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 HE TURNED JUST IN TIME TO ESCAPE AN ARROW." 
 
 Paee 184. 
 
VIRGINIA DARE 
 
 a Romance of i^t Sixteentij Centurg 
 
 BY 
 
 E. A. B. S., 
 
 AUTHOB OF "CECIL'S STORY OF THE DOVE," "STORIES OF 
 
 EASTER-TIDB," ETC. 
 
 Library, Univ. ©f 
 North Carolina 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 THOMAS WHITTAKER 
 
 2 AND 3 Bible House 
 
 1892 
 
Copyright, 1892, 
 By Thomas Whittaker. 
 
(l 
 
 GRATEFULLY DEDICATED TO OUR RECTOR 
 
 AND FRIEND, 
 
 Eeberenti SosepI) dareg^ ^M^, 
 
 OF 
 
 SARATOGA SPRINGS. 
 
PEEFACB. 
 
 The author would like to remind the readers 
 of the romance of Virginia Dare, that if they 
 go back in memory to their schooldays, and the 
 details of their American history, they will re- 
 member that Governor White sailed for Eng- 
 land from Roanoke on the 28th of August, 
 1587, leaving behind him his daughter, and her 
 child who had been born ten days before ; that 
 he was unable to return immediately, owing to 
 war with Spain, and when after the lapse of the 
 three years he did return, he found the island 
 of Roanoke deserted, and a palisade built, as if 
 there had been a fight with the Indians. He 
 found no cross, as he had directed them to put 
 one if they were in trouble, over the name of 
 the place to which they had removed. But he 
 found on one tree the first three letters of the 
 word "Croatoan," and on another the entire 
 word. They attempted to find Croatoan, but, 
 losing their anchors, were obliged to drift away 
 and give up the search. 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
VIRGINIA DARE: 
 
 A ROMANCE OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 "I cannot feel 
 That all is well when darkening clouds conceal 
 
 The shining sun; 
 But then I know 
 
 God lives and loves; and say, since it is so, 
 Thy will be done." 
 
 E. B. Browning. 
 
 " We've got a bright lookout, if this day is 
 the foreteller of what our nation is to be in this 
 new land;" and the speaker threw down his 
 hunting-knife with a satirical laugh. 
 
 "Well, Jake, we cannot expect anything 
 brighter if we've sense and courage enough to 
 look before us. Ten days more and the ships 
 will be gone ; then what is there to prevent 
 these savages from murdering us all ? Our 
 
 7 
 
8 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 colony will have a short day, and may be wiped 
 out before it is half over. This land belongs 
 to the redskins ; and when our men and the 
 governors fly over the water, and won't take 
 us, it is simply saying, ' Poor things, some- 
 one's got to stay, or the London Company won't 
 like it: be brave, and die like Englishmen for 
 us.' " 
 
 " What dost thou say, Hopeful Kent ? Ah ! 
 thou talkest like a brave Englishman; surely, 
 shouldst thou die as thou livest, thy country- 
 men would have naught to be proud of in thee." 
 Both men looked ashamed as the speaker ad- 
 vanced from the wood, and looked straight at 
 them with his great searching eyes, from under 
 a broad-brimmed flat hat, such as was worn by 
 the clergy after the Reformation. 
 
 He looked almost sternly at the two men as 
 he asked, "Dost thou try to better things by 
 hard work? Dost thou try to help thy gover- 
 nor, whom thy Lord has put over thee ? For 
 shame, Jake Barnes! Didst thou work more, 
 and growl less, thou would'st do better. Thou 
 scarcely livest up to thy blessed calling in thy 
 name. Hopeful Kent! How great is the mercy 
 of thy God that he smite th thee not! " 
 
 Jake Barnes shuffled away, muttering some- 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 9 
 
 thing to himself about "preaching parsons;" 
 but the other man asked, "Don't you think, 
 Master Bradford, it is rather bad luck that the 
 day the first white baby opens its eyes in this 
 new land should be wild and rough ? I always 
 look, sir, on the bright side when my judg- 
 ment lets me, but I think it's a bad sign." 
 
 "Dost thou? See, Hopeful," cried the old 
 man, "even now the sun has broken through. 
 God be praised! Be there such things as thou 
 speakest of, — chance, signs, and luck, — I wot 
 not of them. But, even so, the day shall 
 dawn dull and hard for us, as we have seen; 
 but when the blessed evensong calleth, it shall 
 be bright as yonder sky for our people, and the 
 next day shall dawn and set with peace and 
 plenty for them, through God's great mercy." 
 
 " A pity the first child was not a boy : we all 
 think that, sir, don't you?" 
 
 "Ah, Hopeful, the dear Lord knoweth best! 
 This sweet lamb of his fold, born in this hea- 
 then land, mayhap she was sent a woman that 
 her constancy may keep her faith bright, 
 though her way be a hard one. God bless 
 her!" 
 
 "Why should a woman be more constant 
 than a man, sir? I think we men make the 
 
10 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 world what it is, and it seems to me rather 
 bad that this child is a girl. We want fight- 
 ing, not constancy, now. She'll need as much 
 care and food as if she were going to fell a 
 dozen Indians when she's grown. There's 
 been but little work done to-day, the men are 
 all so excited, and all over a bit of a girl.'* 
 
 "There's not a man among us that knoweth 
 the worth of a strong arm that the good Lord 
 giveth unto his soldiers, better than 1; but I 
 have not the time to be talking to-day of the 
 work of the blessed women in the world. It 
 was the holy Father's will; praised be his 
 name ! Let us bow down in thanksgiving that 
 he hath sent unto us one of his little ones ; for 
 where they go they carry his blessing. As 
 thou art pained by the slackness among the 
 men about the work, I'll keep thee no longer, 
 thou may'st go to thy tasks ; mayhap they will 
 follow thy example." 
 
 "Please, Master Bradford, Mistress Wilkins 
 sends her regards, and would have me say that 
 she would be wanting to speak with you." 
 The speaker was a child of ten or twelve, who 
 courtesied as she gave her message. She was a 
 strange-looking little figure, with her tightly 
 plaited yellow hair drawn back from a very 
 
VIRGINIA BABE. 11 
 
 brown forehead. Her pale-blue eyes were a 
 strange contrast to her skin, which was almost 
 copper color from exposure . She wore a plain 
 dark frock, with a kerchief neatly crossed on 
 her breast. 
 
 The clergyman took the child's hand, say- 
 ing, "I will come at once, Patience, child; 
 art thou going back to Mistress Wilkins now ? " 
 
 " Please, I will be there almost with Master 
 Bradford, if I may first gather some of those 
 posies to put on the cradle. Mistress Wilkins 
 says I may rock it," said the child, looking up 
 into the gray eyes that were smiling kindly 
 down on her. They seemed to encourage her; 
 for she added, clasping her hands, and fairly 
 beaming with delight, " The baby is the most 
 beautiful one, sir, you ever saw. I love it, 
 oh, so much ! They want to ask you about its 
 name, and when it would please you to give 
 it, sir. 
 
 " Ah, yes, I suppose the governor wills it to 
 be done before we sail ; sure, it must be, but I 
 had not thought of it. He is right: I am too 
 old for this life here; my memory is failing 
 me. I shall go back to England and thank 
 the blessed Lord for letting so unworthy a ser- 
 vant do so great a work as to receive for him 
 
12 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 two precious souls belonging to so strange a 
 time and people, — the reel savage Manteo last 
 week; and the wee baby, the first one in a new 
 and heathen land, this week, no doubt." 
 
 The old man had nodded his consent to the 
 child, and walked on with bowed head, thinking 
 aloud. The child sprang at once into a little 
 thicket where wild vines and flowers grew in 
 abundance, and gathered her arms full. She 
 certainly made an odd picture ; her droll little 
 figure in that wild, unbroken country, as she 
 stood on the branch of a fallen tree, one arm 
 full of flowers and trailing vines, while she 
 was trying with the other how far she could 
 throw a flat stone and make it skip over the 
 water. As it skipped once, twice, three times, 
 then sank, making great circles on the smooth 
 surface, she laughed merrily, and springing 
 from branch to branch she ran on, jumping over 
 every obstacle, at the same time chanting : — 
 
 "Be thou, OGod, exalted high; 
 And as thy glory fills the sky, 
 So let it be on earth displayed, 
 Till thou art here, as there, obeyed." 
 
 It was Friday that Patience summoned Mas- 
 ter Bradford to Mrs. Dare's hut, where only a 
 few hours before the baby had opened its blue 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 13 
 
 eyes and caused excitement in the little colony. 
 Even Master Bradford felt a strange thrill of 
 pleasure as Mistress Wilkins put the tiny crea- 
 ture into his arms, saying, "Give the child 
 your blessing, sir : I felt it were not safe to let 
 her be longer without at least the blessing of a 
 priest." 
 
 As he took the little one, there was an un- 
 easy look in his honest face. Master Bradford 
 would not have suited some Churchmen of the 
 present day; and yet we all look back with 
 pride as well as pleasure to the fact that among 
 the first colonists in this country there was a 
 priest of our Church, and the first time that 
 praise and worship sounded in our language 
 from this great continent, it was in the words 
 of our own beautiful liturgy; and thus, from 
 Master Bradford's service in the rude Roanoke 
 chapel, to the days of Captain John Smith, 
 when good Mr. Hunt and Mr. Whittaker 
 fought the strengthening Puritan element, no 
 service had ever been offered but that of our 
 own dear Church. 
 
 He replied, "She is the first precious lamb 
 the Lord has trusted to this fold. 'Tis true 
 the blessing of any of God's children is but a 
 form of prayer to him and can do no harm.'* 
 
14 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 He held many of the Puritan views that were 
 then beginning to take root in England. It was 
 only natural, then, that he should hesitate to 
 comply with Mistress Wilkins's request. But 
 he took the child tenderly, as it was laid in his 
 arms; and as he held it and looked into its 
 little face, so fresh from heaven, all prejudice 
 slipped away, and he satisfied even Mistress 
 Wilkins. 
 
 The tall figure of Governor White, and his 
 assistant Ananias Dare, entered the room as 
 Master Bradford began, " May our ever-loving 
 Shepherd watch over this little lamb in this 
 wilderness, and lead her safely through it to 
 the heavenly fold at last. And may the bless- 
 ing of the Father, the Son, and the Holy^ Spirit 
 ever be with her." 
 
 It was Sunday morning, the tenth after 
 Trinity, in the year of our Lord 1587, the 
 18th of August, a typical day for that time of 
 the year, sunny and warm, with a soft haze 
 over everything, as if the world were resting, 
 or rather, on this particular day, in this partic- 
 ular place, the world looked as if it had never 
 waked up at all. One could not believe that 
 those lovely flowers and ferns had ever been 
 covered with ice and snow, or that those 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 15 
 
 mighty forest trees had been shaken in fierce 
 storms till their very roots trembled in the 
 earth. That still peaceful sheet of water, 
 sparkling in the morning sunlight, seemed un- 
 able to lash itself into great waves, or to dash 
 great ships into fragments. 
 
 On this little island this quiet Sunday, there 
 was a strange sight to be seen as the drum-beat 
 called the people to service in the little log 
 chapel; and an odd-looking lot they were. 
 First came two Puritan maidens, walking de- 
 murely together; then an English gentleman, 
 whose clothes looked shabby, as did he him- 
 self; then a little company from the shore, 
 where some canoes showed that they had just 
 landed. Among them was a tall figure with 
 straight black hair hanging around his shoul- 
 ders: he wore a topknot of feathers, a bright 
 blanket, an English ruff about his neck, which 
 had been given him while he was in England ; 
 for this was Manteo, the chief who had been 
 made a Christian only the Sunday before in this 
 same little chapel. He had a fine figure, tall 
 and graceful. With him came a little group of 
 his own braves : they went straight up the hill 
 towards the low building. Then came some 
 slouching sailors, who looked as if they did not 
 
16 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 often go to the chapel, and were a little uncom- 
 fortable now. Then there were some men in 
 smock-frocks. Then behind a whole family, just 
 as you might have seen at home in England, go- 
 ing to any church. They were evidently people 
 of the middle class. The father had undoubt- 
 edl}^ been a miller before lie left home, if one 
 might judge from his funny springing step and 
 broad miller's thumb. He looked very proud 
 and happy as he walked along by his sturdy 
 wife. Before them were their four children, a 
 little rosy boy and a big girl, hand in hand, and 
 the twins, yellow-haired English lassies. A 
 strange mixture they all were ; a little piece of 
 civilization in the heart of a great wilderness ; 
 commonplace English people, living and wor- 
 shipping in the primeval forest of the new land. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 "Yet in sharp hours of trial 
 
 The mighty seal must needs he prov'd ; 
 Dread spirits wait in stern espial; — 
 But name thou still the Name belov'd." 
 
 Keble. 
 
 There stood Master Bradford in gown and 
 bands, his kindly face upturned as he led the 
 prayers and psalms. He had finished reading 
 the lesson from St. John's Gospel, when a little 
 company entered the chapel and came straight 
 up the aisle ; first Governor White's tall figure, 
 then Mistress Wilkins, carrying the baby, closely 
 followed by its father, who looked proud and 
 happy. 
 
 Indian and white man alike arose as Master 
 Bradford began the familiar and beautiful words 
 of our baptismal service ; and when he put the 
 holy water on the wee brow and said, " Vir- 
 ginia, I baptize thee," a murmur of satisfaction 
 ran through the little congregation. Never was 
 queen baptized with more ceremony, or in the 
 presence of a more loving or devoted congrega- 
 
 19 
 
20 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 tion, than this little grandchild of Governor 
 White, who had received the name of the new 
 country in which she was the first Christian baby 
 born. It was because of her baptism that on this 
 tenth Sunday after Trinity every one in the lit- 
 tle Roanoke colony but the child's own mother 
 crowded into and around the roughly made log 
 building that served for a church or chapel. 
 
 That first house of God in our land, which 
 now, three hundred years later, abounds in 
 splendid churches and cathedrals, was, I fancy, 
 as precious to him who values our gifts by our 
 love, and counts worth by sacrifice, as the gor- 
 geous temples of our day. He did not despise 
 the roughly made house in which the Holy 
 Presence was first celebrated; that log room 
 where there was moss for a carpet, a great bowl- 
 der for the altar, lichen and cup-moss for hang- 
 ings, the font, a spring trickling through the 
 stones ; where for decorations the sweetbrier 
 and wild creeper had forced their way between 
 the logs, and clung to the barky walls, and 
 where the little birds often flew in for their 
 morning hymn of praise, and the forest trees 
 raised their arms protectingly over the holy spot, 
 forming, as it were, a lofty cathedral arch. To 
 those loving Eyes watching from above, that 
 
VIRGINIA BARE. 21 
 
 humble square building, made by the loving 
 hands of those first settlers as a token of their 
 love and gratitude for bringing them safely 
 through the mighty waters to so pleasant a port, 
 that first chapel, I am sure, was as beautiful as 
 are many of our richly carved and polished 
 temples of stone. 
 
 As the service ended, the little congregation 
 gathered outside the governor's hut; inside, 
 some of the principal men were talking to him, 
 also Manteo, the Indian chief. Governor White 
 was standing in the inner room by the bed ; he 
 was holding the baby in his arms, and speaking 
 very earnestly. A voice from the bed cried, 
 " O father, father dear, you will not leave me ! 
 do not, do not." 
 
 " Yes, Eleanor," was the reply ; " God calls 
 me back to England. I only waited to see your 
 baby ; with her you will find it less lonely, dear, 
 and you are always brave." And, as Ananias 
 Dare came in and bent over the bed, Governor 
 White walked out to the group of men waiting 
 in the outer room. He closed the door behind 
 liim as he said, " Well, my men, I think this is 
 a good time and place for me to tell you the 
 plans we are to carry out." 
 
 And then, stepping to the door, that those 
 
22 VIRGINIA BARE. 
 
 standing outside might hear what he said, he 
 continued, "This is our plan: I shall sail for 
 England as soon as we can make everything 
 ready. Some of the men will go with me, the 
 others remain here till our return. I do not 
 mean in this particular place, but in this won- 
 derful new country. I do not think it would be 
 wise to remain on this island ; any of the tribes 
 which wish to drive you away have the advan- 
 tage, being able to approach you on every side 
 in their canoes. You are to leave Roanoke and 
 go to the mainland, and settle in a spot not held 
 by any particular tribe. Wanchese is no longer 
 friendly; partly, I believe, because he thinks 
 that at one time this island belonged to his 
 tribe. However this may be, I am assured that 
 it would be better for you to be on the mainland 
 for many reasons, and that it would be wise for 
 you to have nothing to do with Wanchese. 
 When you leave Roanoke, carve on a tree that 
 overhangs the little bay the name of the place 
 you have removed to ; if in danger or distress, 
 carve over the name a cross. I have drawn up 
 the laws that are to govern you, and which v/ill 
 be in my room ready for you to sign to-morrow. 
 I will leave behind me ninety-one men, the 
 seventeen women, and eight children, and these 
 laws are to govern them.'' 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 23 
 
 As the governor saw the dissatisfied faces, he 
 continued, " I shall return as soon as it is pos- 
 sible : I am sure you cannot doubt that. Am I 
 not leaving you good security, my daughter and 
 her child, this dear little one ? " 
 
 He laid his hand on the swinging cradle in 
 which he had put the baby ; and then, raising 
 the other hand and looking up, he said in a clear, 
 distinct, and reverent way, " Before you all, my 
 friends, and before my God, I swear I will be 
 faithful to you. I will do to you as I hope and 
 pray I may be done by. I shall remember you, 
 as I want you to remember my laws and wishes, 
 for which we shall have to answer in the day of 
 the great Judgment." 
 
 The men outside shuffled off, while those 
 inside who belonged to the council talked long 
 with the governor. Manteo listened, and ad- 
 mired the white chief's power and wisdom. 
 
 The next day the men, though they had made 
 many threats, one by one signed the laws that 
 were to govern the colony. 
 
 Then there came days of busy preparation for 
 the return of the ships to England, and the com- 
 fort of those to be left behind. Another baby 
 face appeared, and the happy family of children 
 now numbered five. Mr. Harvey proudly 
 
24 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 brought his baby to Master Bradford to receive 
 its name, — Elizabeth. 
 
 Then came the dreadful day when the ships 
 weighed anchor and passed out of sight, lost for- 
 ever to those who watched their departure. 
 
 When Governor White's return to England 
 was talked of, the colonists dreaded the time of 
 his leaving ; they shrank from even thinking of 
 it, and yet they did not begin to know what his 
 departure meant to them. A handful of people 
 in a great land among savages. 
 
 Mrs. Dare grew strong very slowly ; had it not 
 been for her baby, it is doubtful whether she 
 ever would have rallied after parting with her 
 father and husband ; but that tiny face was a 
 precious treasure, not only to the mother who 
 watched it so lovingly, but also to every one in 
 that little colony. There were few men, even, 
 who did not look in at the door of the little hut 
 some time in the course of every day " to take a 
 look at the baby." She would allow herself to 
 be picked up by any one, at any time, without 
 a murmur ; in fact, the only time she had ever 
 really cried, and then she did it with all her 
 might, was while the governor's ships were 
 weighing anchor and slowly moving out of sight. 
 Mistress Wilkins said the child was troubled 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 25 
 
 with colic, but there were others who shook 
 their heads and talked about omens and chil- 
 dren's wonderful power of foreseeing dangers or 
 calamities while they were too young to talk, 
 save with angels or spirits. But, be the case 
 what it may, the fact remains that Virginia was 
 an exceptionally good baby, did not cry at all 
 till she was ten days old, and never again to 
 amount to anything. This is perhaps why baby 
 Elizabeth Harvey was not more loved ; she was 
 from the first a delicate child, and had more than 
 her share of baby ailments and pains, and she 
 was always crying, or just ready to begin at the 
 slightest provocation. Some people were un- 
 kind enough to say that her mother deserved to 
 have such a child, for calling her after the queen ; 
 that she would have just such a temper when 
 she was grown up ; while Virginia would be 
 placid, sweet, and sunny, like the land of her 
 name and birth. 
 
 Virginia was nearly five weeks old when the 
 first change came into her baby life ; in fact, this 
 change was destined to affect the whole colony. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 " Lay hands unto this work with all thy wit, 
 Yet pray that God may speed and profit it." 
 
 Robert Salterne. 
 
 It was the very last of September ; the day 
 had been a perfect one, just the faintest touch 
 of autumn in the air and on the trees. The 
 sun had gone down in a sea of glory, and the 
 peaceful hour of twilight was hushing every- 
 thing to rest. The sentinel was pacing to and 
 fro. It was Jake Barnes's turn that night, and 
 he did not like the work at all ; in fact, it was 
 hard to find anything in the way of work that 
 he did like. 
 
