brother and Captain Percy come to him there."

  He lifted the mat for us, and followed us into the lodge. There was theusual winding entrance, with half a dozen mats to be lifted one afterthe other; but at last we came to the central chamber and to the man wesought.

  He sat beside a small fire burning redly in the twilight of the room.The light shone now upon the feathers in his scalp lock, now upon thetriple row of pearls around his neck, now upon knife and tomahawk in hissilk grass belt, now on the otterskin mantle hanging from his shoulderand drawn across his knees. How old he was no man knew. Men said thathe was older than Powhatan, and Powhatan was very old when he died. Buthe looked a man in the prime of life; his frame was vigorous, his skinunwrinkled, his eyes bright and full. When he rose to welcome us, andNantauquas stood beside him, there seemed not a score of years betweenthem.

  The matter upon which we had come was not one that brooked delay. Wewaited with what patience we might until his long speech of welcome wasfinished, when, in as few words as possible, Rolfe laid before him ourcomplaint against the Paspaheghs. The Indian listened; then said, inthat voice that always made me think of some cold, still, bottomlesspool lying black beneath overhanging rocks: "My brothers may go inpeace. The Paspaheghs have washed off the black paint. If my brothers goto the village, they will find the peace pipe ready for their smoking."

  Rolfe and I stared at each other.

  "I have sent messengers," continued the Emperor. "I have told thePaspaheghs of my love for the white man, and of the goodwill the whiteman bears the Indian. I have told them that Nemattanow was a murderer,and that his death was just. They are satisfied. Their village is asstill as this beast at my feet." He pointed downward to a tame panthercrouched against his moccasins. I thought it an ominous comparison.

  Involuntarily we looked at Nantauquas.

  "It is true," he said. "I am but come from the village of thePaspaheghs. I took them the word of Opechancanough."

  "Then, since the matter is settled, we may go home," I remarked, risingas I spoke. "We could, of course, have put down the Paspaheghs with onehand, giving them besides a lesson which they would not soon forget; butin the kindness of our hearts toward them, and to save ourselvestrouble, we came to Opechancanough. For his aid in this triflingbusiness the Governor gives him thanks."

  A smile just lit the features of the Indian. It was gone in a moment."Does not Opechancanough love the white men?" he said. "Some day he willdo more than this for them."

  We left the lodge and the dark Emperor within it, got to horse, andquitted the village, with its painted people, yellowing mulberries, andblood-red gum trees. Nantauquas went with us, keeping pace with Rolfe'shorse, and giving us now and then, in his deep musical voice, this orthat bit of woodland news. At the block house we found confirmation ofthe Emperor's statement. An embassy from the Paspaheghs had come withpresents, and the peace pipe had been smoked. The spies, too, broughtnews that all warlike preparations had ceased in the village. It hadsunk once more into a quietude befitting the sleepy, dreamy, hazyweather.

  Rolfe and I held a short consultation. All appeared safe, but there wasthe possibility of a ruse. At the last it seemed best tha
t he, who byvirtue of his peculiar relations with the Indians was ever ournegotiator, should remain with half our troop at the block house, whileI reported to the Governor. So I left him, and Nantauquas with him, androde back to Jamestown, reaching the town some hours sooner than I wasexpected.

  It was after nooning when I passed through the gates of the palisade,and an hour later when I finished my report to the Governor. When he atlast dismissed me, I rode quickly down the street toward the minister'shouse. As I passed the guest house, I glanced up at the window fromwhich, at daybreak, the Italian had looked down upon me. No one lookedout now; the window was closely shuttered, and at the door beneath mylord's French rascals were conspicuously absent. A few yards further onI met my lord face to face, as he emerged from a lane that led down tothe river. At sight of me he started violently, and his hand went to hismouth. I slightly bent my head, and rode on past him. At the gate of thechurchyard, a stone's throw from home, I met Master Jeremy Sparrow.

  "Well met!" he exclaimed. "Are the Indians quiet?"

  "For the nonce. How is your sick man?"

  "Very well," he answered gravely. "I closed his eyes two hours ago."

  "He's dead, then," I said. "Well, he's out of his troubles, and haththat advantage over the living. Have you another call, that you travelfrom home so fast?"

  "Why, to tell the truth," he replied, "I could not but feel uneasy whenI learned just now of this commotion amongst the heathen. You must knowbest, but I should not have thought it a day for madam to walk in thewoods; so I e'en thought I would cross the neck and bring her home."

  "For madam to walk in the woods?" I said slowly. "So she walks there?With whom?"

  "With Diccon and Angela," he answered. "They went before the sun was anhour high, so Goodwife Allen says. I thought that you----"

  "No," I told him. "On the contrary, I left command that she should notventure outside the garden. There are more than Indians abroad."

  I was white with anger; but besides anger there was fear in my heart.

  "I will go at once and bring her home," I said. As I spoke, I happenedto glance toward the fort and the shipping in the river beyond.Something seemed wrong with the prospect. I looked again, and saw whathated and familiar object was missing.

  "Where is the _Santa Teresa_?" I demanded, the fear at my heart tuggingharder.

  "She dropped downstream this morning. I passed her as I came up fromArcher's Hope, awhile ago. She's anchored in midstream off the bigspring. Why did she go?"

  We looked each other in the eyes, and each read the thought that neithercared to put into words.

  "You can take the brown mare," I said, speaking lightly because my heartwas as heavy as lead, "and we'll ride to the forest. It is all right, Idare say. Doubtless we'll find her garlanding herself with the grape, orplaying with the squirrels, or asleep on the red leaves, with her headin Angela's lap."

  "Doubtless," he said. "Don't lose time. I'll saddle the mare andovertake you in two minutes."