As they began to sail slowly down the stream she leaned back over the gunwale and beheld, borne by a swift eddy, the body of Claw-of-the-Eagle float by her.  She rose to her feet, the sunbeams falling upon her face and her uplifted arms, and she sang aloud a song of death as her tribe sang it while the river hurried with its burden seawards.

[Illustration:  Decorative]

CHAPTER XVIII

A BAPTISM IN JAMESTOWN

Very unhappy was Pocahontas the rest of the voyage to Jamestown.  Claw-of-the-Eagle had been dear to her as a brother, and she sorrowed for him greatly.  It was forlorn to be away thus from her own people and among those whose ways and tongue were strange to her; and she longed for Nautauquas, whom she had not seen for several moons.

News of their coming had outrun them, and all of Jamestown was at the wharf to greet them.  Captain Argall stepped ashore and explained that he had brought generous stores and what was of far greater value, the daughter of Powhatan.  Sir Thomas Dale, in all the bravery of his best purple doublet and new bright Cordova leather boots, came forward and doffing his plumed hat, said: 

“Welcome, Princess, and be not angry with us if we in all courtesy constrain thee to abide with us awhile.  Let it not irk thee to visit us again, to stay for a few days with those who have been thy debtors since the time thou didst save the life of Captain Smith.”

Pocahontas, whose anger had been rising at the treachery practised on her by Japezaws and Argall, had intended to show in her manner how she resented it; but the name of Captain Smith disarmed her.  She recalled her white Brother’s parting words to her.

She would befriend his colony, as she had ever done.  So she smiled at Sir Thomas and spoke to those about whom she knew and let them show her the way to the house that they chose for her use, a few paces from the Governor’s.  Mistress Lettice, the wife of one of the gentlemen, who was to occupy it with her, laid out some of her own garments in case the Indian maiden should care to change; and Pocahontas, forgetting the dangers and sadness of the past days, laughed with amusement as she tried on farthingale and wide skirt.

“They are sending messengers to thy father.  King Powhatan,” the Englishwoman said as she showed Pocahontas how to adjust a starched ruff that scratched her neck so that she made a grimace.  “They will tell him that thou art here, and then surely in his anxiety to see thee again, he will grant what Sir Thomas desires:  that he deliver up our men and the arms he hath taken and give us three hundred quarters of corn.  Perchance thou wouldst like to send some word of thine own to thy father.  If so be, there is an Indian boy who hath brought fish to trade, and he can bear it for thee.”

“Bring him to me, I pray thee,” said Pocahontas, speaking slowly the unaccustomed English words.