 As he came to a sudden halt by an old tree 
 that overhung the water he muttered, " It's lots 
 of good I'd do if the redskins should come ! I 
 suppose they'd like me to kill 'em all. A nice 
 lot of cowards the fellows here are ; why don't 
 they go and fight them savages, and let us take 
 their lands to pay us for coming away across the 
 water ; frighten them, let 'em see we mean busi- 
 
 29 
 
30 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 ness. If we don't, they'll finish us all. I 
 wouldn't make friends with any of 'em ; carrying 
 them around the world as if they were white 
 Christians ; and just because they call one a 
 chief, he must be treated like a king. I hope 
 some day I'll have the pleasure of putting 
 my sword through that red shining-faced 
 Manteo." 
 
 He stopped suddenly, for a slight sound on 
 the bank below caught his ear. He stepped 
 quickly behind the tree, so that if there were an 
 arrow coming it could not possibly touch his 
 precious body. As none came, he gathered 
 all his courage and called out, "Who goes 
 there?" 
 
 Immediately a soft voice answered, "Don't 
 fire, Master Barnes ! It's only me, Patience." 
 
 "What are you doing there? You deserve 
 to be shot," was the gruff reply. 
 
 " Oh, please don't ! " cried Patience. " I was 
 only watching the stars come out to look in their 
 looking-glass. Do you know, Master Barnes, 
 that the sea is the looking-glass for the sun and 
 moon and all the little stars? To-night the 
 moon-mother has stayed at home, but she has 
 sent some clouds to take care of her star-chil- 
 dren, and as soon as they look at themselves for 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 31 
 
 a little while, their nurses, the clouds, carry 
 them away home. Pretty soon they'll be all 
 gone, and then the sky will be lonely." 
 
 Barnes walked on, and had forgotten the 
 child. Passing the same spot a few minutes 
 later, he started at the sound of a soft voice say- 
 ing, " Master Barnes ! " Patience stood beside 
 him ; the hand she had laid on his sleeve shook, 
 and her upturned face was very white, while 
 she said in a voice that trembled with fear, 
 " There is a canoe coming over from the land, 
 and there's an Indian in it, I think." 
 
 " Where, child ? Are you sure ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," she replied ; " and I was so fright- 
 ened I hurried to find you." 
 
 " I'll make short work of him if he's alone, I 
 will," Barnes muttered. " One of Manteo's fine 
 braves, I hope. I wish it were the old fellow 
 himself, I'd soon put a ball through his royal 
 crown, and not feel bad about it either ; " and he 
 laughed to himself. Then, turning to Patience, 
 he said, " Where is he coming ashore ? " 
 
 "He was pointing towards the little bay. 
 Master Barnes ; but," she added, " if he's one of 
 Manteo's Indians, we ought not to hurt him, 
 ought we ? " 
 
 "You go to bed, child, and mind you say 
 
32 VIRGINIA DABE. 
 
 nothing of this ; it's my duty to shoot any one 
 that's lurking around in a suspicious way; I 
 ought to have shot you. I'll have to do it now, 
 if you don't hurry to bed and go to sleep. Off 
 with you! I guess your Indian was all a 
 fancy." 
 
 Patience waited for nothing more : she almost 
 flew toward the little group of cabins, until she 
 was hidden from Barnes by the woods. Then, 
 with an anxious look behind, to see he was not 
 following her, she stood still. Barnes had no 
 idea of following her ; he watched her out of 
 sight, descended the bank to a rock from which 
 he could command a good view of the little bay, 
 and sat down, ready to fire. 
 
 Meanwhile, Patience stood in the old forest 
 alone. As her feet had been flying over the 
 ground, her mind had been flying too. In less 
 than half the time it takes to write it, she 
 thought over what Barnes had said about killing 
 one of Manteo's men ; she also remembered what 
 she had heard Mrs. Dare say one day, after 
 Manteo had been in to see the baby Virginia, 
 " Manteo is a faithful friend to us. If the In- 
 dians ever give us trouble he will stand by us to 
 the very end." Perhaps this was one of his 
 men ; perhaps he was bringing a message from 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 33 
 
 Manteo ; perhaps it might be Manteo himself. 
 Some one must save him. 
 
 Before she could reach the huts to call any- 
 one, the canoe would reach the bay ; she was 
 the one to save him. But what if Master Barnes 
 should see her and shoot her ! For one moment 
 the thought frightened her, and she crouched 
 down on the ground. Another, and the brave 
 resolution was made. She must save the man 
 in the canoe. Once more she was flying through 
 the dark forest. 
 
 Well for the baby Virginia, and for all in that 
 little colony, that her steps were light and quick, 
 and her heart was brave. 
 
 Patience reached the clearing on the ridge of 
 the bank ; on she moved stealthily, one slip and 
 she would be in that dark, cruel water. Well 
 for her work that the clouds had hidden all the 
 stars. She came to the group of rocks standing 
 out in the water ; at the same moment she heard 
 the soft splash of the paddle. One quick spring 
 and she reached the first slippery stone. Could 
 she stand firmly enough to jump to the next 
 rock ? If not, within a few seconds the canoe 
 vrould have passed beyond her reach. The 
 paddle sounded nearer ; how her head whirled ; 
 what a giddy spring ! But it was done. 
 
34 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 " Chief Manteo ! " 
 
 The paddle stopped ; she repeated her words ; 
 the canoe came closer. " Who are you ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 The Indian took her hand and felt it, as if to 
 try to understand who or what she was, then he 
 replied in broken English, " Ranteo comes from 
 Manteo to the white chief. Why is the white 
 child here alone on the rocks ? " 
 
 " I came here to save you, for you must not 
 go into the little bay. Master Barnes will not 
 know who you are. He says it is his duty to 
 shoot every one that is about at this hour." 
 
 The Indian muttered something in his own 
 tongue that was hardly complimentary to the 
 whites. While Patience was trying to get up 
 her courage to make the difficult spring back 
 toward the land, the canoe had been concealed 
 under some bushes, for Ranteo did not feel quite 
 sure the whites were to be trusted ; if so, why 
 should this child come to warn him? He 
 thought of all this as he drew his canoe up on 
 land and hid it. He was standing, holding his 
 hand out to Patience before she had gained cour- 
 age enough to move. She took his hand and 
 tried to jump, but the fright that had lent her 
 
 _^^. 
 
VIRGINIA BARE. 35 
 
 strength was over now, and she was trembling 
 and unsteady. Ranteo drew her to the rock on 
 which he stood, then, raising her to his shoulder, 
 stepped across to the land. He did not put her 
 down, but turned into the unbroken forest by a 
 path or trail which his Indian eye had traced. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Little by little, sure and slow, 
 
 We fashion our future, of bliss or woe, 
 
 As the present passes away. 
 Our feet are climbing the stairway bright, 
 Or gliding downward into the night, 
 
 Little by little, day by day." 
 
 In less than ten minutes they were passing 
 the first log hut ; how quiet everything was ! 
 Most of the settlers were sleeping as sweetly as 
 they might have done in their own villages in 
 dear old England. There was not much doubt 
 which of the huts was occupied by the Harvey 
 family, for the baby Elizabeth was crying as 
 usual. No one seemed to trouble himself in the 
 least about the wee creature that sent forth con- 
 stantly so pitiful a little cry, that it said more 
 plainly than volumes could have done, how 
 weary and hard she found this world. 
 
 She, the youngest creature, was the first to 
 break the peace of that quiet little Roanoke vil- 
 lage, the first Christian people in this heathen 
 land. But the happy hours of peace in their 
 
 39 
 
40 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 rude little homes were over; for in less than an 
 hour every one's heart echoed the sad cry of that 
 tiny baby : there were torches lighted here and 
 there, and little knots of men talking in anxious 
 whispers, as if they feared being overheard, even 
 by the wind and trees ; women standing together 
 outside their doors, with frightened children 
 clinging to them. Every one was thoroughly 
 awake now. In one group stood Anthony Gage, 
 an elderly man who seemed to have authority, 
 for the others were looking at him and listening. 
 He had been made a leader rather by circum- 
 stances than by birth ; and he looked frightened 
 and bewildered now, as the torch cast a lurid, 
 flickering light over his handsome face. 
 
 " I think," he was saying, " as long as Manteo 
 is a powerful chief, we had better go back with 
 Ranteo ; we will be as safe there as anywhere. 
 It was certainly good of him to offer us shelter, 
 for it will mean war with Wanchese for him. 
 What say you, men ? " 
 
 Hopeful Kent was in the group, and spoke up 
 at once : — 
 
 " I fear we shall then be making slaves of our- 
 selves. Manteo can do what he likes with us 
 when we are in his camp. Mayhap he has made 
 all this story up to get possession of us." 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 41 
 
 The first speaker shook his head. "No," he 
 said, " Manteo is our friend ; an Indian is not 
 treacherous to his friends. I have feared, ever 
 since Governor White left us, that we should 
 have trouble with Wanchese ; for if an Indian 
 is not one's friend, he is his bitter enemy. I 
 wish we could have removed our village at 
 once. The delay was unavoidable, as you all 
 know." 
 
 Gage had one of those weak natures, to which 
 it is almost impossible to form a positive and 
 quick decision. As he paced up and down at a 
 short distance from the others, the group was 
 joined by several persons, among whom was 
 Barnes, more put out than he chose to acknowl- 
 edge at the turn things had taken. He had 
 had no opportunity to fire on the Indian as he 
 had planned, and then, worst of all, a redskin 
 had got the best of him. Altogether, he was in 
 a much worse humor than usual, if that were 
 possible. 
 
 Why did such unwholesome, unprincipled 
 men come away from their own land, where the 
 laws could hold them in check ? 
 
 Barnes was saying in a strong, fierce way, " I 
 tell you what it is, lads, it's each man for him- 
 self. We haven't any one over us. I, for one, 
 
42 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 sha'n't put my red scalp in the keeping of any 
 Indian. I'd be for taking the one that has come 
 here and quartering him, and sending a piece to 
 his fine painted chief, and the rest to Wanchese. 
 It'll make peace with him quicker than anything 
 else we can do." 
 
 The tall governor, Gage, had been absent 
 hardly five minutes from the group, when he re- 
 turned, still undecided, to find the aspect of 
 things totally changed. 
 
 He began mildly, " I think, my dear fellows, 
 we had better get our things together, and start 
 at daybreak. Ranteo will wait, I have no doubt." 
 
 A growl rather than a murmur ran through 
 the little group ; then Barnes spoke out : — 
 
 " We're not going, sir, one step with that ras- 
 cal. He can wait till we scalp him ; it's all he 
 deserves ; stealing in among us like a thief in 
 the night. We are going to be men, and fight 
 for our homes, our women, and children ; aren't 
 we, lads ? " 
 
 "Ay, ay," was the reply. But one strong 
 voice, from a man scarcely more than a lad, who 
 had just come up, said, " Do you call yourselves 
 men? It is cowards I should call 3^ou if you 
 would touch one who has come among us to 
 save us from ruin, and who trusts us. For shame, 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 43 
 
 fellows ! If you touch him, it must be over my 
 dead body." 
 
 "I shouldn't mind that at all," said Barnes 
 dryly, drawing out his hunting-knife. 
 
 George Howe, for such was the name of the 
 speaker, was no coward ; but he realized that this 
 was not the time for a quarrel among themselves, 
 when trouble and death threatened from outside. 
 So he only said, " Put up your knife, Barnes ; if 
 we kill each other, there will be one man less, if 
 not two, to guard the women and children. I 
 am sure you would be sorry to see this brave 
 fellow killed. If Wanchese should come, and 
 you find all he tells us is true. Governor White 
 would be very angry if we should hurt an Indian 
 without good cause." 
 
 "I care much about his anger, or what he 
 wishes," grumbled Barnes ; while Hopeful Kent 
 muttered, " I'm mighty sure the governor will 
 never be bothered with our doings ; there will be 
 none left to tell him. We'll all be in Kingdom 
 Come long before he or any one else comes back. 
 It's a lot any of them trouble themselves about 
 us." Once more Howe tried to thwart the evil 
 councils of the lawless men among whom he 
 stood. 
 
 " Let's put it to vote what we shall do," 
 
44 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 Barnes said, coming up to the group, after he 
 had interviewed a number of the men, who still 
 stood in little knots talking anxiously. Howe 
 and the present governor, Gage, were standing 
 together a little apart. Howe had made a sug- 
 gestion, and had almost succeeded in persuading 
 his companion to adopt it, when Barnes cried 
 out in triumphant tones, "Let's put it to vote," 
 we are free men." 
 
 " If you let them," muttered Howe, " it will 
 be the ruin of us all, sir ; something, it must be 
 the Evil One, I think, gives Barnes a strange 
 power over the men. Don't put it to vote, sir, 
 I beg ; make them feel your authority." 
 
 "No doubt you are right, Howe," replied 
 Gage, as he stepped nearer to Barnes and said, 
 " Barnes, you have the interest of us all at heart, 
 and while I feel it is right to observe caution, in 
 this case we have no choice but to trust Manteo. 
 Were we alone we might run risks, which we 
 have no right to do with the women and chil- 
 dren depending on us. I know you will trust 
 my decision, which I am sorry to say differs from 
 your opinion." He stopped, for Barnes had 
 turned and walked away. He only went a few 
 steps, however ; then turning with a gleam of 
 triumph in his eyes, as he saw the disturbed look 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 45 
 
 he had caused in the face of the man whom he 
 ought to have obeyed, he cried furiously, " Don't 
 be too sure of your good judgment ; we came to 
 this country free men, and as a free man I am 
 going to act now. I am not going to Croatoan. 
 You may if you choose. Who'll fight the sav- 
 ages, and win lands and homes with me ? or run 
 away like a baby to its mother when the first 
 sound of fight comes." 
 
 Nearly all the men had gathered round, seeing 
 their leader standing in a weak, undecided way, 
 looking helplessly and distractedly at Barnes, 
 whose strong, magnetic face they all felt ; and 
 they cried, almost with one voice, " I, Barnes, I ! 
 I am no coward." " I am an English lad," or 
 "Here's your man, Barnes." Seeing that he 
 held the men, he stepped before the tall figure 
 of Anthony Gage, who had authority and power 
 at that moment had he only had the strength to 
 exert it, and began, " If we are agreed to stay 
 here and fight like men, the first thing we can 
 do to prove the strength of our resolution is to 
 act upon it ; to put to death this lying Indian 
 who has come among us to be a spy, to make 
 trouble, to get possession of us and our women 
 and children, to torture us, to put us to death. 
 Do you not say with me that he should be pun- 
 
46 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 ished, to show those red dogs we mean real work, 
 and no more fooling? What do you say, fel- 
 lows?" 
 
 Only a few voices replied ; even they assented 
 feebly. Howe walked away in disgust. Barnes, 
 feeling a little uncertain as to the wisdom of his 
 last suggestion, determined to excite his follow- 
 ers a little more before Ranteo should be spoken 
 of again. So he continued, " The red villains 
 will be on our track by morning, as soon as they 
 find their comrade doesn't come back, so we 
 must get to work and build a palisade. If they 
 once get hold of us they will show no mercy, 
 though some of you are foolish enough to be 
 afraid of hurting this precious copper-colored 
 heathen. I confess I am not womanish enough 
 for that." 
 
 More thanTl score of voices cried out, "Nor I, 
 nor I." " They are an ungodly lot." " Clear 
 them off the face of the earth ; it's a Christian 
 man's duty." Gage stood with bowed head, the 
 very personification of disgust, yet with not 
 moral courage enough to right the wrong he was 
 so horrified at. He had tried to be a good man, 
 and yet please his fellow-men among whom he 
 was thrown ; strange to say, an aim which is 
 seldom realized, even when a whole life is given 
 
VIRGINIA DARK 47 
 
 to its accomplishment. The most truly popular 
 lives are apart from, and without thought of, 
 self ; lived for one's fellow-men, with a brighter 
 and more perfect mainspring than mere humani- 
 tarianism. Such lives become more than good, 
 and without either knowing or realizing it, the 
 busy, flippant world stops in its rush to admire, 
 if not to bow down in adoration. 
 
 When Howe left the little company, he walked 
 carelessly away, but only while in sight did he 
 go with slow steps and bowed head. Once out 
 of sight, and sure he was not watched, he ran as 
 fast as he could under the shadow of the trees. 
 Going behind each hut, he looked inquiringly at 
 the inmates, but he reached the very end before 
 he felt satisfied. 
 
 It was indeed a pretty sight he saw there ; the 
 rude room with its few articles of rough furni- 
 ture, and a few little decorations which gave the 
 place a refined, home-like air ; at one side swung 
 a cradle, in which lay the baby Virginia. By 
 the cradle stood the beautiful young mother, 
 looking proudly and lovingly down on her child. 
 The rush torch which she held threw a bright 
 light on the little creature, on the mother her- 
 self, and on a tall figure that knelt by, watching 
 the child with almost reverent awe, only ventur- 
 
48 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 ing to toucli the tiny hand with the tip of his 
 long finger. The baby watched him with her 
 pretty blue eyes, cooing as the long feathers 
 waved back and forth as he moved his head. 
 
 " The child comes from the Great Spirit," the 
 Indian said. 
 
 Mrs. Dare replied quietly, "Truly, Ranteo, 
 the Great Spirit sent her. She is his, but he 
 has given her to us for a while. You will be 
 her friend always, won't you? If anything 
 should happen to me, I tremble to think what 
 would become of my baby." 
 
 Ranteo did not speak, but he took the baby's 
 wee hand and laid it against his forehead, then 
 pressed it to his lips, and made a vow which he 
 never forgot. Nor did he forget those words, 
 "She is His." 
 
 Howe had been weighing several plans in his 
 mind. At last he was resolved, and stepped in, 
 saying, " Ranteo, come with me." 
 
 "Ranteo's work will be to carry the white 
 lady and the Great Spirit's baby to Manteo's 
 wig^vam," was the reply. 
 
 " Thank you, Ranteo, we will be very glad to 
 have you, both baby and I," Mrs. Dare said in 
 her sweet way ; but glancing at Howe's face she 
 stopped suddenly and asked, " What is wrong, 
 do tell me." 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 49 
 
 " I might as well," replied Howe. " Barnes 
 has made himself governor, and decrees that all 
 Indians shall die, and the white men shall not 
 go to Croatoan." 
 
 Mrs. Dare clasped her hands in horror, but 
 the Indian showed no sign of surprise or fear, 
 and Howe continued, " There is no time to lose ; 
 come, Ranteo, and don't lay up all these shame- 
 ful things against our whole race." 
 
 Without a word, Ranteo took from his belt the 
 small soft skin of a white rabbit, and laid it on 
 the cradle, then followed Howe. Long before 
 Barnes and his men had finished their discussion, 
 Ranteo had slipped off in the stillness of the 
 night, wondering in a stupid sort of a way why 
 white men were so unlike each other, that a 
 child had risked her life to save him from being 
 shot when carrying a warning of danger and an 
 offer of hospitality, and that after delivering 
 both, his life was still so unsafe that he had to 
 be smuggled away quietly. As his canoe glided 
 quietly over the dark water, he was glad the 
 pale-faces were far behind, but he wished that 
 sweet, blue-eyed papoose had a red skin. 
 
 After seeing Ranteo's canoe safely out of 
 sight, Howe turned back toward the line of 
 moving torches, which showed where the huts 
 
50 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 were. As he saw them moving he decided the 
 council must be over, and work of some kind 
 begun. " God only knows what those villains 
 will be up to next. Barnes hates me. It will 
 be better for him not to know that I had any- 
 thing to do with Ranteo's escape. I'm sure he 
 wouldn't mind taking me in his place, and I 
 shall be needed by the women and children. 
 It's little consideration they'll have while that 
 brute is self-imposed governor of the colony," 
 he said as he hurried on. 
 
 Mrs. Dare was holding the baby, and she 
 looked up as he entered. "Did he get off, 
 Howe? " she asked. 
 
 " Yes ; he's far across the water by this time, 
 and the villains are just beginning to look for 
 him. I fancy I see the torches coming this way," 
 he replied. 
 
 " Thank God," she said ; " it would have been 
 a disgrace to our people. Oh, if my father were 
 only here ! What is to become of us all ? " 
 
 " You will hear soon enough," was the reply. 
 " Here comes our gallant new governor ; it is 
 best to be ignorant about Ranteo." 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 *' Ob, the little birds sang east, and the little birds sang west, 
 And I said in an underbreath, 
 All our life is mixed with death 
 And who knoweth which is best?" 
 
 Browning. 
 
 Howe had hardly finished speaking when the 
 light of another torch flashed through the door- 
 way, and with it appeared Barnes's ugly face, 
 with his red hair standing straight up, literally 
 on end, as it always was, giving him the appear- 
 ance of being in a chronic state of fright ; but un- 
 less his own hideous nature frightened him, 
 which I am afraid he had not grace enough to 
 see as it really was, his appearance must have 
 been merely a reflection of the contorted, mis- 
 shappen soul within. 
 
 Eleanor Dare was one of a fine old English 
 family who nearly all had served their country 
 with their swords, on land or sea. She had all 
 the elements of a soldier; was a brave, noble 
 woman. Her figure, which was slight and grace- 
 ful, to Barnes looked strangely tall and com- 
 
 53 
 
54 riRGINIA DARE. 
 
 manding as she rose and came to meet liim, still 
 holding her baby. 
 
