“Good even, Princess, I rejoice at the news Dr. Whitaker hath even now imparted to me, that he hath instructed thee fully in the teachings of our blessed faith, and that thou hast shown wisdom and comprehension.  The time hath therefore arrived for thee to bear witness before man to the truth and to accept the blessed sacrament of baptism at his hands and to swear publicly that thou wilt have naught more to do with the heathen gods whom thy people ignorantly worship.”

“I will not give them up,” Pocahontas cried out in anger such as she had not shown for many a day; and to Sir Thomas’s amazement, she turned her back upon his presence and sped, swift as a fawn, into the thicket which still covered a portion of the island.

There she lay upon the ground, panting with emotion and passionately going over her arguments:  “Why should I forsake the Okee of my fathers?  Why should I hate what my brothers serve?  Why should I prefer this god of the strangers?”

She did not know that a sudden attack of homesickness was the principal cause of this outburst.  She was longing to sit at her father’s knee, to hunt with Nautauquas; and she wondered if they had ceased to care for her that they left her to stay among the strangers.

Here, at sunset, Dr. Whitaker, set upon her track by the startled Sir Thomas, found her and seating himself beside her, he talked to her gently, not finding fault with her loyalty to her people and their beliefs, but explaining how they had never had the chance to hear what she was being taught, and how by acknowledging the Christians’ God, she might lead those she loved to do the same and to benefit by His great gifts.

Not in one day did the clergyman convince her; but by the time April had come Pocahontas eagerly consented to her baptism.  Clothed by Mistress Lettice in a simple white gown free from ruff and farthingale, with her long black hair hanging down her back, Pocahontas walked to the little church filled with all the inhabitants and a few Indians from the mainland who wondered what it all meant; and while the bells rang softly in the soft spring air, Pocahontas, the first of her race, was baptized into the Christian faith, with the new name of Rebecca.

[Illustration:  Decorative]

CHAPTER XIX

JOHN ROLFE

To John Rolfe and to all who observed closely the Lady Rebecca—­as she was now called—­it seemed as if the little Indian maiden had put on a new womanly dignity since her baptism.  And to John Rolfe in special she grew more lovely every day.  He spent much time with her, strolling all over Jamestown island and even the mainland.  In the woods she taught him as much as he taught her in the town:  to observe the habits of the wild animals and to find his way through a trackless forest.  Often they would go in a boat to catch fish or to dig for oysters in the Indian fashion.