All the children of the tribe were afraid of the old woman.  They told each other tales of how she could turn those she disliked into dogs, bats or turtles.  And now even Nautauquas remembered how he had run from her when he was a little fellow.  Her expression was so ugly and so malign that Pocahontas, though she did not fear her exactly, had no desire to stay longer, and so started forward.

“And what doth Pocahontas in the woods at night?” asked Wansutis.  “Knoweth The Powhatan that she hath left his lodge?”

Pocahontas, though she often willingly allowed those about her to forget her rank, could yet be very conscious of it when she desired.  Now it did not please her to be questioned in this manner by the old squaw and she did not answer.

“Oh hey,” cried Wansutis, “thou wilt not answer me.  Thou art proud of thy rank and thy youth.  Yet one day thou wilt be an old squaw like me, without teeth, with weak legs, and life a burden to thee.  Then thou wilt not be so proud.”

Pocahontas stopped and turned around again.

“Nay, I will not grow old.  I will not let the day come when life shall be a burden.  Thou canst not read the future, Wansutis.  I shall always be as fleet as now.”

“Thinketh thou to ward off old age by some of my potions made from these roots I carry here, a bundle too heavy for an ancient crone like me to bear on her back?  Thou shalt have none of them.”

At these words Pocahontas’s manner changed.  Stooping, she picked up the bundle and pressed it into the net that lay on the ground and swung it on to her strong shoulders.

“Come, Wansutis,” she cried.  “Seek not to anger me with words and I will bear thy bundle to thy wigwam.  It is in truth too heavy for thy old bones.”

The old woman grunted ungraciously as she rose to her feet, then the three, one following the other, moved forward.  They were obliged to go slowly, as Wansutis could only hobble along, and Nautauquas was sorry to see that dawn was approaching.  He feared now that Pocahontas would not be able to steal unobserved back to her place beside Cleopatra and that she would be scolded.  They went with Wansutis to her wigwam and Pocahontas let fall her bundle.  Nautauquas took out his knife and cut off a hind quarter of the deer and laid it on the squaw’s hearth.

“She hath no son to hunt for her,” he said in explanation as he and Pocahontas went off unthanked.

Wansutis’s wigwam was on the edge of the village.  As they came nearer to the lodges they heard yelling and shouting from every side, and they saw small boys and young braves rush forth, glancing eagerly about them.

“Let us hasten,” cried Pocahontas.  “I wonder what hath befallen, Nautauquas.”

[Illustration:  Decorative]

CHAPTER IV

RUNNING THE GAUNTLET

“What hath happened?” Nautauquas called out to Parahunt, his brother, when he caught up with him hastening to the river.