 " What do you want ? and who are you that 
 you make yourself a ruler ? " 
 
 Though Barnes boasted of fearing neither God 
 nor man, there was something very cowardly in 
 his nature : it made him shiink back now before 
 the eyes of this brave woman, who dared to 
 stand alone and accuse him of what he had done. 
 
 " You have not heard the truth, madam," he 
 said, almost civilly : " some one has been telling 
 you lies ; it is the men who have said what we 
 shall do." 
 
 In a gentler tone she said, " If that is really 
 the case, I will apologize. Without doubt you 
 have sent some little gift to Manteo as a token 
 of our gratitude ? " 
 
 " Sent I why we hoped to find the messenger 
 here. We were just about to prepare a gift for 
 the chief. The men think it better not to go to 
 Croatoan ; we are going to make all quite safe 
 here. But," he added, " the Indian is not here, 
 is he?" 
 
 "Here? oh, no. Mistress Wilkins is sleeping 
 in the back, and Howe was talking to me here. 
 Was it Ranteo who brought the message? " 
 
 And Barnes, seeing her great blue eyes, and 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 55 
 
 knowing little of a woman's power to act a part 
 perfectly when something great is involved, 
 never guessed she was deceiving him, as he re- 
 plied, " Yes, it was Ranteo, I think." 
 
 " Did you tell him to wait, that you wanted to 
 send a present to Manteo ? " she asked. 
 
 "No; I didn't think of it," Barnes muttered 
 as he turned away. When he had reached his 
 men, who stood a little way off, he continued, 
 " I am afraid if I had told him what the present 
 was tol)e, he wouldn't have been any more anx- 
 ious to wait. But I'll tell you what it is, fellows, 
 they haven't seen him, they don't know anything 
 about him. Folks can't fool me. The red 
 scoundrel must have heard something we said, 
 and skipped ; like enough he'll bring his whole 
 tribe back here to scalp us all by morning." 
 
 It was well for the little stars that their cloud 
 nurses carried them off to bed early ; for I am 
 sure they would have felt very sad had they 
 watched the changes fast appearing in the quiet 
 little village of Roanoke, through the long hours 
 of that September night. The night heron saw 
 it all, and sent forth its mournful wail of sorrow. 
 But at last there was a lurid line of red alonor 
 the eastern horizon, the dark sky was shot with 
 streaks of crimson, and the day broke softly. 
 
56 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 The sun peeped down on the English colony, and 
 found it wholly different from the place she had 
 left twelve hours before. The row of log huts 
 stood empty and deserted, many of them had 
 lost their roofs or sides, wherever there were 
 strong logs they had been removed ; there were 
 no signs of waking life about the place ; every- 
 thing was desolate. A few things were strewn 
 around, showing the haste of the departure. At 
 the lower end of the island some trees were 
 hewn down, and just beyond rose a palisade 
 made of large timbers ; behind it, all the settlers 
 were gathered in a confused crowd. The chil- 
 dren were crying or fretful ; the women worn 
 out and weary ; most of the men thoroughly 
 out of temper, many of them swearing against 
 Manteo for having, as they said, disturbed their 
 peaceful lives, or against Queen Elizabeth for 
 having sent them away to die alone, like the 
 children of Israel in the wilderness. 
 
 The day wore on as it had first dawned, clear 
 and bright, but with a decided chill in the air, 
 which by night threatened almost a frost. The 
 women and children who were exposed felt it 
 keenly ; and the little ones joined Elizabeth Har- 
 vey's sad wail, all but Virginia, who lay peace- 
 fully looking up at the blue sky and the fleecy 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 57 
 
 clouds ; her great blue eyes seemed to under- 
 stand what all the confusion meant, and she 
 uttered not a murmur. 
 
 When darkness crept over the land once more, 
 bringing with it a penetrating coldness, the men 
 threw themselves on the ground with whatever 
 covering they could find, and went to sleep. 
 Many of the children cried themselves to sleep, 
 and most of the tired women soon followed 
 them. Only in one corner a little group was 
 still awake ; on the ground where the bushes 
 formed a rude shelter lay Mrs. Harvey. She 
 had been about very little since the baby came. 
 The exertion and excitement of the move had 
 proved too much for her. • Mistress Wilkins was 
 caring for her as best she could, without the aid 
 of medicine, or even comforts, while Mrs. Dare 
 tried to soothe poor little Elizabeth. Harvey sat 
 by, looking sadly at his wife, and with each 
 weary breath she drew his heart grew more 
 heavy, and a greater sense of desolation crept 
 over him. The watchers watched on in silence ; 
 all was still save the cry of the heron or the 
 screech of the owl in the forest, when a low 
 whistle sounded fi'om the northern end of the 
 palisade, followed by a flash of light from a 
 torch which was held one moment high in the 
 
58 VIRGINIA DAUB. 
 
 air. IjThis was to be Howe's signal of danger, 
 for he was stationed that night. Harvey sprang 
 to his feet and began waking the sleeping men. 
 Barnes had only half opened his eyes, when a 
 hideous war-cry sounded through the forest. 
 In an instant every man was on his feet, with 
 his hand on his rifle, ready for the fight. Then 
 came the arrows thick and fast ; from the inside 
 of the palisade the guns boomed, or a sword 
 clashed against the Indian who tried to mount 
 the palisade. The redman's war-whoop sounded 
 on every side, now and then a flash of lightning, 
 for a storm was gathering, showed the hideous 
 paint on their copper-colored faces. The noise 
 woke the birds from their sleep, and drawing 
 their little heads from under their wings they 
 sent forth doleful cries to add to the horror of 
 the scene. Even the leaves seemed to sigh with 
 grief at the awful sight. 
 
 Patience had crouched close to Mrs. Dare, and 
 was helping her to soothe the babies, when she 
 asked, " If the Indians get us all, what will they 
 do with us?" 
 
 Mrs. Dare held her baby more tightly as she 
 replied, " Patience, even if they are savages, 
 they are under the power of our God whom 
 they do not know, and he can take care of us if 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 59 
 
 the Indians do break through the palisade ; they 
 can do nothing without his knowing it. You 
 and I cannot fight, dear, but we can pray." 
 
 Patience sat a few moments silent before she 
 spoke again. " Do you know," she said, " I don't 
 feel afraid, that is, very much afraid, for the 
 stars have just come through the clouds ; though 
 there are only two or three, they are watching 
 us, and they are so sorry ; they are blinking very 
 hard to keep their tears back. See how they 
 blink and twinkle. I know they are angels' 
 eyes." 
 
 A sudden wild yell in the forest sent terror 
 to every heart. The men had all they could do 
 to keep back Wanchese and his braves. Several 
 of the settlers had been already wounded, and 
 one killed. They could not hold out much 
 longer against their present enemy, and if help 
 had come to Wanchese they were surely lost. 
 Only one moment did this thought depress them, 
 for the instant the savages heard the cry, they 
 sent up one fierce and wild answer, and turned to 
 meet the new foe, now rushing upon them, 
 headed b}^ Manteo. 
 
 Then the Englishmen fired a fresh volley, help- 
 ing Manteo to drive Wanchese rapidly back to 
 the shore. The fight was over for the time, just 
 
60 VIRGINIA DABE. 
 
 as morning dawned. Ranteo, with three other 
 Indians, all in paint and war toggery, were 
 standing without the palisade. Howe went to 
 see what they wanted. All expected only a 
 command to surrender, and become Manteo's 
 prisoners. But no, Ranteo only handed Howe 
 a soft, well-cured deerskin, saying, "Manteo 
 sends Ranteo to take the skin to the Blue-eyes, 
 and will the Blue-eyes and the beautiful lady go 
 with Ranteo to Manteo's wigwam ? " 
 
 He would not come inside the palisade, and 
 Howe was not very anxious to have him, as he 
 felt he could not trust Barnes. But he took the 
 skin and messas^e to Mrs. Dare. 
 
 As she listened, her eyes filled with tears, and 
 she said, " How noble and good of Maneto ! 
 But I will not leave the others. Can we not all 
 go now? Surely this dreadful night is enough." 
 
 Howe shook his head. " Those Indian bodies 
 outside craze the men. Nothing will satisfy 
 them now. Many of them would go through 
 anything in the world to shoot an Indian again. 
 But go with your baby ; you will be safer there 
 than here," he said. 
 
 "No," she replied firmly; "I will stay with 
 my people to the last. Thank him for me, 
 Howe, and tell him what I say." 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 61 
 
 Howe gave the message, and Ranteo went 
 away disappointed. 
 
 Hopeful Kent took very good care to keep in 
 as safe a place as possible during the fight, yet 
 he had an arrow wound in his left arm. Mrs. 
 Dare had bathed it, and was binding it up for 
 him, when Patience ran up and said, "Mistress 
 Wilkins wanted her in a hurry, please." She 
 went quickly to the elder-bush which sheltered 
 the place where Mrs. Harvey lay. She had 
 roused enough to take her poor baby. Mistress 
 Wilkins was bending over her ; just as Eleanor 
 Dare came up, she opened her eyes and looked 
 around as if to find some one. Then her lips 
 moved, and they could just hear her say, 
 " Martin ! " He heard her, and was by her side in 
 a second. But the lips had closed forever. 
 
 The baby stirred and began its mournful wail, 
 as Eleanor lifted it gently out of the mother's 
 arms, where it would never lie again. The 
 morning sun sent down a long golden ray, 
 which forced its way through the trees, and 
 lighted the pale face that was at rest forever. 
 The whole forest, birds and animals, seemed to 
 wake to life together, and began their hymn of 
 praise and thanksgiving just as Mistress Wil- 
 kins crossed the hands on the still breast, saying, 
 
62 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 " Grant her eternal rest, O Lord, and may per- 
 petual light shine upon her ! " 
 
 Mrs. Harvey's death was one more horror 
 added to that awful night. All seemed too 
 much stunned by what they had been through, 
 to be shocked, or even much surprised, at any- 
 thing. Howe helped poor Martin Harvey to 
 make a rude coffin, in which they laid the body 
 of Elizabeth's mother. Patience gathered vines 
 and flowers, and laid them about the peaceful 
 face. At sunset the deposed Governor Gage 
 read the service, and they carried the coffin 
 away. The twins, poor little things, cried bit- 
 terly, as did the little rosy boy, and the big girl, 
 who tried hard to take her mother's place to the 
 other three. And the poor baby, Elizabeth, 
 wailed more sadly than ever. 
 
 Another night crept on, and the summer 
 seemed to have come back for a little while. 
 Though it was warm, not one star came out, and 
 Patience was afraid. Once more the dreadful 
 yell, once more the forest was alive with Wan- 
 chese's men. Fierce and wild was the fight 
 between the red and the white men. Here and 
 there the palisade began to yield; a blazing 
 arrow had set more than one place on fire. Cries 
 and yells again made the night hideous. The 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. ' 63 
 
 owls and herons once more joined in with their 
 weird, screeching cry. 
 
 Mrs. Dare sat holding the two babies, the 
 women and children were huddled about her, 
 when Howe called her away out of their hearing. 
 
 "An hour more and the palisade must fall, 
 you must not be here then. You had better go 
 to Maneto quickly." 
 
 " How can we ? " she asked simply. 
 
 " I have a plan," he said. " It is dangerous, 
 but it is more dangerous for you to stay here ; 
 every moment makes the place less safe." 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 "Many are pains of life, I need not stay to count them; 
 there is no one but hath felt some of them, though unequally 
 they fall." — Ugo Bassi's Sermos. 
 
 Scarcely ten minutes had passed before the 
 group of women and children stood by a little 
 opening which Howe had made in the palisade, 
 through which they were to escape into the 
 forest. Howe stepped out first. Why should 
 the leaves rustle so? He fancied he heard a 
 noise near. An arrow might pierce him in a 
 second, or one of those frightful yells might 
 announce their discovery. 
 
 But no arrow came, and one by one the little 
 procession filed out behind him into the dark 
 forest. It was by no means easy work to keep 
 on. The underbrush crackled and scratched 
 the children's hands and feet until they cried 
 and had to be hushed. Only the baby Elizabeth 
 would not be silenced, though Mrs. Dare did all 
 she could to soothe her. 
 
 "They will certainly hear her and find us. 
 
 67 
 
6S VIRGINIA BARE. 
 
 We'll be all scalped if you carry her any 
 farther," said one of the women. 
 
 But Mrs. Dare's answer silenced her. " If 
 either of the children is making noise enough 
 to endanger you all, we ought not to remain 
 together. I will keep behind till you are all 
 safe." 
 
 Mistress Wilkins was just behind, carrying 
 little Martin Harvey. He was a stout child, 
 really too heavy a load for the poor old woman, 
 yet she had energy enough left to turn savagely 
 on the first speaker. " You ought to be a heathen 
 savage with a red skin," she said, " to talk of 
 leaving a poor motherless baby alone in the 
 woods for the wild beasts. I wonder the Lord 
 don't send some of them out to tear 3^ou to 
 pieces. You are no Christian woman." 
 
 On, on they went, groping their way through 
 the darkness, often stumbling, sometimes fall- 
 ing, but keeping on bravely, carrying the chil- 
 dren, and helping the more frightened ones. 
 Suddenly they came to a clearing, and before 
 them stretched the great ocean. They all gath- 
 ered close together under the old trees that 
 shaded even the very edge of the bank. Then 
 Howe told them he must leave them while he 
 went to bring the boats. Most of the women 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 69 
 
 I 
 began to cry, saying they surely would be killed 
 
 without a man to protect them, until Eleanor 
 
 Dare said, in her quiet, decided way, " Go, 
 
 Howe, we are quite safe here among the trees 
 
 and bushes. The great danger will be when we 
 
 are on the water." 
 
 " You had better not talk, or even move ; and 
 be sure you do not answer any call, or speak to 
 any one, until the signal of a low whistle is 
 given," Howe said warningly, as he disappeared 
 into the forest. 
 
 It seemed a century since he left them ; it 
 was in fact only about thirty minutes before they 
 heard his whistle, and he appeared carrying an 
 end of one of the boats. Harvey was carrying 
 the other end, and behind them came two men 
 carrying another. Hopeful Kent was one, and 
 he was grumbling about the weight. 
 
 The boats were soon launched, the women 
 were getting in, Howe was lifting in the little 
 ones, when suddenly Hopeful Kent sprang into 
 the nearest boat and pushed it from the shore. 
 "What are you doing?" cried a dozen voices. 
 He only pushed the harder, muttering, " I hear 
 the red scoundrels coming." He was mistaken, 
 however : no one came, but they could not per- 
 suade him to come back. He said he had as 
 
70 VIRGINIA DAEE. 
 
 big a load as he was going to row, and was soon 
 out of sight. 
 
 '* I dare not put another one in," Harvey said 
 to Howe, as the small boat dipped to the water's 
 edge. Mrs. Dare, who had refused to get in till 
 all were settled, still stood holding the two babies, 
 and by her Patience and Mistress Wilkins. 
 Howe looked at them helplessly for a moment, 
 then suddenly exclaimed, " I have an idea, 
 Harvey ! you and Thompson see this boat safely 
 to Croatoan. Tell them Mrs. Dare is coming, 
 and that it will be all right. If we do not come, 
 you had better come back and take the rest of 
 the men. I am going to try to steal two of the 
 canoes, if I am seen and caught, they will have 
 to wait for you ; be sure you come back." The 
 two men clasped hands for a moment, and the 
 boat slipped silently over the still water. Howe 
 told Mrs. Dare his plan ; leaving his hat, shoes, 
 and whatever else he did not need, he scrambled 
 along the bank just over the water. Ver}^ soon 
 he could see the palisade, and the torch-light 
 showed the Indians' ugly faces. He remembered 
 Governor White's directions about the name of 
 the place they should remove to, and as he 
 reached the edge of the little bay, he drew him- 
 self up to a tree, and taking out his knife began 
 
VIRGINIA BAEE. 71 
 
 to carve the word Cro-ato-AN ; but only three 
 letters were done when he noticed a commotion 
 among the Indians, and fearing to be seen, he 
 slipped down into the water. It was strange 
 that the Indians had left the canoes unguarded, 
 but they looked upon the pale-faces as a stupid 
 race, and they felt so sure that they were all 
 enclosed behind the palisade, they had left only 
 one man to watch the boats. He was more 
 interested in the fight than in his duty, and 
 hearing the unusual commotion which was 
 caused by a small portion of the palisade giving 
 way, he had gone up the bank to see how things 
 were going on, thus leaving the canoes un- 
 guarded, ready for Howe to take his choice. 
 Howe swam across the little bay; reaching a 
 small tree, he drew himself up by it, and lying 
 flat on the ground pulled one of the light 
 canoes towards him, and pushed it into the water 
 without a sound. Then came the thought, if all 
 the canoes were in the water their owners could 
 not possibly pursue save by land. It required 
 only strength and caution, both of which Howe 
 possessed. Steadily he drew down first one and 
 then another, till all but one canoe, and the two 
 largest and lightest, which he had decided to 
 take for Mrs. Dare, were floating away silently 
 
72 VIRGINIA BABE. 
 
 on the smooth water ; then he carefully brought 
 to the water his chosen two ; the other lay 
 among dry leaves on the bank, and he decided 
 not to run the risk of its rustling betraying him. 
 Fastening the two together, he stepped into one, 
 and let the tide carry him far out before he 
 used the paddle ; no one had seen him, or heard 
 a sound. The Indians always believed and 
 declared that their canoes had been floated away 
 by the water spirit, who was angry with them, 
 but spared their medicine-man's canoe, which 
 was the one that lay among the leaves. Howe 
 was pretty well worn out when he reached the 
 sheltered spot where the anxious watchers waited 
 for him. He told them of his adventure, and 
 that he felt very sure the palisade could hold 
 out only a little while longer, and that he was 
 too worn out to paddle them to Croatoan, but if 
 they would wait only a few minutes more, he 
 would go to the palisade and send some one 
 to them. 
 
 "And you, Howe," Mrs. Dare asked, "what 
 will become of 3^ou ? " 
 
 The men will soon need a place to hide or 
 retreat to, then I will biing them here. Thomp- 
 son and Harvey will come back for us." He 
 had hardly finished speaking before he was 
 gone, and they sat quietly waiting. 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 73 
 
 Who would come, and when? The mo- 
 ments rolled on like hours. The night wind 
 sighed in the pines till it seemed like a human 
 moan. A great cry suddenly pierced the still- 
 ness; it was from the Indians, and yet it was 
 not their war-whoop, rather a mournful cry. 
 It sounded again and again, and then died 
 away. 
 
 "Either they have discovered the canoes are 
 gone, or they have broken down the palisade; 
 you can rarely tell whether they are sorry or 
 glad," Mrs. Dare said. 
 
 '*If it is their canoes," said Mistress Wilkins, 
 " they will come along the shore for them, and 
 we shall surely be found." 
 
 " Let us still hope and pray," Mi-s. Dare said 
 feebly. 
 
 " Hark ! " whispered Patience, " I am sure I 
 hear some one coming." The twigs were crack- 
 ing and the underbrush breaking. It was not 
 Howe's decided step either. No, nor was it 
 Howe's voice that said, "Mrs. Dare, your father 
 left me in his place, to guide and govern his 
 people. As none of them wish me to do either 
 at present, I am sure he would say my duty was 
 with you. Howe says we must go off at 
 once." 
 
74 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 She thanked him as he helped Mistress Wil- 
 kins and Patience into one canoe, and herself 
 and the two babies into the other. 
 
 " The tide runs directly to Croatoan, so we can 
 float most of the way without paddling," Gage 
 said, as the canoes, fastened together, floated 
 quietly away from the shore into the stillness 
 and darkness of night. 
 
 Howe, after leaving the little party on the 
 shore, went back to the palisade ; he found the 
 men fighting like true Englishmen, but he man- 
 aged to explain to Gage the condition of the 
 women ; and then, after seeing him safely off, 
 he went to work with a will: every one was 
 needed. 
 
 The palisade was fast giving away, several 
 large holes were plainly to be seen ; the Indians 
 were fighting with all the power of their wild, 
 savage nature. If they once got through the 
 palisade, every white man must die; then he 
 thought of the women and children, and won- 
 dered if Manteo would receive them kindly, or 
 if he would resent Ranteo's treatment. As he 
 fought and tried to encourage the men, his 
 thoughts ran on quickly. He thought of the 
 future, and Governor White's return ; who would 
 tell him where to find what was left of the 
 
VIRGINIA BARE. 75 
 
 little colony ? surely the three letters on the tree 
 over the little bay would not. He slipped 
 down from his place, having just thrown over 
 his adversary whom he was fighting with hand 
 to hand. Opening his pocket-knife, he found a 
 large tree that would be easily seen, stripped 
 the bark off about five feet from the ground, 
 and on the smooth surface he carved in clear, 
 old English characters, Croatoan. He had 
 just finished the " n," when a sudden pain made 
 him lose his hold on the branch. He tried to 
 raise himself to put the cross over the word, as 
 the governor had said to do if in danger or dis- 
 tress, but he could not move. He could only 
 lie there listening to the cries and war-whoops, 
 and now and then a groan from a dying or 
 wounded man. Above all, he could hear the 
 sad call of the night heron ; he could see that 
 the Indians had broken away the palisade and 
 were rushing in. How many seconds before 
 they would find him, he wondered. The vision 
 of a gray stone church across the sea came before 
 him, where he had learned from his very baby- 
 hood the truths and lessons which had made 
 him a blessing and a credit to his country, and 
 enabled him to lie there now facing death with- 
 out a fear. He thought of the dear old face of 
 
76 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 his rector, remembered his last words at parting, 
 and the promise of his prayers. " Such prayers 
 must be heard on high," he muttered. "I have 
 forgotten many of his holy teachings, but the 
 dear Lord will be merciful and forgiving. He 
 will, he will." 
 
