“Take it,” he said, “and wear it in testimony that the white chief knows how to estimate thy service, and desires to cultivate thy friendship.”

But the Indian held not out his hand to receive the proffered medal.

“Why dost hesitate?” inquired Winthrop, in some amazement, (for never had he known before an ornament, of which the savages are usually so fond, refused.) “Is there aught else that would pleasure thee more?  Speak freely thy thoughts.”

“Waqua thanks the white chief,” replied the savage, softly, “but he wears only one totem, and that is one which cannot be taken from his neck.  See!”

So saying, he threw open the folds of the robe of skins that covered his chest, and disclosed upon his naked bosom the picture of a turtle.  It was painted upon or pricked into the skin in divers colors, so as to be indelible, and though rudely done, was sufficiently well executed to convey an idea which could not be mistaken of what was intended to be represented.

“Waqua,” he continued, “will have but one totem, and it is that of his ancestors; but if the white chief desires to please Waqua, let him recollect and teach his people that the same Great Spirit made red men and white men, and wishes them to be brothers.”

The sagacity of Winthrop penetrated the motive of the savage, and wonder at the refusal to accept the token was lost in admiration of the other’s jealousy of whatever might imply a want of exclusive devotion to his tribe, or a placing of himself in a position inconsistent with perfect independence.  He scrutinized the Indian with much more attention than he had at first bestowed upon him, and fancied that in his daring face he read an air of nobleness and command which at first he had not remarked.

“It troubles me, Waqua,” he said, “to have thee refuse this badge of my friendship, and which would be a declaration to the world that thou wert my friend, and the friend of the white man, but sith it may not be, receive my promise that I will inculcate the maxim on my people, that we are all descended from the same heavenly father, and bound to love and to practice actions of mutual kindness.  I were less, indeed, than Christian man were I to do otherwise.”

“And now I have a petition to proffer to your excellency, and which lies very near to my heart, and without the granting whereof the life saved by Waqua will be of little value to me,” said Arundel.

“A thing of moment, indeed; and with such a consequence following its rejection, a prayer which I cannot refuse.”

“It is your reputation, honored sir, for justice, which emboldens me, who am but a comparative stranger, with no further claim to your consideration than one man has upon his fellow to do him right, to address you, and endeavor to secure your all-powerful interest in my behalf.”

Here the eyes of the Governor fell with an inquiring look upon the Indian, and the mute appeal was understood by the young man.