"Pocahontas was a woman, a child," he answered. "Out of pity she saved your lives, not knowing that it was to the hurt of her people. Then you were few and weak and could not take your revenge. Now, if you die not, you will drink deep of vengeance--so deep that your lips may never leave the cup. More ships will come, and more; you will grow ever stronger. There may come a moon when the deep forests and the shining rivers will know us, to whom [v]Kiwassa gave them, no more." "You will be with your people in the war?" I asked. "I am an Indian," was his simple reply. "Come against us if you will," I returned. "Nobly warned, fair upon our guard, we will meet you as knightly foe should be met." Very slowly he raised his arm from his side and held out his hand. His eyes met mine in somber inquiry, half eager, half proudly doubtful. I went to him at once and took his hand in mine. No word was spoken. Presently he withdrew his hand from my clasp, and, putting his finger to his lips, whistled low to the Indian girl. She drew aside the mats, and we passed out, Diccon and I, leaving him standing as we had found him, upright against the post, in the red firelight. Should we ever go through the woods, pass through that gathering storm, reach Jamestown, warn them there of the death that was rushing upon them? Should we ever leave that hated village? Would the morning ever come? It was an alarm that was sounding, and there were only two to hear; miles away beneath the mute stars English men and women lay asleep, with the hour thundering at their gates, and there was none to cry, "Awake!" I could have cried out in that agony of waiting, with the leagues on leagues to be traveled and the time so short! I saw, in my mind's eye, the dark warriors gathering, tribe on tribe, war party on war party, thick crowding shadows of death, slipping through the silent forest ... and in the clearings the women and children! It came to an end, as all things earthly will. When the ruffled pools amid the marshes were rosy red beneath the sunrise, the women brought us food, and the warriors and old men gathered about us. I offered them bread and meat and told them that they must come to Jamestown to taste the white man's cookery. Scarcely was the meal over when Opechancanough issued from his lodge, and, coming slowly up to us, took his seat upon the white mat that was spread for him. Through his scalp lock was stuck an eagle's feather; across his face, from temple to chin, was a bar of red paint; the eyes above were very bright and watchful. One of his young men brought a great pipe, carved and painted, stem and bowl; it was filled with tobacco, lit, and borne to the emperor. He put it to his lips and smoked in silence, while the sun climbed higher and higher and the golden minutes that were more precious than heart's blood went by swiftly. At last, his part in the solemn mockery played, he held out the pipe to me.