 An Indian was coming very near ; but what 
 was that cry ? It came from the Indians that 
 were outside the palisade. Those who had 
 forced their way in seemed to be retreating. 
 He longed to ask, but there was no one near 
 enough. Presently all became still, except for 
 the low, sad wail that came from the outside. 
 The white men were evidently astonished, but 
 were taking advantage of the lull to patch up 
 the palisade. 
 
 Presently a man came near, and asked, " Who 
 are you.? " Howe answered, asking at the same 
 time, " What has stopped the fight ? " 
 
 " That's more than we can tell," was the reply. 
 " It's something on the shore, though ; some- 
 thing makes them think their gods are angry, 
 for they have stopped fighting, and are offering 
 gifts and dancing dances to one of their spirits. 
 It is a good thing for us, anyway." 
 
 "Put any of the Indians that have been 
 wounded or killed outside, then come back to 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 77 
 
 me," said Howe, "and I will tell you some- 
 thing." 
 
 After half an hour the man, came back, and 
 three others with him. 
 
 " Are you hurt ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes," said Howe, " it's an arrow just above 
 my shoulder, I think, but it is broken off." 
 
 The men could feel the end of the arrow, 
 and with great difficulty, and causing him much 
 pain, they drew it out. 
 
 " How are our men ? " he asked, as soon as he 
 could speak. 
 
 " It's hard to tell exactly, but they're mostly 
 all wounded more or less, and there are thirteen 
 killed," was the answer. 
 
 " We must not stay here : we cannot tell what 
 those savages will do next ; but first, we must 
 hide Governor White's boxes," said Howe. 
 
 There was a little silence, then one of the 
 men said, " We might as well tell you the worst, 
 you have got to come to it. We're all sorry, 
 but it can't be helped. There wasn't one among 
 'em like my old woman, 'Ilda, though the 
 'eathen dogs have done away with every woman 
 and child we 'ad." 
 
 Howe almost laughed as he replied, " I was 
 the heathen dog. I helped them to go to Croa- 
 
78 VIRGINIA VAEE. 
 
 toan, where we must go as soon as possible. 
 That's what happened to the Indians in the 
 middle of fighting; they must have suddenly 
 discovered that their canoes were gone, and, I 
 dare say, thought some of their gods had spirited 
 them away." 
 
 " Thank 'eaven, thank 'eaven ! " cried the 
 first speaker, falling on his knees. " Thank 
 'eaven for my Tlda ! " 
 
 They saw that Howe was exhausted, and left 
 him resting on the ground while they went to 
 work. An hour later Governor White's trunks 
 were buried, and all the little treasures they 
 could carry were packed in bundles, and all was 
 made ready to leave Roanoke. 
 
 Howe and Barnes were both too seriously 
 wounded to walk ; they were laid on rude biers 
 and carried. The dead men had been buried ; 
 others, who were only slightly wounded, walked, 
 though in more or less pain. The way through 
 the forest was a rough one, but their courage 
 kept them up. At last the bank was reached, 
 and in a sheltered hiding-place they found 
 Thomson and Harvey waiting with the largest 
 boat; the other, they said, had not reached 
 Croatoan when they left. They had also sev- 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 79 
 
 eral of the floating canoes, which they had cap- 
 tured on their way back. As day dawned, they 
 found all that remained of the English colony 
 on the shores of Croatoan, waiting to see how 
 the chief Manteo would treat them. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 "She had eyes of sunniest English blue; 
 She had tresses of golden hair ; 
 Her cheeks were tipped with the hawthorn's hue ; 
 Her name, Virginia Dare." 
 
 Manteo, true to the faith he professed, for- 
 gave and forgot, or rather he never spoke of his 
 warning, or Ranteo's strange visit to Roanoke ; 
 when he understood that the white tribe were 
 in trouble, and had fled to him for protection, 
 he solemnly held out his hand to Mrs. Dare, 
 then handed her a long pipe, seeming to take it 
 for granted that she filled her father's place. 
 She went bravely at it for a few minutes in sight 
 of all Manteo's warriors, who watched her with a 
 strange awe ; then he took the pipe from her 
 and led her to a wigwam, where she was to stay 
 while the refugees were provided for by the 
 Indians. 
 
 The autumn days slipped by, and the winter 
 came. It was a mild winter, even for that part 
 of the country; and as it broke, and the first 
 mild, balmy spring days came, the settlers began 
 
 83 
 
84 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 to watch for the governor's return. Day after 
 day they looked, but the mild spring melted 
 into the heat of summer, and yet he did not 
 come. 
 
 Hopeful Kent and his boat-load that left 
 Roanoke in such a hurry that night had never 
 been seen or even heard of; they had either 
 been drowned, or captured by Wanchese's men. 
 Autumn again began to paint the trees yellow 
 and red, yet no sign of a sail ; the men were 
 growing discontented, and gave up watching for 
 the ships they would never see, and went more 
 ardently at their grumbling. 
 
 One night, nearly fifteen months after Gov- 
 ernor White and his fleet had left the shore of 
 Virginia, the men's discontent, which had been 
 smouldering like a choked fire, burst into a 
 blaze of defiant rebellion, and on that same night 
 they slipped away in the darkness. Sixty of 
 the men whom Manteo had sheltered and cared 
 for more than a year went to Wanchese. Barnes 
 was the leader in this, as in the former troubles ; 
 but he did not tell the men all he meant to do ; 
 he knew them too well to expect them to agree 
 to anything so base as this plan. In truth, he 
 meant to betray Manteo. Wanchese listened 
 to his proposal ^vith disdain and distrust, then 
 
VIRGINIA DABE. 85 
 
 he cried, " Such a dog shall not live I " and with 
 a blow of his tomahawk Barnes fell dead. 
 Many of the men were killed, others were 
 branded and kept as slaves. 
 
 Life was more quiet and peaceful after the 
 discontented were gone. Of course there were 
 sad hearts among the women and children for 
 a while, for some had lost husbands and fathers. 
 The weaker ones broke down utterly with the 
 life of exposure and hardship. More than one 
 grave had been made ; the Indians looking on in 
 awe and wonder at the Christian burial. Mrs. 
 Dare had learned many Indian words, and in a 
 quiet way she had done much for the neglected 
 women and children, for there were such among 
 those poor savages, as there are to-day in our 
 own civilized towns and villages ; and in that 
 way she won not only their hearts, but the 
 hearts of the men also. There is no surer way 
 in the world to a man's heart than through his 
 children. 
 
 All this time the baby Virginia grew. The 
 soft down on her round head had clianged 
 to a halo of golden curls. Her eyes had 
 grown large and deep like the sea; some- 
 times a sparkling, laughing blue, and sometimes 
 almost a gray when a cloud of sorrow crept 
 
86 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 across her little horizon. She was not afraid 
 of anything, and nothing seemed to harm her. 
 The cold rain or the hot sun never made her 
 ill ; she seemed to open like a flower, gaining 
 strength and beauty from all that nature gave. 
 One day when swinging in her willow cradle 
 under the blue sky, laughing and playing with 
 her toes, as children do, the old woman or 
 mother of the tribe, bent and wrinkled, browned 
 and weather-beaten, came slowly up the hill 
 with several of the squaws. Patience sat on 
 the ground holding the baby Elizabeth, who, as 
 soon as she saw the old squaw, gave a wild cry 
 of fear, and buried her face on Patience's 
 shoulder, moaning and sobbing. The old 
 woman shook her head, and passed on to the 
 willow cradle. Little Virginia looked up at 
 the ugly old face for some time, as if she were 
 studying it. Then she stretched out her tiny 
 white hands with a pretty baby laugh. The 
 squaw bent over the cradle ; Virginia cooed and 
 smoothed the brown, wrinkled cheek ; a murmur 
 of delight passed through the group of Indian 
 women. Mrs. Dare, who had come to the door 
 of the wigwam, lifted the baby from its cradle, 
 and tried to put her in the old Indian's arms ; 
 but she drew back, clasping her hands and mut- 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 87 
 
 tering as she looked up towards the sky. The 
 other squaws acted in the same way. Ran- 
 teo, who had just come up, explained to Mrs. 
 Dare that his people had never seen a papoose 
 with blue eyes before, and they would not touch 
 it, for they thought it must be a spirit. From 
 that day Virginia received presents of all kinds, 
 from the skin of a bison to the wing of an eagle. 
 Her baby clothes were worn out long ago, and 
 she lay wrapped in skins, like any papoose. 
 
 She was a little more than a year and a half 
 old when Howe went with Gage to see if there 
 was any sign of Governor White's fleet. They 
 never came back. Life went on quietly at Croa- 
 toan. The men went to their hunt, or, in their 
 gaudy paint and war toggery, went to fight. 
 The women beat out their vessels, or wove bas- 
 kets, and dried skins. The children played 
 at their sham wars, or went on their imaginary 
 hunts, or sang their songs full of myths and 
 mysteries. 
 
 The summer that Virginia was three years old, 
 she was playing under the willow-trees outside 
 the wigwam with little Elizabeth, whom she 
 had nicknamed Beth, and whom she was truly 
 fond of ; the only one in the world who loved 
 the fretful, delicate child with a love that was 
 
88 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 not mingled with pity. They were playing 
 quietly together, when a squaw, holding a little 
 boy by the hand, came near and stood watching 
 them. Beth at once stopped playing and began 
 to cry, while Virginia smiled at the little boy, 
 who was several years her senior, and held out 
 her hand, saying, " Will you come play ? " He 
 came to her, but stood more like a soldier on 
 duty than a child ready for play. The two 
 looked curiously at each other for several mo- 
 ments. The boy, pointing to Virginia's great 
 blue eyes and then to the blue bird he held 
 in his hand, exclaimed, "Owaissa! Owaissa!" 
 then he laid the bird on her golden curls ; and 
 when, after a long play, he went away, the 
 squaw who had charge of him urged him to 
 take the bird back, for it was the most loved of 
 all his toys. He shook his head and angrily re- 
 fused. He was Iosco, Manteo's son ; and after 
 that he came often to the willow-tree and played 
 with Owaissa, as he called her. As she grew 
 older and was able to play with Iosco and the 
 other Indian children, she was known among 
 them only as Owaissa. 
 
 yirginia was nearly six when Mrs. Dare be- 
 gan to give up all hopes of seeing the English 
 ships that were to bring her husband and father. 
 
VIRGINIA BARE. 89 
 
 The hard, rough life of exposure had made 
 great changes in the young and beautiful woman 
 who had sailed from England a happy bride only 
 a little more than seven years before. She 
 looked twenty years older ; her wavy brown 
 hair was gray ; her complexion was burnt and 
 sallow. She lived only for her little daughter, 
 and what good she could do among the poor 
 heathen, who fairly worshipped her. She had 
 taught Virginia to read. When six years old, 
 the child knew all the old familiar Bible stories, 
 and she could sing many of the old hymns and 
 and psalms. Thus the education of the first 
 American-born child slowly progressed. 
 
 The squaw who waited on Iosco, whose name 
 was Adwa, was very fond of both children : her 
 own, she said, had all gone to the Happy Hunt- 
 ing Ground. She would tell them stories by 
 the hour, while the three children sat listening 
 breathlessly, for Virginia always insisted upon 
 bringing Beth in for whatever was going on. 
 As the squaw sat and parched the corn, she 
 would tell them of Mondamin, and how the 
 young Indian fasted and prayed for no selfish 
 purpose, but for the profit of his people ; and 
 how he wrestled with and conquered Mondamin, 
 because of his prayer to the Great Spirit. Or 
 
90 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 as they sat by the water she would tell them 
 how the Puk-Wudjie fed the great fish, or how 
 they killed Kwasind. Or they would watch the 
 clouds clear away after a storm, and Adwa 
 would tell them how the little flowers that died 
 on earth bloomed again in the rainbow. As 
 they sat in the grov/ing darkness, watching the 
 little fire-flies, she taught them the Indian 
 children's good-night song : — 
 
 " Fire-fly, fire-fly, bright little thing, 
 Light me to bed, and my song I will sing! 
 Give me your light as you fly o'er my head, 
 That I may merrily go to my bed. 
 Give me your light, o'er the grass as you creep. 
 That I may joyfully go to my sleep. 
 Come, little fire-fly, come, little beast, 
 Come, and I'll make you to-morrow a feast. 
 Come, little candle, that flies as I sing. 
 Bright little fairy-bug, night's little king. 
 Come, and I'll dance as you guide me along, 
 Come, and I'll pay you, my bug, with a song !" 
 
 Beth could not learn the song ; in fact, she 
 had learned very little of the Indian language, 
 w^liile Virginia spoke it quite as well as English. 
 In return for Adwa's tales of Indian lore, Vir- 
 ofinia would often tell the Bible stories she loved 
 so well, old fables, or wonderful fairy tales ; she 
 even taught Iosco her favorite hymn. In this 
 
VIRGINIA BABE. 91 
 
 way the first six years of her life were passed, 
 and her intellect and imagination were devel- 
 oped. In the same proportion she gained 
 strength and vigor from the active games of 
 the Indian children. She could climb a tree as 
 nimbly as a squirrel, keep up with any child of 
 her own size in the race, scramble down a steep 
 cliff, or run over a narrow bridge formed only 
 of a branch, as if she were in truth an Owaissa. 
 Her life was light-hearted and sunny : no cloud 
 of sorrow had yet obscured its baby brightness. 
 But a dark cloud was fast gathering. Even 
 when the cloud had broken away, the sun would 
 never again be as bright as it had been before. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 ? J 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " O the long and dreary winter I 
 O the cold and cruel winter ! 
 Ever thicker, thicker, thicker 
 Froze the ice on lake and river, 
 Ever deeper, deeper, deeper 
 Fell the snow o'er all the landscape." 
 4 / iS ii ^ ' Longfellow. 
 
 The winter after Virginia was seven years 
 old was one which could never be forgotten by 
 those who lived through it. The snow fell 
 thick and fast for days together. Then came a 
 cold wind, which blew until the streams were 
 frozen like iron, and the great snow mounds 
 became as mountains of shining metal. The 
 wind sang dirges among the leafless trees ; the 
 hunters went out day after day, and returned 
 empty-handed; the forest seemed deserted by 
 all living things. The childi-en cried for food, 
 and not getting it, sickened and died. The 
 women made fires and offered gifts to the Great 
 Spirit of the Hunt. Manteo and his Christian 
 people offered prayers daily. But all appeared 
 to be of no avail. 
 
 95 
 
96 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 Mrs. Dare was lying on her tussan of skins, 
 and Virginia kneeling by her, with her arms 
 tightly round her mother's neck. They were 
 talking as they often did together. Virginia 
 was saying, "But, mamma, v^hj does God send 
 trouble and sorrow and pain to us if he really 
 loves us ? " 
 
 " It is just because he does love us, darling, 
 that he sends us soitow to lead us to love 
 him," was the gentle reply. 
 
 " But, mamma, dearest, you love God, yet he 
 sends you so much pain. And you have not 
 enough to eat, either. It cannot be to make 
 you love him," said Virginia. 
 
 " Yes, my darling ; we may love him all our 
 lives, and yet not give him all the love we owe 
 him. He never sends a pain or sorrow that is 
 not for our good, though we cannot always 
 knov/ why it is. When you were a very little 
 girl, almost a baby, and your gums were so sore, 
 it was because I loved you and v/anted to save 
 you from pain that I lanced the sore place and 
 gave you great pain just for a moment. You 
 could not understand why then, even if I had 
 explained it to you, but you never doubted my 
 love. You knew I would not hurt you un- 
 necessarily. We must trust God in the same 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 97 
 
 way, dear, for he loves us even more than I 
 love you." 
 
 " O mamma ! you make me good ; when I am 
 with you I can do anything. I don't even mind 
 being hungry ; " and Virginia's great blue eyes 
 were full of tears as she looked into her mother's 
 face. 
 
 " Darling, you must learn to be good without 
 me ; we may not always be together, you 
 know." 
 
 Mrs. Dare spoke with so much feeling that 
 Virginia started and looked pained. But before 
 she could speak, the skin that hung in front of 
 the doorway was drawn aside, and Manteo came 
 in. He sat down, with bowed head, and with- 
 out speaking a word. Virginia, who liad learned 
 to love him, sat quietly at first. She knew he 
 must be in very great trouble over the suffer- 
 ings of his people, and her loving heart was full 
 of sympathy. 
 
 At last she crept softly to him, and laid her 
 curly head on his brown hand. Her eyes told 
 more than words could express. With a great 
 effort he raised his head. 
 
 " The Great Spirit, the mighty Werowance, 
 has forgotten us, or he is angry. The people 
 die, and there is no food. Manteo's own child 
 
98 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 Iosco has the curse. There is no food to give 
 him ; he must die." 
 
 " No ! " cried Virginia, " God will not let 
 Iosco die. Have you asked him for food for 
 Iosco, Werowance Manteo? I know he will 
 save him." 
 
 "All night," replied Manteo, "under the stars 
 on the cold snow did Manteo talk with God. 
 But he would not hear him." 
 
 Mrs. Dare had risen. Manteo could not fail 
 to notice how frail and ill she looked, as she 
 came toward him. She drew the skin that lay- 
 over the couch around her as she said, " Manteo, 
 take me to Iosco ! " 
 
 He sprang up, a gleam of hope in his dark 
 eyes. " Will the lady go to Iosco ? " he cried. 
 " Will she ask the Great Spirit to save the boy's 
 life ? Her god will hear her voice, though it be 
 soft as a morning breeze in the budding time." 
 
 They passed out into the biting wind, the tall 
 chief bowed with grief, the delicate English 
 lady, and the sweet child with golden hair, and 
 walked over the frozen snow to Manteo's wig- 
 w^am. Mrs. Dare bent over Iosco as he lay on 
 a tussan of balsam on the floor of the wigwam, 
 restless witli fever. She stroked the dark hair 
 back from the flushed forehead, and then turn- 
 
VIRGINIA BABE. 99 
 
 ing to Virginia, said in English, " Go and ask 
 Mistress Wilkins to give you the red herbs, and 
 bring them to me quickly, dear." 
 
 Virginia flew over the snow, and returned 
 with the herbs in a small iron pot that had been 
 brought from Roanoke, before the squaws 
 crouching around the wigwam thought she had 
 time even to reach Mistress "Wilkins. Mrs. 
 Dare stirred up the fire which was smouldering 
 on the floor of the wigwam, prepared the herbs 
 carefully, and boiled them in the iron pot. Poor 
 Iosco lay gasping, delirious, and exhausted. 
 Manteo thought he was dying, and caught Mrs. 
 Dare's hand almost fiercely as he cried, "Ask 
 the Great Spirit ! Oh, ask him quickly ! " 
 
 She knelt down quietly by the poor boy, Vir- 
 ginia knelt too, and all followed their example. 
 There had been regular hours for prayer before 
 Howe and Gage had been lost ; since then, all 
 were welcome who cared to come to Mrs. Dare's 
 wigwam for devotions. She felt keenly a 
 woman's dislike to put herself conspicuously 
 before the world, even though it were a little 
 heathen world; but she had taught them a 
 great deal in a quiet way. They felt she was 
 their friend; they knew and loved her. And 
 now with her simple words of prayer every 
 
100 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 heart in that rude cabin was lifted to the great 
 Father above. Mrs. Dare gave Iosco the herb- 
 tea that had been simmering over the fire. The 
 hot di'aught and her gentle ministration soothed 
 the poor boy, and he fell into a quiet sleep. 
 Manteo still knelt on the floor. When he saw 
 his boy sleeping sweetly, he exclaimed, "The 
 Father is great and good, but he is angry with 
 the redman, and will not hear his voice. Only 
 the voices of the Blue-eyes reach his camp." 
 
 " Oh, no ! " said Mrs. Dare earnestly. " Oh, 
 no, Werowance Manteo! The great Father 
 loves us all, and he hears your prayers as soon 
 as you speak. Ask him now to guide you, and 
 go to the forest and hunt, for Iosco must have 
 something to strengthen him when he awakes." 
 
 "Will the white lady speak to the Great 
 Spirit for Manteo while he goes and hunts?" 
 he asked. 
 
 "I will, indeed," she replied. And Manteo 
 silently took his bow and arrows and left the 
 wigwam. 
 
