“When, I can say, for I have heard. It was yesterday, the day after the great ship and our father, the governor, came to Roanoke, before we ourselves arrived. But whither I know not, save that it was toward the great forest of the South.” “Alone?” The Indian’s brow clouded. “Nay, I grieve that he went with Towaye, my kinsman, who came from England on the _Admiral_. I await thy word to follow the trail by which Towaye, for some unknown purpose, guides thine enemy.” “I thank you, but I am glad that he is gone. He has no knowledge of the fly-boat’s arrival, and thus will miscalculate our strength. He is bound, an I mistake not, for the Spanish city of St. Augustine. Is it not accessible from here by land?” “It is,” replied Manteo, “for men of a kindred race came hither that way at the beginning of the world, and were slain as foes. But the trail hides itself as the trail a dead man follows. It runs through an endless forest, our forefathers have said, and over the face of angry waters. The white man must be brave, though evil, and my kinsman but one of many guides. For passing through Secotan, five-and-twenty leagues to the southward, they must go, with many windings, as serpents go, to the land of Casicola, lord of ten thousand. Also they must pass the Weroances, Dicassa, and Toupee Kyn, of whom our men know nothing save the sound of their names, which comes like an echo without meaning. And they will come to La Grande Copal, where there are stars in the earth your people call jewels, and buy with cloth.” Vytal’s face grew more troubled as the Indian proceeded. “It is impossible that he has gone so far.” “Yes, but there may be yet another way. The river called Waterin[4] is a trail itself, leading perhaps to the Spanish towns.” Vytal seemed but half satisfied. “Are you sure he has left the island?” “No, but I will see.” “Go, then, Manteo.” “I return not,” said the Indian, “until I know,” and in a minute he was lost in the adjacent woods.