 For hours Iosco slept peacefully. At sunset 
 his father returned, to the great joy and delight 
 of every one, bringing with him the flesh of a 
 young bear. Mrs. Dare prepared a dainty dish, 
 and told Virginia to give Iosco a little when he 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 101 
 
 first awakened, and to come and tell her how he 
 was ; that she was going back to her own wig- 
 wam for a while. Virginia was a very sensible 
 little woman for only seven years old. She was 
 born with the rare and blessed gift of a true 
 nurse ; and though there were five squaws in 
 the wigwam, they let her sit close to the patient, 
 feeling that she had a sort of supernatural 
 power. They w^ere afraid when her mother 
 went away ; but, as Iosco grew no worse, they 
 decided Virginia must have the same power 
 with the Great Spirit. When at last Iosco 
 stirred and opened his eyes, one of them handed 
 Virginia the food, that her hand might put it to 
 his lips. He smiled at her as he took a little of 
 the food, and then he went to sleep again. She 
 slipped away to tell her mother the good news 
 that Iosco was certainly better. Virginia stepped 
 out of the wigwam into the cold night air. How 
 the wind howled I The silver moonlight lay on 
 everything, making the world in its white wind- 
 ing-sheet ghastly enough. The cold desolation 
 seemed to freeze Virginia's heart. She shud- 
 dered as she ran on. Here was Beth coming to 
 meet her. " Dear Beth, how good you are to 
 come ! Iosco is better. But what's the matter ? " 
 she asked, as Beth drew her toward the light 
 
102 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 that shone from the wigwam. Mistress Wilkins 
 was there, and two old squaws, she saw as she 
 reached the doorway. And her mother, where 
 was she ? A cry broke from Virginia as she 
 saw her lying white and motionless on the bed. 
 She threw herself on her knees, and laying her 
 head on her mother's breast she cried ascain and 
 again, " Mamma, dearest mamma ! Oh, speak 
 to me just once, your own little girl. Open 
 your eyes, please ! Do look at me, oh, please, 
 mamma." 
 
 But the still, calm face lay against the black 
 robe, in that peace which sorrow or pain alike 
 are powerless to disturb. 
 
 A hemorrhage had come on just after she had 
 left Iosco. She never spoke again, but lay with 
 folded hands till the angel of death closed her 
 eyes forever. Virginia was alone. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ** To cure heartache is godfather Time's business, and even 
 he is not invariably successful." — J. H. Ewing. 
 
 When great sorrow comes to us in youth, we 
 feel it must affect and change the whole world; 
 but when we have lived longer in this change- 
 able world, we take it for granted that the 
 whirl of life will go on as usual, only we our- 
 selves drop out for a little while, to fight with 
 our heartache alone, and to conquer it, with 
 God's help, ere we take up the busy thread of 
 our life again with placid faces, just as if our 
 thread and shuttle were as bright and beautiful 
 as before ; and perhaps when all our work looks 
 gray to us, we are weaving the most perfect and 
 beautiful pattern. 
 
 Poor little Virginia had never thought of life 
 without her mother, until that conversation 
 which Manteo had interrupted; and then her 
 mind was so full of Iosco's sickness that she did 
 not think of her mother's words again until that 
 
 105 
 
ti,if.=^>*^' 
 
 106 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 dreadful moment came when she called and 
 called, and no answer came from those still lips, 
 and she knew that her mother would never hold 
 her in her arms again and kiss her. Everything 
 went on just as before, except that the frost 
 soon changed to a thaw, game became more 
 plentiful, and the suffering less. But not so 
 Virginia's sorrow: it was so deep and intense 
 for a while, Mistress Wilkins thought it would 
 wear her young life out. Beth was her great 
 comfort through this lonely time: she was one 
 to love, one who really needed her, and the two 
 children truly loved each other. Iosco grew 
 quite strong after a time : he never forgot what 
 Mrs. Dare had done for him, and that it was in 
 saving his life she had hastened her own death. 
 He had always been fond of Virginia, and now 
 his love was mingled with gratitude. There 
 was hardly an hour of the day he did not bring 
 
 ^>1 some little offering for "Owaissa," or tell her 
 stories, or sing songs to her. Time softens the 
 
 s greatest and sharpest sorrow. Let us thank 
 God for it : we should die were it not so. 
 Though Virginia's heart was nearly broken by 
 her mother's death, and she wished that she too 
 , . might die, she did not die, but took her life up 
 bravely after a while; helping those among 
 
VIRGINIA BARE. 107 
 
 whom she lived and whom she really loved; 
 gathering flowers and forest treasures in the 
 summer ; watching the birds build their nests, 
 and the trees put on their pretty dresses in 
 budding-time ; helping in the work, and play- 
 ing merry games through roasting-ear time; in 
 the fall of the leaf gathering acorns and nuts, 
 and in winter sitting with others around the 
 wigwam fires of cedar-wood, and listening to 
 the stories which the old men told. 
 
 So the years passed by, and Owaissa grew 
 from a child to a girl. She was tall and 
 slender; her eyes had a more thoughtful ex- 
 pression than when she was a child, but in 
 other ways she was unchanged. She grew up a 
 perfectly natural girl, full of the poetry and 
 romance of the wild people of the forest. Iosco 
 was still her devoted friend: she looked upon 
 him as a brother. They wandered through the 
 forest together, gathering flowers or acorns or 
 sweet grasses. Sometimes they sat down and 
 rested on the banks of a little stream, and told 
 each other stories. Iosco's were of the wild 
 Indian lore. He told her of Odjibwa and the 
 Red Swan, of Hiawatha and his Minnehaha. 
 One day they sat on the bank of a little stream 
 which rushed on, making a tiny waterfall just 
 
108 VIRGINIA BABE. 
 
 below, which sang to them ; so Iosco thought, as 
 he sat there with Owaissa, while overhead the 
 pines waved their lofty branches, and the soft 
 breezes whispered love-songs among them. 
 Wild-flowers and delicate mosses nestled about 
 their feet. All around, laurel blossoms made 
 the forest beautiful and the air fragrant. Birds 
 were flying to and fro, and from a near tree a 
 whip-poor-will was singing to its mate, as if 
 it were telling its love. Iosco was watching 
 Virginia. She looked more like an angel than 
 ever, as she sat with her golden hair falling in 
 masses over her mantle of doe-skins, her slender 
 hands clasped while she listened to the water 
 and the birds. 
 
 Her eyes of deepest blue were looking 
 thoughtfully far away. Iosco was fond of 
 Virginia, very fond; but he never thought of 
 her as he did of the Indian maidens. The mo- 
 ments he spent with her were the happiest in 
 his life. When they walked hand in hand, a 
 strange thrill passed tlirough him. He would 
 have died for her willingly, had there been any 
 need. His quick eye saw now that she was sad 
 as she sat listening ; and he drew closer to her 
 as he asked, "Where do Owaissa^s thoughts 
 go, that they send such sorrow out of her 
 eyes?" 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 109 
 
 "Iosco," she said, "mamma would tell me if 
 she were here, that I ought to be thankful for 
 all God has given me. I often fancy when I 
 sit alone that I can hear her telling me just as 
 she used to, that it is one's duty not only to be 
 contented, but to be cheerful and happy. I 
 think I am usually, don't you, Iosco ? " 
 
 He nodded as he replied, " Owaissa is like a 
 bird, her eyes are so bright, her laugh is so 
 merry." 
 
 "I try to be," she went on, "and I am very 
 happy indeed. Every one is so kind to me ; 
 but sometimes I can't help wishing very much 
 that I could see some of my own people. I 
 should like to know if my father is alive, and if 
 he sometimes thinks of me. He went away 
 when I was only ten days old: I know he could 
 not forget his baby." 
 
 They sat silently for a few minutes, then Vir- 
 ginia looked up into Iosco's face. " You know," 
 she said softly, "sometimes I feel sure my 
 father will come for me and take me away." 
 
 Had she felt Iosco's hand, she would have 
 been astonished at its icy coldness, and would 
 have wondered what made him clinch his fingers 
 as if he were in pain. From that day a wild 
 dread of the white man's return haunted Iosco. 
 
110 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 An Indian never shows his emotion, so he only- 
 said quietly, "Did I ever tell Owaissa the 
 story of Battao? It is a beautiful one from the 
 far north, a captive of my father's told it to me." 
 
 "No: you never told it to me. I should like 
 to hear it," Virginia said, with a little sigh. 
 
 Iosco would have made an ideal picture as he 
 sat there. His black hair was thrown back 
 from a high forehead, beneath which two dark 
 eyes looked out, which were remarkable for 
 their depth and truth. He had a straight, well- 
 cut nose, and a mouth almost severe, so firm 
 and decided was its expression. When he 
 smiled, one forgot the stern look, for a sweet, 
 gentle expression transformed the face. It was 
 a classical face, and its owner had a deep sense 
 and appreciation of the poetry of life. Certainly 
 they made a study for an artist, — the fair girl 
 with her golden hair, and the graceful figure of 
 the Indian, as he told her the quaint old Indian 
 legend. 
 
 "Many, many moons back, in the sunny 
 north, over towards the setting sun, lived a 
 mighty Werowance whom they called Tyee. 
 His lands stretch all along the beautiful sound, 
 where fine wampum is found. This Tyee had a 
 daughter. The name of the beautiful maid was 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. Ill 
 
 Battao. Every one, even those far away, knew 
 of the rich wampum and the fine furs that would 
 belong to the man who should take Battao for 
 his wife. Her father said she should go to no 
 man whom she did not love, and he kept firmly 
 to this, though chiefs of great tribes came to 
 win her, and many from every part sought her. 
 Battao would look at none of them. 
 
 " One day a brave warrior came, tall and hand- 
 some. Battao looked at him, trusted his brave 
 eyes, and loved him. As they floated over the 
 smooth waters in Battao's swift canoe, they 
 came to a beautiful island, where they sat on 
 the shore and talked. And many days when 
 the sun had gone half-way on its journey, and 
 done its day's baking, so that the air was as 
 that which comes from the fire, Battao and her 
 maidens would cross to the beautiful island, 
 and there her lover would tell them strange 
 stories. As they listened, the maidens sifted 
 the soft sea-sand through their fingers, and as 
 it fell upon the shore it formed the shape of 
 whatever Battao's lover was saying ; there it 
 hardened, and yet may be found, and it brings 
 the favor of all the gods to any one who finds 
 one of the forms and wears it in his wampum 
 belt." 
 
112 VIRGINIA DARE, 
 
 " Oh, I should like to see some of the shapes, 
 Iosco, wouldn't you ? " asked Virginia. 
 
 "Yes," he said, "I should; and I should like 
 to go to that land, it is so sunny, our captive 
 said." 
 
 " It could not be more lovely than it is here," 
 Virginia replied; "but please go on and tell 
 me what became of Battao." 
 
 Iosco was happy for the present; at least he 
 had made Owaissa forget the white tribe, and 
 the canoes with pinions like wings, that she had 
 said she was sure would come. So he went on 
 gladly : — 
 
 "One day, when Battao, with her lover in 
 her canoe, and all her maids in their canoes, 
 were going back from the beautiful island, as 
 they came to the deep part of the water, Battao's 
 lover said some words to her in a strange lan- 
 guage that the maiden could not understand, 
 then sprang into the water. Battao did not 
 cry out, she only looked down where her lover 
 had disappeared; so did her maidens. But he 
 did not rise, nor could they see anything of him, 
 and they went home to their people. When 
 they told the strange story, all the people said 
 Battao's lover had drowned himself, and other 
 men began to come every hour. But Battao 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 113 
 
 would not look at them or their presents, saying 
 that her lover was not dead, that he said before 
 he jumped into the water he would come 
 back in twelve days. None of her people be- 
 lieved Battao ; and her maids went into the 
 wood, wailing and mourning for her loss. But 
 every day when the sun was half-way on its 
 journey, she would call her maids from the 
 wood and lead them down to the water. Then 
 they would paddle their canoes to the place 
 where Battao's lover had disappeared, and she 
 would look down into the water, in which she 
 could see the clouds, the sun, and even the trees 
 and mountains, all looking at themselves. She 
 saw not the brave and handsome lover until the 
 twelfth day came. And then, while she looked 
 down, he sprang up out of the shining water 
 into Battao's canoe." 
 
 " Oh, how happy she must have been ! " cried 
 Virginia. 
 
 "Yes, very happy," continued Iosco, "and 
 all of Battao's people; for her lover brought 
 many presents with him, rare and wonderful 
 flowers that grow in the sea, and large pearls. 
 For Battao he brought beautiful coral. Then 
 there was a great happiness among all the peo- 
 ple ; for Battao and her lover were married. As 
 
114 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 they paddled out in their canoe one day soon 
 after, Battao asked her lover where he went to 
 down in the water. He told her his people 
 lived there, and he wanted her to go and see 
 his tribe, where they hunted whales and seals, 
 and gathered pearls and coral and beautiful 
 shells, such as she had never seen. She took 
 his hand, and together they sprang into the 
 shining water. All the maidens, seeing the 
 water swallow Battao up, gave a great cry that 
 shook the whole forest. But she called out to 
 them that she would come back to see her 
 father. All her people mourned for her, and 
 said some evil spirit must have taken her, and 
 she must now be a fish in the water. But on 
 the twelfth day she came to her people and to 
 her father's wigwam, and told great and wonder- 
 ful stories of the things she had seen. And she 
 brought beautiful presents to her father, and 
 to all her people. When she would go back, 
 her father bowed down and grieved so that he 
 would have died, but that she put her hand on 
 his breast and promised him that while he lived 
 his daughter would be with him six moons 
 every year. And so she was; the rest of the 
 time she was with her husband in the big sea- 
 water. But she still remembered and loved her 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 115 
 
 people, and warns them of storms, even to this 
 day, our captive said. She is seen over the 
 place where she and her lover went down, and 
 she looks tall and misty. No one dares come 
 near her, for something dreadful has happened 
 to all who have ever tried; before every dread- 
 ful storm she comes, and the people call the 
 island to which she and her maidens went to 
 listen to the lover's wonderful stories, the island 
 of Battao." 
 
 They sat silently for a few moments, when 
 Iosco had finished the story ; then Virginia 
 asked, " Do you think, Iosco, that all can tell 
 whether they will love each other when they 
 look at each other for the first time ? " 
 
 There was a strange look in Iosco's eyes, as 
 he answered, " Iosco can tell little about such 
 things, Owaissa ; some people surely could." 
 
 After another pause, Virginia said, "• Your 
 stories are so beautiful, Iosco, and I love them ; 
 but they make me wish that I knew more of 
 the stories of my people ; there must be many 
 that I have never heard, and even some of those 
 my mother told me I have forgotten. I ought to 
 have remembered them, and then I could tell 
 you them, and teach you more about our God. 
 I speak of him only to you, Iosco, for I know 
 
116 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 SO little ; I cannot even remember for myself ; 
 and when I try to talk to Mistress Wilkins 
 about him, she shakes her head and says, ' Oh ! 
 he has forgotten us. If he loved us he would 
 take us from this place ; don't speak to me about 
 him, child, this is not his land. He cannot 
 hear us when we speak to him. There is no 
 priest or altar to hallow the land.' But, Iosco, 
 when I am alone in the forest sometimes, and 
 all is still, I can almost hear him speaking to 
 me, and I feel and know that he is close to me, 
 and I want so much to know him. I can only 
 kneel down and say as mamma used, ' Dear Lord,' 
 and I know he heai'S me. Beth or Patience 
 or any of the others does not know as much as 
 I: they have forgotten, or were never taught 
 as I was, and you know I could not ask any of 
 the men. Patience says they are the very 
 worst that came over from England. I wish 
 you knew, Iosco." 
 
 He did not reply; and they sat quietly to- 
 gether, only the song of the little birds above, 
 and the sound of the falling water broke the 
 perfect stillness. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 ** There are momeats in life of real sorrow, when we judge 
 things by a higher standard, and care vastly little what people 
 say." — J. H. EwiNG. 
 
 " And the forests dark and lonely, 
 Moved through all their depths of darkness, 
 Sighed, ' Farewell.' " Longfellow. 
 
 Manteo was a wise and brave chief, as well 
 as a good and thoughtful one, and was much 
 loved by his people. The dozen Englishmen 
 who yet remained as the remnant of the Roan- 
 oke settlers could not understand the reverence 
 with which the savages treated their leader. 
 His word was law. . His decisions were just, 
 without regard to whom he was judging. 
 
 One autumn the twelve white men sat at 
 their work of hollowinof wooden bowls. As 
 they worked, they talked about their future, and 
 the prospect of seeing England again, which all 
 confessed was very small. 
 
 " I tell you," said one, who looked strangely 
 like Jack Barnes, and was, in fact, his brother, 
 "I tell you what it is, fellows, we'll never see 
 England if we wait for those lazy cowards to 
 
 119 
 
 # 
 
120 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 come over for us. We must go over ourselves 
 if we are ever to get there." 
 
 The men all laughed ; and one, Bill Smith, 
 said, " Why don't you tell us to swim over the 
 big pond ? We're nothing but slaves here, any- 
 way, and I'm sick of it. Having to obey a red 
 savage, an old heathen dog ! " 
 
 A third one, who really had the best face in 
 the crowd, replied, " I tell ye, lads, it's a bad 
 business, and that's true enough. But ye're not 
 bettering it by muttering about it. Manteo is 
 not a bad one, and ye forget he is not a heathen ; 
 was he not christened by Master Bradford? " 
 
 ''That's all quite as you say; but it takes 
 more'n a few drops of water to make his ugly, 
 copper-colored skin clean, and a heap more to 
 make him a Christian, I'm thinking. I tell you, 
 Gray, you're easily taken in," Barnes said, 
 laughing. " I tell you what it is, lads," he con- 
 tinued, " if we're ever to go to England, we 
 must take the bull by the horns in the shape of 
 Manteo, and get rid of him. These red fellows 
 will not know what to do if he's gone, and we 
 can make 'em obey us. And we'll set 'em to 
 work at building a craft to carry us home." 
 
 As the men sat at work, their evil imag-ina- 
 tions and plans were making mischief faster 
 
VIRGINIA DARE, 121 
 
 than their hands were making bowls. At the 
 same time, not a great distance off, Virginia sat 
 under the old willow-tree, working at the rude 
 spinning that Mistress Wilkins had taught her. 
 The day was beautiful, and she felt a strange 
 sense of joy even in living. The world all 
 about was so beautiful ; as she spun, she sang, 
 first one of the wild Indian songs, then an old 
 English hymn that she remembered, though im- 
 perfectly. She sang and worked, as the sun 
 played with her yellow hair and turned it into 
 gold. 
 
 Her thoughts went far across the water. That 
 great longing for her mother, then for her father, 
 crept into her heart. Her hands rested idly. 
 She must look out on the water. What if those 
 great canoes should be coming in sight even 
 now ! There seemed to be an odd stillness, as 
 if something were going to happen. She wan- 
 dered along a little wood-path to a hill, beyond 
 which she could see the clear water. There 
 was the great blue sea, sparkling and dancing in 
 the sunlight. Iosco had chanced to see the 
 slight figure climbing the hill ; he now stood 
 watching her as the breeze played with her 
 golden hair, and the clear blue sky formed a 
 background. He knew what she was looking 
 
122 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 for, and he was pained. Could she never be 
 happy with his people in their simple lives? 
 How could he expect it ? But what was wrong ? 
 The color suddenly died out of Owaissa's 
 cheeks ; she clasped her hands as if in pain, and 
 sjDrang forward, out of his sight. 
 
 Hurrying up the hill, Iosco could see nothing 
 but Virginia's waving hair. She turned her 
 head, and even far away as he was, he could see 
 that her face was as white as the dove's down 
 in her mantle. Iosco caught only one glimpse 
 of it, then she was out of sight. He was an 
 Indian ; one sight was enough. He knew 
 Owaissa was in trouble, and bending his body 
 slightly, he went swiftly across the little knoll. 
 Surely it must be the canoes with the pinions, 
 that he so much dreaded. There was the sea, 
 clear and blue, no sight of anything good or bad 
 on it ; but a strange and awful sight was before 
 him, one which he never forgot. 
 
 There was Manteo's tall figure tied to a tree 
 like any mean captive. By him stood Barnes 
 and two or three of the roughest white men. 
 A little way off stood Gray and one or two 
 others, who seemed dissatisfied and distressed 
 at what was happening. In front, flushed with 
 anger and indignation, was Virginia. She was 
 
VIRGINIA DAEE. 123 
 
 speaking, he could hear her, more like an eagle 
 defending her young, than a dove : " Shame on 
 you, Barnes ! Shame on you ! Shame on you 
 all, to touch the man who has saved our lives, 
 and cared for us all these years ! You are 
 worse than the savages you despise. We have 
 been safe, going in and out among them, and 
 you dare to harm their chief. I'm ashamed to 
 be one of you people ! " 
 
 It would have taken a good deal to shame 
 Barnes. He only muttered, *' You are nothing 
 better than a heathen savage yourself.'* 
 
 She turned fiercely towards him. Iosco could 
 see her eyes flashing as she replied, " You make 
 me ashamed of the white people who are left 
 here. As you say, I am no better than these 
 Indians, who are Christians indeed. They have 
 given us food and shelter all these years, and 
 what do we give them? No better? I wish I 
 were half as brave, half as noble, as some of 
 them are. You are not worthy to touch the old 
 man whom you have bound. One cry would 
 bring ten times your number of Manteo's men, 
 who would kill you all, should they see their 
 chief in danger." And she added, her eyes 
 gleaming with excitement, "I will give the cry, 
 if Manteo will not. And if one man is found 
 here he will be killed, as he deserves." 
 
124 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 Barnes drew a knife from his belt as he came 
 towards her, saying, " If you dare open your 
 mouth, I will soon silence you. Try me ! " 
 
 A slight rustle, a swift movement, and Iosco 
 stood before Barnes, who shrank before the tall 
 figure, and every white man fled. Virginia 
 sprang to Manteo. With Iosco's knife she cut 
 the cords that bound him to the tree. She 
 kissed his hand where the cord had torn the 
 flesh. The old chief was moved by her gentle, 
 caressing care, and showed more feeling than 
 when he was threatened with death. She knelt 
 there by the old man, trying to show her love. 
 Iosco stood at a distance, with folded arms, 
 looking far away. He was thinking, surely this 
 would make Owaissa forget the canoes with 
 wings, when a sudden cry made him turn. It 
 was Virginia; she sprang up as if to shield 
 Manteo, who tottered a moment, then fell heav- 
 ily to the ground. 
 
 "An arrow, Iosco, an arrow!" she cried, as 
 she knelt by the prostrate form. Iosco bent 
 down, his expression unchanged, save for a 
 strange look in his dark eyes. He heard his 
 father heave a deep sigh, then all was still. 
 
 Manteo was dead. The arrow had pierced 
 his heart; but where had it come from? Iosco 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 125 
 
 sprang up, the savage thirst for vengeance 
 throbbing through his veins. With his hand 
 on his tomahawk, one moment he stood looking 
 down on his dead father, by whom Virginia 
 knelt, her face rigid with horror. Looking up, 
 she saw Iosco so changed she hardly knew him. 
 He was staring at her, though he did not see 
 her. She thought his anger and vengeance were 
 turned on her. The scene of horror had 
 changed her from a merry girl to a woman. 
 The voice in which she spoke was deep and 
 clear. 
 
 "Iosco," she said, "kill me if you will. I 
 would die a hundred times over if I could bring 
 back the life of the great and good Werowance 
 who saved us. God will reward him. I know 
 he will ; and he will punish us. Nothing you 
 can do to me will be hard or cruel. I will die 
 any death you choose." 
 
 Iosco turned quickly away. He had forgot- 
 ten Virginia until she spoke ; he was absorbed 
 in the dreadful thought of his father's death, 
 and the idea that he had been killed by men 
 whom he had not only saved, but had treated 
 with every kindness. His only comfort lay in 
 the thought of vengeance. But Virginia's 
 words brought back his better self. He could 
 
126 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 not look at her, and turned away to hide his 
 grief. There came before him the memory of 
 Mrs. Dare sitting under the willow-tree, while 
 he, Virginia, and the other children listened to 
 her telling a story. He thought he could hear 
 her saying, "Those very men whom he came 
 to save, whom he loved and lived for, nailed 
 him to the tree, pierced his dear hands and 
 feet, and while they were doing it, they mocked 
 and spit at him, and called him vile names. 
 He was greater than any chief you ever saw or 
 heard of. But he did not get angry. He was 
 only so sad. Even in the moment of greatest 
 pain, he looked up to his Father, the Great 
 Spirit, and said, 'Forgive them, for they know 
 not what they do.' '* 
 
 Iosco felt he could have forgiven anything 
 done to himself. But was it right to think of 
 forgiving his father's murderers? 
 
 The answer seemed to come in Mrs. Dare's 
 words again : " The dear Jesus could have killed 
 every one of those men, and come down from 
 off the cross; but he would not, for he loved 
 us so much he was willing to bear all, to teach 
 us how we could forgive each other. He not 
 only forgave them, but asked his Father to for- 
 give them also J' 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 127 
 
 The breeze, the morning sunlight, the little 
 birds, and the dancing waves, all seemed to be 
 saying over and over to him, " The dear Jesus 
 could have killed every one of those men ; but 
 he loved us all so much he was willing to bear 
 all that to teach us how we could forgive each 
 other." Was it, then, such a great thing to be 
 able to forgive? He knew he could have every 
 one of those pale-faces killed ; every one would 
 expect it. He never for one moment included 
 Virginia when he thought of the white people. 
 To him she was a being all by herself. As he 
 turned, he saw her kneeling by the dead body, 
 her hands clasped, her face upturned. It was 
 white as marble. She must be speaking to the 
 Great Spirit. Those treacherous hands could 
 strike her from where they had struck his fa- 
 ther. For the first time Iosco saw they were in 
 danger, and he sent forth a great cry into the 
 forest, which he knew would bring his people. 
 Virginia knew what it meant. She rose and 
 stood waiting. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 "Tis sweet to stammer one letter 
 Of the Eternal language — on earth it is called Forgiveness." 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 Oh, that dreadful day ! The howls and cries 
 of the men, women, and children, as they came 
 in reply to Iosco's call, and saw their chief, their 
 father, lying dead ! They also saw Virginia, 
 motionless, as if she had been carved out of 
 stone, standing over the dead. He had been 
 their faithful Werowance. They stood aghast, 
 unable even to fancy who could have done 
 the dreadful deed. The medicine-man said 
 solemnly : — 
 
 " The great Werowance rested under the ar- 
 bor of wild vines that shade the wigwam, and 
 as he lay on the mat in the heat of the mid-day 
 sun, a pale-face stood before the Werowance, 
 saying he had somewhat to speak, but must 
 speak it with naught but pale-faces to hear, for 
 it was a secret or charm of their tribe. Wero- 
 wance was true, and trusted him : he went into 
 
 131 
 
132 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 the heat and sun, following the pale-face. No 
 man has seen him till now, when he clings to 
 the earth. Why came not the pale-faces at the 
 call of the Werowance ? " 
 
 A mighty shout rose from the people as they 
 moved around the body, and around Iosco, who 
 stood with folded arms and faced the scene. 
 Then the tumult ceased. The oldest of the 
 company came forward ; taking Iosco's hand, 
 he put it first to his head and then to his heart, 
 and so gave his oath of allegiance to the new 
 chief. The others did likewise, till all the men 
 had pledged themselves. Then they stood in 
 silence to hear what he would say. 
 
 Iosco was a true Indian : he would have 
 scorned to show deep feeling in his face or man- 
 ner. He said, very quietly and calmly, " Carry 
 my father to the wigwam." 
 
 They moved quickly to obey him. An old 
 Indian put Manteo's pipe in his hand that it 
 might be ready for him on his way to the Happy 
 Hunting Ground. A young brave who had 
 hated Virginia always, because as a child she 
 had shown a preference for Iosco, now seized 
 her arm to drag her away. But a strong voice 
 made him stop. 
 
 " Stay, take thy hands off ! " Then leaning 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 133 
 
 forward, Iosco said, " No Indian man shall 
 touch a whiteskin save a man of full size." 
 
 Virginia noted his strangely altered face. 
 Oh, he must be very, very angry, she thought ! 
 Surely he would never speak to her again. But 
 he was coming towards her. He took her hand 
 and led her away. 
 
 The sun dipped low in the west, sending a 
 crimson glow through the forest ; the birds 
 chirped their good-nights to each other as they 
 swung on the branches of the great trees. Per- 
 fect peace seemed to rest on everj^thing. Iosco 
 stood on the bank of the lake ; on its smooth 
 surface the glory of the sky was clearly re- 
 flected. A slight noise made him turn. Vir- 
 ginia stood by him, her face upturned, her beau- 
 tiful eyes fixed on him wistfully. 
 
 " O Iosco I " she cried, coming nearer, " for- 
 give me for disturbing you ; but, dear Iosco, I 
 am so sorry, so very sorry for you, and so 
 ashamed of my people. I must tell you only 
 this once, that our people at home would thank 
 you if they could only know what you have 
 done. We deserve to be killed. If the big ca- 
 noes ever come over, full of white men like my 
 father and grandfather, who, I am sure, must 
 have been as good and brave as Manteo, — whom 
 
134 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 they loved, you know, — if they ever come, 
 Iosco, tell them what he did for us, and please 
 ask them for my father, and show him where 
 my grave is, and my mother's also." 
 
 Her voice faltered, but she still stood looking 
 steadily at him ; there was nothing weak or sen- 
 timental about her ; she was a brave girl, and 
 meant what she said, every word of it. She 
 knew the wickedness of the deed which her peo- 
 ple had been guilty of, not only murdering with- 
 out cause, but murdering the one who had 
 sheltered and defended them. She took it for 
 granted that Iosco was very angry. She thought 
 it must make him feel enraged even to look at 
 her. But when he turned and looked into her 
 eyes, she saw no vengeance in his face. He took 
 her hand and pressed it to his lips and to his 
 heart. The color rose to her white cheeks, and 
 her eyes filled with tears, which rolled down 
 over her flushed face, and fell upon Iosco's 
 hand. She let him draw her closer, and as she 
 looked up she could not understand the expres- 
 sion in his dark eyes: it frightened her, yet 
 there was nothing angry or fierce, there was a 
 new, strange tenderness. 
 
 He said simply, " Owaissa, Owaissa ! " as they 
 stood there together. The sun sank out of sight 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 135 
 
 and the rosy glow was gone. The still water 
 of the lake showed only the reflection of the 
 moon, and the two figures, one tall and dark, 
 with rich mantle and wampum belt, the other, 
 fair and slender, with a robe of woven turkey 
 feathers lined with down from the breast of the 
 wood-dove. They stood close together under 
 the clear heavens, as they had often done ever 
 since they could remember ; but it was so differ- 
 ent. What made the strange difference, neither 
 quite knew. At last Virginia stole softly away. 
 The birds had gone to bed, and the moon was 
 high in the sky, sending down a soft silver light 
 over the great forest land. It looked at the 
 little lake with its smooth water on which the 
 two fiofures had been reflected at sunset. Now 
 it showed only one. He stood alone with folded 
 arms and bowed head. For a long time he had 
 stood there, even while the shadows cast by the 
 moon were lengthening. Then he walked quickly 
 up and down the bank. The tiny waves lapped 
 his moccasins, but he heeded them not. At last, 
 as if worn out with his solitary struggle, he 
 threw himself on the ground, and lay so still, he 
 looked more like a dead than a living form. 
 There alone, with only the screech of the owl in 
 the forest, or the call of the heron to break the 
 
136 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 stillness, in the dim light of the moon, alone 
 with nature, Iosco was struggling with himself. 
 He seemed to be two beings ; one, the better self 
 which Mrs. Dare's teachings had awakened, 
 which saw and dimly realized the light and glory 
 of the living Saviour ; the other being, an Indian, 
 with all the passion and vengeance naturally 
 found in the descendant of a long line of fierce 
 and warlike chiefs, whose creed was, two eyes 
 for one eye, and always revenge, though it be 
 waited for a long time, even from generation to 
 generation. This being seemed to urge relent- 
 lessly : " They have slain your father ; make 
 them pay for every drop of his blood with a 
 scalp ! " The better self said over and over 
 again, " He loved us all so much, he was willing 
 to bear all tliis to teach us how to forgive each 
 other. The dear Lord could have killed every 
 one of those bad men." The first voice, almost 
 in reply, seemed to say, " If you get rid of all 
 the other pale-faces, you can keep Owaissa al- 
 ways. You can easily conceal one, while a 
 number would be discovered if the great canoes 
 should come looking for them. If you do not 
 have these men killed, your braves will do it. 
 It is not safe for them here. Even as a tiger 
 steals her prey they will be seized." And yet, 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 137 
 
 in the darkness two great blue eyes seemed to 
 look wistfully at him. He could hear the dear 
 girl's voice, sweet and soft as the voice of a bird, 
 saying, " God must be very angry with us. I 
 know he will punish us, and he will reward 
 Manteo." Was God really going to punish and 
 judge ? he wondered. The voice of the better 
 self seemed to be saying, "If you could not 
 keep them here, you could perhaps send them 
 away somewhere else." Ah, yes ! there was the 
 great Werowance Powhatan, in whose friendship 
 and esteem his father had stood very high. He 
 might be glad to have some more workers in his 
 tribe. These white people had introduced many 
 things among his people, Iosco knew ; a wonder- 
 ful manner of spinning, and various other things. 
 The captives, for such they now were, must be 
 out of the way before morning, and no one must 
 know where they had gone. How could he get 
 them off unseen ? 
 
 He rose. The struggle was over : the better 
 self had conquered ; but the fight had been a hard 
 one. As he walked through the forest he mused. 
 Should he tell Owaissa, or let her discover that 
 they were gone in the morning? He never 
 thought of including her in the party that were 
 to go ; and yet, why not ? If it were unsafe for 
 
138 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 the other whites, might it not be unsafe for her? 
 Would she not want to go with her people ? She 
 belonged to them. 
 
 He passed through the little village ; all were 
 sleeping ; even the night itself seemed awed by 
 the dreadful deed of the day. There lay the 
 great Werowance Manteo. On the ground by 
 the bier Virginia had thrown herself. 
 
 As he looked at her, she stirred, sighed, and 
 muttered something. He caught his own name, 
 the rest was indistinct. 
 
 " The Owaissa is like unto the angels she used 
 to say were guarding our Werowance ! " It was 
 Ranteo's voice. He was on watch, fortunately 
 for Iosco's plan. 
 
 " Ranteo knew my father when he was made a 
 Christian ; Mrs. Dare has told me about it. When 
 the white man put the water on the Werowance's 
 head, Ranteo was by his side. It was in the 
 moon before the great canoes went over the 
 water with all the white hearts, who left the 
 pale-faces with black hearts behind," Iosco said. 
 
 " To kill us," the old Indian muttered. 
 
 Iosco continued, " Christians forgive those 
 who do them harm, so I am going to do what a 
 Christian would ; I am going to let all the pale- 
 faces go away, and not harm them. The son of 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 139 
 
 Manteo the Christian will be Christian too. 
 Will Ranteo help him ? " 
 
 Ranteo looked more surprised than if the skies 
 had fallen. Then he walked over, and stood 
 looking at Virginia for some time ; coming back 
 he said, " In that dark night long ago, when the 
 child crouched on the rock to save Ranteo, as a 
 dove might try to save an eagle, the pale lady- 
 spoke, and Ranteo promised to be the friend to 
 her child," he said, pointing to Virginia, " and 
 he will keep that promise now." 
 
 "Thinks Ranteo that Owaissa must go too?" 
 Iosco asked. The old man shook his head. "It 
 is not safe for a dove to be with hungry foxes. 
 The white dove must go," he said. 
 
 An hour later a little group stood on the bank 
 of the James River, known then as the Powhatan 
 flu, on which they were to fly to safety. Iosco 
 was to go with them till daybreak, when he 
 was to return, and send Ranteo to guide them 
 the rest of the way to Powhatan, on the Youg- 
 hianund flu. They were to conceal themselves 
 during the day. The moon was far on its way, 
 but it smiled on them as they glided swiftly over 
 the smooth water. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " I bold him great who for love's sake 
 Can give with earnest, generous will; 
 But he who takes for love's sweet sake, 
 I think I hold more generous still." 
 
 Proctor. 
 
 News came from Ranteo, just as Iosco was 
 starting on his return to Croatoan, that the 
 whole tribe had risen up against him for help- 
 ing his father's murderers to escape, and they 
 would not have him for their chief. This was 
 the doing of the medicine-men, who had lost 
 much of their former power since Manteo's visit 
 to England, for he had given up many of the 
 old superstitions. Ranteo strongly urged Iosco 
 to go on to Powhatan, and if he were received 
 kindly, to stay there for a while ; if his people 
 needed him, Ranteo would let him know. He 
 felt certain they would soon want him, for Men- 
 inosia, Manteo's brother, who was now to be 
 chief, was hard and cruel. So it came about 
 that Iosco reached the camp of the great Pow- 
 hatan on the Youghianund flu at Werowocomoca, 
 in company with the miserable remnant of the 
 
 143 
 
144 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 English Roanoke Colony. It was at dusk when 
 he made known who he was, and they were ad- 
 mitted into the camp, and told that the great 
 Werowance would see the son of the brave war- 
 rior, Manteo, when the sun next stood over the 
 tall pine-tree. The next day was rainy, so the 
 medicine-men said the sun was not there, as they 
 could not see it, and Iosco was obliged to wait 
 till the following day, when the sun came out 
 bright and clear, and the whole world seemed 
 shining with unusual lustre. The fugitives 
 would know their fate soon. At noon Iosco 
 would be summoned to the great Werowance. 
 
 The sun had just come above the horizon as 
 Virginia stepped out of the wigwam, the birds 
 were singing their morning hymn, the little 
 squirrels were scampering to and fro getting 
 food for their young ; a few of the women were 
 beginning to work at skins, others were prepar- 
 ing food. They looked curiously at Virginia as 
 she passed them, but did not speak, for she 
 looked sad, and they were sorry for her. She 
 must be the wife of the young chief, they thought. 
 But where did he find a squaw with eyes like 
 the sky, and hair like the sun ? She passed un- 
 der the shadow of the great pines alone. All 
 the world seemed to be in families, or at least to 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 145 
 
 belong to some one, while she was all alone. She 
 had never known a relation but her mother. 
 Oh, for that mother ! why could she not have 
 gone with her ? 
 
 Virginia had lived long enough among the In- 
 dians to learn to restrain any display of feeling. 
 And yet the thought of her mother in that sad, 
 lonely hour was too much. She did not cry out, 
 or even sob,' as another English girl would have 
 done. She only sank down at the foot of the 
 great pine, covering her face. A little moan of 
 "mother," seemed to shake her whole frame. 
 Then she lay there so motionless that the little 
 birds flew about her and never noticed her. 
 Hundreds of miles across the water her thoughts 
 travelled to her father. What could he be like, 
 and where must he be ? Would he ever come 
 for his poor child ? Oh, how she longed for him, 
 that father whom she had never seen ! Must 
 she die alone here? And if she should die, 
 would she go to her mother? She hardly knew 
 the great God to whom her mother had gone. 
 Would he know her ? Or was it really as Mis- 
 tress Wilkins had said, that he would not listen 
 to the prayers of his children in a heatlien land ? 
 Did it not really belong to him ? Then she fan- 
 cied slie was sitting on her mother's lap, and 
 
146 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 listening to the wonderful story of the creation, 
 and her mother saying, " After sin had come, 
 God's sorrow was so great that he promised to 
 send a Redeemer, which would be his own dear 
 Son, and he would come to save us all." If he 
 was, then, such a loving Father, he could not for- 
 get one of his children, and if he made the whole 
 world, it must all belong to him. All these peo- 
 ple must belong to him too, and they did not 
 even know him. Perhaps she had been sent to 
 teach them. Why hadn't her mother been spared 
 a little longer to teach her ? Oh, for some one 
 to tell her over again what she had heard from 
 her mother when she was too young to remember 
 or understand it ! 
 
 An earnest prayer for guidance rose to her 
 lips. There were no special words, only the 
 cry of the child to the Father whom she felt was 
 listening. She had clasped her hands, and was 
 looking up so earnestly that she did not see the 
 bushes drawn aside and a young Indian maid, a 
 mere child of nine or ten, step out and then 
 draw back and look at her curiously. Hearing 
 a sound among the leaves, Virginia turned, and 
 saw the child also looking up to see what was 
 there to gaze at so earnestly. 
 
 She was a strangely beautiful little figure as 
 
VIRGINIA BARE. 147 
 
 she stood there, one foot raised as if to step for- 
 ward, but resting still on the root of a great 
 tree that rose some distance out of the ground. 
 She wore a robe or mantle of fur, for it was only- 
 May, and the Indians are never in a hurry to 
 change their few articles of clothing ; besides, it 
 had been the gift of her brother, whom she had 
 loved dearly. The mantle was loosely girded, 
 and fell low on her shoulders, over which masses 
 of dark hair fell in dusky profusion. Her dark 
 eyes were full of wonder at seeing Virginia, and 
 at her strange position. Both looked at each 
 other for a moment, wondering who the other 
 could be. Then the Indian child sprang forward 
 like a young deer, and threw herself on the 
 ground by Virginia, and looked tenderly in her 
 face, her great eyes full of pity, as she held out 
 a garland of red flowers which she had been 
 holding. 
 
 Virginia took it with a smile ; but the child 
 snatched it back, and bound it about Virginia's 
 head. Then she drew back, pointed to the wavy 
 golden hair and blue eyes with a strange look 
 of awe, and clasped her hands, and bowed very 
 low. Virginia caught one of the brown hands. 
 She said laughingly, "I am not a goddess or 
 a spirit, I am only a girl. Who are you ? " 
 
148 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 The child did not now draw her hand away. 
 She said in a pretty way, putting her head on 
 one side, "It is Cleopatra, the daughter of 
 Werowance Powhatan, the sister of Nantiquas, 
 the bravest, strongest Indian who ever shot an 
 arrow." As she spoke, a bird-call sounded 
 through the forest. She answered it almost ex- 
 actly. There was a crackling and breaking 
 among the bushes, and a young warrior stood 
 before them. 
 
 "Does not the fairest little maid go to the 
 Great Father, when all are gathered to see the 
 mighty wonder which is like a linnet with a 
 finch's bill, the captive from Croatoan, with eyes 
 from the sky and" — But seeing Virginia, 
 he stopped. 
 
 The sunlight peeping through the trees fell 
 on Virginia's hair till it shone like gold. They 
 stood looking at each other for several moments. 
 Then the Indian maid took Virginia's hand and 
 pressed it to her breast. Nantiquas at once did 
 likewise, and then said, "The one with eyes 
 from the sky belongs to the Spirit. Means it 
 evil or good to the camp of the mighty Pow- 
 hatan? He is a brave Werowance." And he 
 took his sister's hand as she stood beside him. 
 
 " I do not belong to any spirit," Virginia said, 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 149 
 
 smiling ; "I came with the white people whom 
 Iosco, the son of Manteo, is seeking shelter for, 
 and my forest name is Owaissa." 
 
 " Owaissa looks more like her namesake than 
 like the white tribe whom the great Werowance 
 is now to hear of," replied Nantiquas. 
 
 " Is the sun at the top of the tall pine ? Oh, 
 I must go to Iosco ; where is he, can you tell 
 me?" Virginia asked, almost passing them in 
 her eagerness. 
 
 "Nantiquas will take the Owaissa maid to 
 the wigwam of the Werowance Po^vhatan ; the 
 brave Iosco sits before the door." As he spoke, 
 he turned and led the way, and the maidens fol- 
 lowed him. Virginia could not help noticing 
 how tall and handsome he was, his long black 
 hair pushed back from his high forehead. He 
 wore a skin girded about his waist with a belt 
 of wampum. Over his shoulder hung a quiver 
 of arrows, and on his left arm he carried a bow. 
 In his belt he wore a tomahawk, and across his 
 forehead was bound the skin of a green serpent, 
 its bright eyes gleaming over his left temple. 
 From his right ear to his waist was fastened a 
 long string of pearls. 
 
 A strange sight was the wigwam or bower in 
 which Powhatan held his court. He sat on a 
 
150 VIRGINIA DARE, 
 
 couch, which looked not unlike one of our 
 modern bedsteads. It was made of fine wood, 
 rudely carved with strange devices. He wore 
 a robe of raccoon-skin, with a belt of the rarest 
 wampum. His powerful arms were decorated 
 with metal bracelets. The ground around him 
 was strewn with dried sweet grasses and crushed 
 pine-needles that made the air fragrant. At his 
 head and feet sat two beautiful maidens. A 
 hundred bowmen formed, as it were, the wall 
 or outside of the court-chamber. In front of 
 them were a hundred women with bare necks 
 and arms, which were dyed with paccoon and 
 decorated with white coral. Beside the great 
 Werowance sat a beautiful girl about twelve or 
 fourteen. She looked like Cleopatra, and was, 
 in fact, her sister Pocahontas, known to her 
 "people as Mataoka.A She gazed wonderingly at 
 Virginia as Nantiquas and Cleopatra led her in, 
 and she took her place among the wives and 
 daughters that sat at the head of Powhatan's 
 couch, on the right side of which, on mats, were 
 seated the priests, or medicine-men, singing a 
 queer dirge, keeping time to the melody with 
 their grotesquely painted bodies. The curious 
 song continued while Iosco entered. He was in 
 the dress of a prince, wearing a white skin 
 
VIRGINIA DARE, 151 
 
 girded with his father's rare and beautiful wam- 
 pum belt, in which was supposed to rest a great 
 charm. On his feet he wore moccasins made of 
 skins and beautifully wrought with queer pat- 
 terns. Across his forehead were bound some 
 rare and beautiful feathers, which rose high 
 above his tall figure and nodded gracefully as 
 he moved. He was attended only by one of his 
 braves and three of the whites, who were dressed 
 as Indians, and carried the presents he had 
 brought from Croatoan, which they had now 
 laid before him. An odd medley enough they 
 were — a coil of deer sinews, a small belt of 
 wampum, a string of noughmass, and last, but 
 not least in the eyes of the chief, an old rusty 
 English sword. 
 
 The chief did not deign to notice the things 
 till the sword was put down, then he extended 
 his great hand, and picked it up with a gleam of 
 delight in his small, dark eyes as he held it. He 
 took from his mouth his long pipe, passed it to 
 Iosco, who smoked for some moments in silence. 
 Then Powhatan nodded to Iosco, whp returned 
 the pipe and began his tale, not as if he were 
 making a petition, but as if he were chanting 
 or reciting a story. He told first of Manteo's 
 going to England, then of the white men com- 
 
152 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 ing to Croatoan; of the years that had passed 
 since, when they had lived in peace together ; 
 then of his father's death, and the anger of his 
 people, and his wish to remain or leave the two 
 dozen pale-faces that were yet alive at Wero- 
 wocomoca. He spoke of their skill in many 
 things not known to the Indian people. 
 
 He told it in a sing-song drawl, as if he did 
 not care in the least. But when the medicine- 
 men began to mutter, " They are ghosts ; have 
 none of them ; they kill," Powhatan looked at 
 the tliree white attendants, who certainly were 
 weird looking, with their yellow, grisly faces, 
 their colorless eyes, and white skins, and shook 
 his head unfavorably. 
 
 Iosco looked anxiously over at Virginia. It 
 was evident she was his chief anxiety; but 
 she, mistaking his look, thought he wanted her, 
 and sprang to him, saying, "Must we go, and 
 where?" 
 
 Powhatan half raised himself to look at her, 
 as she clung to the tall figure, fixing upon him 
 her great blue eyes, her wavy golden hair falling 
 loosely about her. Even the medicine-men 
 stopped their muttering, and the beautiful prin- 
 cess Mataoka bent over her father and whispered 
 something in his ear. He could not but admire 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 153 
 
 her beauty, old savage as he was, and he nodded 
 to his daughter, who led Virginia away to her 
 own wigwam. Then he ordered food to be 
 brought to Iosco, which was his way of showing 
 his welcome. And Iosco knew that he and his 
 party were safe for the present. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
/ 
 
 !■» 
 
 CHAPTER XIIL 
 
 " She was lost in a country new and strange, 
 With lakes and with mountains high, 
 With forests wide, where the redmen range, 
 And shores where the sea-hirds fly." 
 
 Fair and lovely was that sunny Virginia 
 country. No wonder the ships went back to 
 England with fairy tales. No wonder that, 
 in spite of mishaps and disasters, there were 
 always more of the quiet English folk ready 
 to sail for the new world of romance and beauty. 
 
 The early spring melted into summer; the 
 trees were festooned with wild vines ; the forest 
 was alive with flowers and birds. It was an 
 ideal day in June, and the whole world seemed 
 glad and happy. Virginia and the lovely prin- 
 cesses, Mataoka and Cleopatra, had gathered 
 their arms full of flowers and berries. Virginia 
 was twining them into garlands, as they sat by 
 a little stream down which a canoe was gliding 
 swiftly. It stopped near them, and Nantiquas, 
 who was paddling, drew it upon the bank and 
 
 157 
 
158 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 sat down near Virginia, listening to her merry 
 chatter with his sisters, till they sprang up to 
 run after a butterfly. 
 
 He had been silent. Then he spoke eagerly, 
 "Owaissa cannot tell what Nantiquas saw when 
 he watched the big sea-water from the great 
 salt oak." 
 
 " What did you see, Nantiquas ? Please tell 
 me," Virginia asked, dropping her flowers with 
 a strangely anxious expression, which made Nan- 
 tiquas feel that she knew, or imagined, what he 
 had to tell her. 
 
 He replied quite indifferently, "As the 
 waves from Witch's reef came to Nantiquas, 
 there came with the waves a great canoe with 
 wings. So close to Nantiquas it came, that 
 the pale-faces shone as they put their irons in 
 the sea. Even as they went down from the big 
 canoe and dropped into a little one, the waves 
 brought another big canoe, as one bird finding a 
 carcass attracts many birds." 
 
 As he finished speaking, the color rose to 
 Virginia's cheeks, then died away, leaving them 
 deadly pale. Her hands were clasped. One 
 moment she raised her eyes, her lips moved. 
 Then she turned to the young Indian with a 
 look that he never forgot, and said, " Nantiquas, 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 159 
 
 in one of those must be my father ; may I go 
 and see them?" 
 
 "Owaissa could never walk so far. Nanti- 
 quas would take her, but the canoe is too 
 small." 
 
 Nantiquas felt sure if her father were among 
 the pale-faces he had seen, he would surely 
 come and take her away, and this thought was 
 not pleasant to him. So he did not mean to 
 help her. But a feeling of jealousy rose in his 
 heart when Virginia said, " Iosco will help me, 
 I must go and find him, and tell him ; I know he 
 will be glad." 
 
 As she sprang up to go away, Nantiquas 
 caught her hand. "Will Owaissa let Nantiquas 
 go for her to the camp of the pale tribe and find 
 her father?" 
 
 " Oh, how good you are ! " she cried, her 
 cheeks glowing, and her eyes sparkling. " But 
 the white men will never know what you want. 
 You cannot talk their language, and they may 
 think you mean them harm." Such a sad, dis- 
 appointed look came into her face that Nan- 
 tiquas, seeing it, would have risked death a 
 hundred times for her. 
 
 He drew himself up proudly, as he answered, 
 " The son of Powhatan is not a fawn. He will 
 
160 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 go. Owaissa will tell him the words, and he 
 shall say them to the white chief in the chief's 
 own tongue." 
 
 " Do you think you could? " she said, looking 
 up wistfully into his face. " Could you say 
 ' White ' ? " 
 
 He repeated it after her, " White." 
 
 " That is it ! " she cried, catching his hand in 
 her delight. " That was my grandfather's name. 
 He was a great man, a chief I think. Now, my 
 father's name was Dare, and something else that 
 was long and hard to say. But Dare will do ; 
 can you say it?" 
 
 "Dare," repeated Nantiquas, still holding the 
 little hand that had been put in his. 
 
 "Now, Nantiquas," she continued, "my real 
 name, the one they would know me by, is not 
 Owaissa. Iosco gave me that name when I was 
 a little girl, because my eyes made him think of 
 the Owaissa. It is my forest name, mamma used 
 to say. But my name with my own people is 
 Virginia ; after the land I was born in, mamma 
 used to say ; but I don't understand how that 
 can be, for I was born on the island of Roanoke. 
 I was too young to think about it, or ask 
 mamma how it was, before she went away. It 
 is a hard word — Virginia, but do you think 
 you can say it, Nantiquas ? " 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 161 
 
 Indians have a superstition that any one 
 knowing the secret of the private name of a 
 maid can work charms and witchery about her. 
 So to Nantiquas it was a solemn, if not a sacred 
 thing to repeat the word Virginia. But he did 
 it quite correctly, and she clasped her hands with 
 joy. " Say it all over once more, please," she 
 urged. And he repeated clearly, " White, Dare, 
 Virginia; does Nantiquas say it as Owaissa 
 does?" 
 
 " Oh, yes," she said enthusiastically. " When 
 will you go, Nantiquas ? " 
 
 " Nantiquas will go even as the canoe waits 
 by the water. Does Owaissa wish it ? " 
 
 "Oh, will you? And come back quickly 
 with my father, won't you ? I won't tell Iosco 
 anything about it, and we'll surprise him when 
 you come." 
 
 Nantiquas pushed the canoe out from among 
 the willows, and stepped in. As Virginia stood 
 watching him, more like a beautiful spirit than 
 ever, he thought, he saw her take up a sharp 
 shell that she had used to cut the flowers that 
 were too stout to break, and drawing her curls 
 over her face, she cut one off with the shell and 
 handed it to him, saying, "If you should for- 
 get the words, Nantiquas, or my father could not 
 
162 VIRGINIA BABE. 
 
 understand, or they would not believe you, you 
 can show them this. They will know it did not 
 come from an Indian maid, and they will be 
 willing to come back with you, I know." 
 
 He took the silky yellow curl almost rever- 
 ently. Catching her hand that had held the 
 curl, he pressed it to his heart, then paddled 
 down the stream into the Youghianund flu, and 
 was soon out of sight. Nantiquas was not the 
 only one who had seen the ships. 
 
 As Virginia went through the forest singing, 
 her heart was very light and happy. She soon 
 met Cleopatra and Mataoka, who put their arms 
 about her. Cleopatra said softly, "Does Owa- 
 issa know that a great canoe is in the flu full of 
 white men, and another one on the water of the 
 Che-sa-peack ? " 
 
 " Yes, dear Cleopatra, I know it, and it must 
 be my father has come for me at last. I can 
 hardly wait for him to come. But he will be 
 here soon, I know." 
 
 "Owaissa will not go and leave us, oh, no, 
 no ! Owaissa will never leave us," and Cleopa- 
 tra threw her arms about Virginia, and laid her 
 head on her breast, her beautiful eyes full of 
 love. 
 • Virginia kissed her brown cheek as she an- 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 163 
 
 swered, "If the great Werowance Powhatan 
 should come for his pretty little Cleopatra, 
 would she not go with him? She would go, 
 but she would not forget her friends that she 
 had left behind, or cease to love them just the 
 same, and send them presents to show her love. 
 What will my dear little Cleopatra have from 
 sunny England?" 
 
 But the little Indian girl only clung closer, 
 saying, " Cleopatra wants only Owaissa, and no 
 present. Her love is in Owaissa's bosom, not 
 in toys." 
 
 The whole camp was in a state of excitement 
 over the strange news of the ships in the river. 
 It was twenty years since Governor White had 
 left Roanoke, and no Englishman had come 
 since their sad fate. When the Governor re- 
 turned to look for his colony, his ships had been 
 in sight a few days from Powhatan's shores. 
 But these present intruders, as many of the 
 Indians called the pale-faces, evidently intended 
 staying, for upon landing they began prepara- 
 tions at once for a camp, so the report ran. 
 
 Virginia listened in breathless silence to an 
 olii Indian who was telling all he had seen of 
 the arrival of the English fleet; for it was, in 
 fact, the colony which had embarked in their 
 
1G4 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 ships on the 19th of December, 1606, from 
 Blackwall, near London, and had been for more 
 than five months on their voyage, commanded 
 by Captain Newport. 
 
 The old Indian sat smoking on his mat, rest- 
 ing after his long hunt, and hasty return to tell 
 the news, which he was now doing for the third 
 or fourth time, to the crowd of excited listeners. 
 The men sat or stood, smoking, the women 
 worked the skins on the ground, while one or 
 two ground mondawmin, or Indian corn, in 
 basins made of hollowed stones. These worked 
 at a little distance, lest their noise might dis- 
 turb their lords and masters, and were content 
 with what fragments they could gather of the 
 story that was being told. 
 
 " The eyes of Ramapo see far on the great sea- 
 water, white wings as of a mighty sea bird. 
 The wings come near, and he sees the pale-faces' 
 canoe. Ramapo goes into the great tree; he 
 sees the white man come to the land. He sees 
 the canoes without wings pulled up. He sees, 
 after the sun passes a bit, the pale-faces all 
 stand under the trees, and one, the medicine- 
 man, talks out of a book. They all kneel, then 
 stand, some do look at the clouds, and some do 
 hide their faces, that even the sun may not see 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 165 
 
 them. Ramapo says, they talk to the Spirit 
 that is in the clouds; and then he comes 
 away " 
 
 "They were talking to God, Ramapo," cried 
 Virginia, her great eyes full of tears, " the Spirit 
 that lives in heaven, but loves and watches 
 over us. It is he that has brought them to 
 find me; I know it is. My father must be one 
 of them. Did you see a man that looked like 
 me, Ramapo?" 
 
 "Ramapo was too far to see the eyes, but 
 surely he saw none with such hair, though 
 many of the pale-faces seem ashamed of their 
 skin, and wear much hair on their chin and 
 cheeks to cover up the whiteness," was the old 
 Indian's reply. 
 
 In their excitement they had not noticed 
 the gathering clouds till the rumbling thunder 
 made them see the storm which was just break- 
 ing over them. The awful stillness that often 
 comes before a tempest seemed suddenly to en- 
 fold the forest. Not even a leaf rustled. The 
 stillness could be felt but not described, and 
 this little group of wild people, always in sym- 
 pathy with the moods of the forest, stood as if 
 listening, when suddenly the chanting or crying 
 of the medicine-men was heard, and in the still- 
 
166 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 ness the strange weird noise sounded clearly 
 and distinctly. "The pale man, the murder 
 man, he will kill, but the mighty Powhatan 
 will lay him low. Away with the white faces 
 out of the land, out of Powhatan's hunting- 
 grounds, out of his sight, out of his sight ! As 
 the rabbit and the deer shall we hunt them, 
 their hair shall we scalp." 
 
 Six of Powhatan's best bowmen came quickly 
 forward, and without a word seized one of the 
 lads who had come from Croatoan with Iosco 
 and the other whites. Tliey came to Virginia, 
 and took her by the arm to lead her away, but 
 Cleopatra sprang up suddenly and forced herself 
 between them, and as she threw her arms around 
 Virginia she cried, " Go away! who said to touch 
 Owaissa? Nantiquas shall punish who comes 
 near her." 
 
 One of the men replied, "Werowance Pow- 
 hatan says, 'Bind every pale-face, and bring 
 each one for the evil of him they call Barnes.' " 
 
 "I am not afraid to go to your father, the 
 Werowance Powhatan," Virginia said calmly. 
 "I will go with you," They led her away, and 
 she found herself before the great chief with 
 Beth, Patience, Gray, and Barnes, and all the 
 other whites who had come from Croatoan. 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 167 
 
 Barnes stood tightly bound, while in front of 
 him lay the body of an Indian whom he had 
 killed. They had disagreed about something ; 
 and Barnes, having just heard about the ships 
 from England, felt he was soon to be released, 
 and ceased to be cautious. In a passion he had 
 knocked the Indian down. As he fell, his head 
 hit a stone, and he died immediately. Barnes 
 had been at once dragged before the chief. 
 
 The storm broke in its fury. The prisoners 
 had been taken to wigwams where they were 
 well guarded. Death had been the sentence for 
 all alike, on the morrow at break of day. Vir- 
 ginia was kneeling, Cleopatra clinging closely 
 to her, wishing for Nantiquas, whom she felt 
 sure could help them. The wind shrieked and 
 roared outside, and the thunder rolled. Where 
 was Iosco? Why did he not come? 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " Every hmnan heart is hnman, 
 That in even savage bosom 
 There are longings, yearnings, strivings, 
 For the good they comprehend not, 
 That the feeble hands and helpless, 
 Groping blindly in the darkness, 
 Touch God's right hand in that darkness. 
 And are lifted up and strengthened." 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 Where was Iosco ? He had followed Owaissa 
 in the afternoon, to tell her the news of the 
 English ships. He went through the forest 
 trail that led to the little stream just in time 
 to see her, Owaissa, holding Nantiquas's hand, 
 and looking eagerly into his face. All the 
 passion of his Indian nature was roused into a 
 hatred and jealousy of Nantiquas. He turned 
 quickly away, before he had been noticed, and 
 walked far into the woods. Was it for this that 
 he had given up his people, his home, his inher- 
 itance ? For a people who cared nothing for 
 him. Strangely enough he found his love for 
 the pale-faces was really founded on his love 
 
 ni 
 
172 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 for one member of the race. He had never 
 dared to hope that Owaissa would love him ; 
 she was a being too beautiful, too pure, for man 
 to woo. Though he would never have thought 
 of asking her to be his wife, he could not see 
 any one else win her love. He felt that he had 
 the first right to her. Had not he been like a 
 brother to her, always? And he knew well 
 that Owaissa had treated him always as a brother. 
 He could kill Nantiquas, and then he would see. 
 But Powhatan would no longer give them shel- 
 ter. What did that matter ? He would have 
 vengeance. Iosco had thrown himself on the 
 ground, and as he lay there, the great stillness 
 and peace of the forest crept into his heart, and 
 he seemed to hear Mrs. Dare's voice saying, 
 " The dear Jesus would rather suffer all than 
 save himself from one pain, that he might 
 teach us the great lesson of forgiveness." " The 
 dear Jesus," the very words brought with them 
 a certain peace and rest. Forgive ! Could he 
 forgive Nantiquas for taking from him what he 
 cared most for ? And yet that holy Jesus for- 
 gave. A crash of thunder seemed to shake the 
 whole forest, and the darkness crept around him, 
 like the darkness which clouded his soul that 
 was groping for light. Could he still live for 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 173 
 
 love ? For life could not be without love. 
 Could he live for the love of that great chief, 
 that holy Jesus ? Did he want his love ? How 
 could he give his service, his life if need be ? 
 Oh, for some one to teach him as Mrs. Dare had 
 done when he was a little child ! 
 
 The storm beat fiercely against him as he rose 
 and forced his way through the tangle of the 
 forest. But a peace he could not describe had 
 crept into his heart. He must be near Owaissa. 
 To-morrow that white father might come and 
 carry her away. He loved her, and would be 
 near her while he might. He was tramping on, 
 crushing everything before him like the strong 
 man Kwasina, when a voice called to him 
 softly. He listened. It said, " Nantiquas, is 
 it you ? " 
 
 He knew the voice. It was Cleopatra's, and 
 it sounded full of trouble. " Is Cleopatra in 
 sorrow ? " he asked, going in the direction of 
 the sound. 
 
 " O Nantiquas," she said, not recognizing the 
 voice, " O Nantiquas, Owaissa is in great trouble. 
 She is to die when the day comes, with all the 
 pale-faces ; for Barnes, the red white man, did 
 take the life of Nanogh, and our father says all 
 the whites shall die." 
 
174 VIRGINIA BABE. 
 
 She knew it was not Nantiqnas's hand that 
 clasped hers, and she drew back half afraid, till 
 she heard Iosco's familiar voice. 
 
 " Owaissa is in trouble, to die ! The great 
 Werowance Powhatan would never take her 
 life, even now as the white man is coming." 
 
 Then Cleopatra told Iosco the whole story ; 
 how, while Ramapo was telling what he had 
 seen of the white men, the medicine-men's chant 
 came to them ; of the dreadful sentence, and 
 how she had only now left Owaissa to watch for 
 Nantiquas, who had gone away in his canoe in 
 the afternoon, and had not come back. " If he 
 would only come back," she said, " I am sure he 
 could do something." 
 
 Iosco said, " Cleopatra must stay no longer, 
 lest her sad tears and the rain be too much, and 
 she die. Could she not speak to the great 
 Werowance, and ask the life of Owaissa ? He 
 must grant what his sweet daughter wishes." 
 Cleopatra stood up, and Iosco led her. But she 
 said sadly, " The great Powhatan is very angry. 
 He would never spare a captive for a child's 
 wish, Iosco." 
 
 Suddenly Iosco loosened and drew off his 
 large, rich wampum belt. "Will Cleopatra 
 take this with her petition ? It is the charmed 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 175 
 
 belt of Manteo, my father. I prize it, but know 
 the mighty Powhatan's eye often rests on it. 
 He will grant the prayer of Cleopatra, if she 
 carries the charmed belt of the far-journeyed 
 Werowance Manteo." 
 
 She took the wampum from Iosco, and having 
 reached her wigwam they parted, she to sleep 
 on her tussan of stretched skins, and Iosco to 
 find the wigwam where Owaissa slept. He 
 would lie, but not sleep, on the wet ground 
 outside. 
 
 The morning dawned, dull and rainy. The 
 loving Cleopatra held the wampum belt and 
 watched for her father to eat his food. Virginia, 
 too, had wakened early. She thought herself 
 deserted by Iosco, and to her surprise that 
 thought brought more pain than the thought of 
 her probable death, which would undoubtedly 
 be a torturing, painful one. She little knew 
 that Iosco had been watching by her all the night, 
 and was even now looking sadly at her through 
 the openings in the logs, of which the wigwam 
 was made. He marvelled how she could kneel 
 so calmly, her sad face more beautiful than any- 
 thing he had ever seen. If Cleopatra were not 
 successful, she would soon be led to death. 
 He would die first, before she should suffer. 
 
176 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 But she should not be disturbed by him in these 
 solemn hours. 
 
 A joyous cry made Virginia look up ; Iosco, 
 too, from his post could see the lithe figure of 
 Cleopatra as she bounded into the wigwam and 
 threw her arms about Virginia, crying, " The 
 beautiful Owaissa shall not die this day ! The 
 good Powhatan says that she shall fly all day 
 and make his little daughter merry ; she shall 
 be merry at his great feast to-day, and before 
 night comes Nantiquas will come. He will save 
 the sweet Owaissa." * 
 
 Viginia rose, still holding the little girl in her 
 arms, and said, " I will try to make my dear 
 Cleopatra happy to-day, even if it be my last 
 one she shall be merry. If Nantiquas does not 
 come, and if he has not the power you think 
 he has, when does Werowance say I shall 
 die?" 
 
 Cleopatra covered her face with her brown 
 hands to hide her tears, but she could not keep 
 back the sobs, as she replied, " Cleopatra's fa- 
 ther, the Werowance Powhatan, says the pretty 
 Owaissa shall fly to-day with his child, and 
 not die until the sun goes down and the moon 
 comes out and the sun shines again, but when 
 it hangs on the great pine, the Owaissa and six 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 177 
 
 of her tribe, who shall live till then, shall die 
 before Powhatan." 
 
 Iosco could see Owaissa comforting the child. 
 He heard her say, " There are other things 
 more cruel than death, Cleopatra, when one's 
 heart dies. But we will love each other to the 
 end, whenever it may be." 
 
 He saw her kiss the child, who clung to her, 
 and heard her say, " We will remember that God 
 knows our trouble. If he will that I should 
 live, he can save me even from a great Wero- 
 wance like Powhatan. And if not, he will help 
 me to be brave." 
 
 Iosco stood quietly with unmoved face, show- 
 ing nothing of the struggle and pain in his 
 heart. 
 
 That day there was a dreadful massacre of 
 nearly all the whites. They were slain before 
 Powhatan and his courtiers. As they were led 
 out, Beth Harvey caught Virginia's arm as she 
 passed the wigwam where Virginia stood, try- 
 ing to say something encouraging to each one 
 as they passed. " Come, oh, come with me, 
 Virginia ! " she cried, " stay with me to the 
 end." It was the old childhood name, and poor 
 Beth's face was so full of agony that Virginia 
 could not have refused her anything, so she 
 
178 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 took her hand and went with her, and stayed 
 with her, and kept her courage up as she had 
 done all through her life. She stood bravely by 
 Beth, never flinching at the dreadful sights. 
 She did not know that Nantiquas and Iosco 
 stood looking at her with wonder and admira- 
 tion, as she held poor Beth's trembling hand, 
 and bent all her energy to keep the little spark 
 of courage bright. 
 
 " Dear Beth, you will be brave. It will only 
 be a moment of pain, and then you will be be- 
 yond all pain, with your mother and with mine. 
 But O Beth, you will know all that we have 
 longed to know about the dear Saviour who 
 died for us. 
 
 • • • • • • • 
 
 All was over. Beth no longer needed human 
 aid. A slight figure, with halo of golden curls, 
 tottered and fell. But before it touched the 
 earth, it was caught and carried away. Under 
 the great pine, Virginia lay motionless, while 
 two Indian princes bent over her, doing all in 
 their power to bring back a sign of life, and a 
 child knelt by, cr^dng. 
 
 Life came back ; the weary brain began slowly 
 to awake. The great blue eyes opened. She 
 tried to smile ; but that awful scene came be- 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 179 
 
 fore her, — Barnes, Gray, Smith, even Beth, 
 all that she had called her people, lying dead 
 about her. She closed her eyes ; but soon she 
 opened them again, and found that she was 
 lying on the low rush tussan in the wigwam. 
 Nantiquas was standing, looking down at her. 
 At first she thought he was her father, and 
 stretched her hand out to him ; he caught it, and 
 knelt down by her. 
 
 "Is it you, Nantiquas ?" she said. "I for- 
 got that you had come back." 
 
 He bent low over her as he said, " Nantiquas 
 is here : the Puk-weedjie hurried him back to 
 save the life of the sweet Owaissa." 
 
 "Save me from what? Oh, I forgot. But 
 how can you save me ? Will Powhatan listen 
 to you, Nantiquas ? " 
 
 She said it half dreamily, as if she didn't care. 
 
 Iosco had been lying close outside, and heard 
 her last words, and Nantiquas's reply, which 
 made him clinch his hands : — 
 
 "Powhatan will not hurt Nantiquas's wife. 
 To save Owaissa, she will be Nantiquas's wife, 
 and love him." 
 
 The voice was clear and decided, that 
 answered : — 
 
 " O Nantiquas, you are so good to want to 
 
180 VIRGINIA DABE. 
 
 save me, but I could not be saved tbat way ; I 
 could never be your wife, Nantiquas. I would 
 do anything else in the world that I could for 
 you." 
 
 After a long silence, Nantiquas replied, 
 " Then Owaissa will sooner die than be the wife 
 of Nantiquas ? He cannot save her." 
 
 " No, Nantiquas," she said firmly and clearly; 
 " no ; I can never be your wife." 
 
 He said not a word, but passed out of the 
 wigwam into the twilight. Cleopatra tried to 
 coax Virginia to eat. Iosco lay concealed at 
 the back of the wigwam, and wondered why 
 Owaissa had refused Nantiquas, till the dark- 
 ness crept up and the moon rose, and the stars 
 came out to keep their mother moon company. 
 The hours slipped by, those last hours, as it 
 seemed, of Owaissa's life. Iosco asked himself 
 over and over again, should he go to her or not ? 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 ,K 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " No answer comes through the ceaseless whirl 
 Of the hurrying ages tossed, 
 And the New World's first little English girl 
 Is still a little girl lost." 
 
 E. H. Nason. 
 
 It was nearly the middle hour, when the 
 darkness is thickest, that a low voice said, at 
 the entrance of the wigwam, " Will Owaissa 
 come ? Be quick, and move like a young fawn, 
 without noise ! " 
 
 It was a very low call for Iosco to hear, but 
 it reached him. In a moment he stood before 
 the wigwam by Nantiquas, who only said, " We 
 shall carry Owaissa, and Iosco must go with 
 her. Will he go?" 
 
 The reply was prompt : — 
 
 " He will go anywhere that Owaissa will be 
 safe ; but where will that be ? " 
 
 " Ask nothing now. Can you carry her ? " 
 
 Iosco lifted Owaissa tenderly, as if she had 
 been a baby, and the three passed into the dark- 
 ness and silence of the forest night. 
 
 183 
 
184 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 Nantiquas led them first behind the wigwam, 
 where there were bushes and undergrowth to 
 hide them. Then he turned into a trail un- 
 known to Iosco. On, on, they went. Not a 
 word was said. Owaissa felt that Iosco was 
 carrying her, and she cared for nothing else. 
 Iosco knew that he had his darling close to his 
 heart, and that she had refused life at the price 
 of being the wife of the bravest prince of the 
 mightiest tribe. 
 
 Suddenly Nantiquas stopped, and said : — 
 
 " Ramapo stands yonder by the fallen willow ; 
 he loves Owaissa, and will let her pass. Iosco 
 shall say he carries Owaissa to the great Wero- 
 wance Eyonols on the Chanock flu. Say that 
 she goes to hide at Ritanoe, in the mines of 
 Mattasin. We meet beyond." 
 
 Iosco went on as Nantiquas said, and met 
 Ramapo, who let him pass. But no sooner had 
 he done it than his loyal heart repented, and he 
 called to Iosco to return. But Iosco only ran 
 on the more quickly. He was wondering what 
 he should do to protect Owaissa, when he heard 
 Nantiquas say, " Turn under the lindens to the 
 right, quickly ! " And he turned just in time 
 to escape an arrow that Ramapo had sent after 
 him. 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 185 
 
 Nantiquas led on in a different direction. 
 The trail was very narrow and rough. Yet 
 Iosco wished they might go on all night, that 
 he might hold his prize so close. 
 
 After walking for several hours, Nantiquas 
 stopped suddenly, and turned, saying, "The 
 river lies just beyond. By it there is a camp, 
 which tears not being seen, for the fire burns. 
 The clever Powhatan has not had time to have 
 his fire burning as bright as a harvest sun, 
 since we started. If they are his men we shall 
 be taken. First, Nantiquas would speak to 
 Owaissa. He did journey to the pale-faces* 
 camp, and lie watching and listening, but no 
 word that Owaissa spoke came to his ears. He 
 did see one like a spirit, so white was his face. 
 He lays his hands together, and puts his knees 
 on the ground, looks up and speaks, and while 
 he does, Nantiquas -seizes and carries him off in 
 the woods. He has not the strength of a kid, 
 but his eyes are like those of a young deer, so 
 brown and soft. Nantiquas says to the pale- 
 face, ' Virginia.' He nods his head and laughs, 
 as if he knows what that is. Then Nantiquas 
 says, ' White,' and he puts his hands to his face 
 and laughs more. Nantiquas says, ' Dare,' and 
 he puts one hand on the other, and looks up as 
 
186 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 if he would say he feared the Indian not. He 
 would understand no more. So Nantiquas 
 leaves him to go back to his camp. While Nanti- 
 quas listened to the white camp men, he heard 
 many speak to one, the chief. But they do not 
 say 'White,' they say 'New-port.' One other 
 is 'Smi-th,' and many more such. But none 
 with the words of Owaissa." 
 
 Owaissa stood by Nantiquas while he spoke. 
 She laid her hand on his arm as she said, 
 " Then they have forgotten me, my own people. 
 But you, Nantiquas, you have been so kind, so 
 very good to me. I shall always love you as I 
 would have loved my brother. I will pray for 
 you always." 
 
 "Is it the prayer that makes Owaissa so 
 brave ? " he asked very gently. 
 
 "Yes, Nantiquas," she replied. "It is the 
 Great Spirit who makes us able to meet death. 
 Some day you will know all about him. I am 
 sure you will." 
 
 Nantiquas took Virginia's little hand and 
 pressed it one moment. Then they stepped 
 forward cautiously toward the river and the 
 light. So softly did they move, they would 
 surely not have been heard or discovered but 
 for Virginia, who, as she came nearer the fire, 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 187 
 
 gave a great cry, and sprang forward. Two 
 figures were lying by the fire on the ground, 
 and one was a white man. 
 
 It was an English voice that replied to Vir- 
 ginia's cry, " Who comes this way ? " 
 
 Virginia had sprung from her two companions, 
 and was standing in the firelight before they 
 could stop her. She spoke in her own tongue. 
 They could not tell what she said, but they saw 
 the two figures, who seemed to be alone by the 
 camp fire, draw close to her. 
 
 " Ranteo ! " exclaimed Iosco. '' It is old Ran- 
 teo ! " and he went forward. 
 
 When the old Indian saw Iosco, he caught his 
 hand, ciying, " The people of Manteo do groan 
 for Iosco. They offer sacrifices every day for 
 his return. But he comes not. Old Ranteo 
 comes far to find him and fetch him back. The 
 brave Christian Werowance, Iosco ! " 
 
 It was Owaissa who answered, turning from 
 the stranger with whom she had been earnestly 
 talking, " Do they really want Iosco back at 
 Croatoan? I knew they would, some day. I 
 am so glad, dear Iosco." 
 
 Nantiquas and the stranger to whom Virginia 
 had been speaking looked at each other in sur- 
 prise for a moment, then they began talking by 
 
188 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 signs. Nantiquas turned to the others, and 
 laughed as he said, '' The poor pale-face could 
 not get to his camp. He was but an arrow's 
 fling from it." 
 
 Ranteo laughed too, as he answered, " The 
 poor nemarough wandered like a lost deer back 
 and forth, and was full of fear. He would speak 
 with me, but he could not, and for the great 
 Werowance Manteo's love, who did good to all 
 such. Ranted gave the stranger half his fire and 
 half his food, and would bring him to Iosco." 
 
 Nantiquas interrupted, " The Owaissa is not 
 safe on Powhatan's land. The bo}^s and men 
 wait yonder. You must go on. You must go 
 to Croatoan. Is it not so, Iosco ? " 
 
 " But how about the Werowance at Ritanoe ? 
 Must we not go there, Nantiquas?" Virginia 
 asked. 
 
 Nantiquas laughed. " Owaissa would not have 
 come by this trail had she been journeying to 
 Ritanoe. Pov/ha tan's braves have that trail to- 
 night. Owaissa was on her way to her own 
 people, to the camp of the pale-faces, but it is 
 safer for her on the way to Croatoan. There 
 she can join her people without danger from 
 Powhatan." 
 
 A slight noise in the darkness startled them. 
 
VIRGINIA BABE. 189 
 
 Iosco drew a deerskin over the fire and stepped 
 on it till the light was gone. Nantiquas led the 
 way, and they followed ; they had gone only a 
 short distance when they came to the men and 
 boys, all that was left of the Roanoke colony, 
 seven souls. Two small skiffs were waiting, a 
 moment more and all was ready. 
 
 Owaissa clasped Nantiquas's hand. " You have 
 been very good, dear Nantiquas. You will come 
 to us some day, won't you ? " Her voice fal- 
 tered, and she sobbed as she had not done in all 
 the scenes of pain or danger. " He has been so 
 good; he has saved us all," she said, turning to 
 the Englishman, who, raising his hand, gave his 
 blessing to the young Indian prince. 
 
 One more grasp of Owaissa's hand, then the 
 skiffs were moving down the Youghianund flu, 
 leaving Nantiquas alone on the shore. The first 
 rays of the sun glistened on the waving hair in 
 the boat, and on a little silky curl in the Indiau's 
 brown hand, as he caressed it tenderly. The 
 mists cleared away, and a faint gleam of color 
 tinged the sky like the reflection of a rainbow. 
 He saw it, and muttered to himself, as the skiffs 
 passed out of sight, " Nantiquas will never tell 
 your secret to the whites, Iosco, lest they carry 
 her off from you." And then looking towards 
 
190 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 the bright bow of color, he added, " True, there 
 are many flowers do die on earth." 
 
 Powhatan had condemned all the whites to die 
 because he was afraid they might tell the se- 
 crets of his people to the white tribe who had 
 now settled near his own lands. If they knew 
 all, they would be dangerous enemies. So Nan- 
 tiquas had sent word to Iosco not to let any of 
 the whites attempt to go to Jamestown, for 
 there were spies watching for them all the way, 
 with orders to capture them. A reward was 
 offered for every white scalp from Croatoan 
 or Ritanoe, or wherever the seven whites had 
 escaped to. 
 
 The old places were slowly coming nearer 
 and nearer, and the great throb of happiness 
 that leaps into one's heart as he is coming home, 
 filled Virginia's heart with thankfulness and 
 love. 
 
 " O Iosco, I am so glad I did not go right to 
 my own people ; I would never have seen Croa- 
 toan again. I am sure there is not another 
 place in the whole world so beautiful. I love it, 
 every spot of its ground. Are you glad we are 
 all to be together again for a while ? " 
 
 " Iosco is glad, oh, yes, very glad. Did Owa- 
 issa's father come in the big canoes ? What tid- 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 191 
 
 ings brings the white man of her people ? " he 
 asked very earnestly. 
 
 Virginia was standing in the end of the skiff, 
 that she might catch the first glimpse of the 
 dear familiar place. She put her hand on Iosco's 
 shoulder to steady herself, and looking sadly 
 down into his dark eyes, she said, " O Iosco, 
 do you know I have almost forgotten my peo- 
 ple's language : many things the white man ssljs 
 to me I cannot understand. But this I do know; 
 he says my grandfather and my father came 
 with the big canoes to find us, long, long ago, 
 and they found only the empty place at Roa- 
 noke and the word ' Croatoan ; ' but when they 
 would find Croatoan, the storm caught up their 
 canoes and carried them away. Even now this 
 Chief Newport is speaking for us, and will be 
 glad when he knows what you have done, and 
 will give you many things." 
 
 " Will the pale-face take Owaissa to her peo- 
 ple soon ? " Iosco asked. 
 
 " Whenever you send some one with us. We 
 could not go alone ; but do not let us hurry. 
 Let us see you back at the old place, and this 
 white face can teach your people and all of us 
 about the Great Spirit, the dear Jesus. Mis- 
 tress Wilkins said this land needed such as he is 
 
192 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 to hallow it — a priest." Virginia said the last 
 word reverently. 
 
 " The-pale face is good. The light of the 
 Great Spirit is in his eyes. He shall stay as long 
 as he will, and teach the people as Manteo 
 would have wished ; and surely Owaissa will 
 never hurry from the people who love her," 
 Iosco replied. 
 
 " Do you know, Iosco," she said with a wist- 
 ful look, " do you know I almost dread going to 
 my people now. If I have forgotten even their 
 language, which I once knew so well, how much 
 less shall I know their ways and lives, which I 
 have never learned; they will not understand 
 me and my ways, they v/ill laugh at me. Your 
 people are really my people, for I know and 
 love them." 
 
 As Iosco sprang from the little boat, upon his 
 own land, he thought he had never felt so happy 
 before ; and when he turned and helped the 
 Englishman on the shore, giving him a welcome 
 after the manner of his people, Virginia won- 
 dered if the coming back had brought such joy 
 into his face ; she had not seen the pain that the 
 leaving of it must have caused. 
 
 The priest bared his head, and raising his 
 hand blessed the land and the people ; then the 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 193 
 
 little company moved up the hill. There were 
 the great fields of tobacco with their long leaves 
 shining in the sunlight; and there were the 
 fields of corn where the women must have lately 
 been working, but now there was not a sign of 
 woman or child. Virginia was anxious to see 
 the people ; and she hurried on before the others, 
 and ran swiftly over the grass, which was dotted 
 with daisies. She soon reached the council 
 house, which was like a great arbor, and hearing 
 voices she stopped and looked in. 
 
 It was, indeed, a weird, almost unearthly sight 
 that met her gaze. In the centre a great fire 
 burned; around it on the ground a circle was 
 formed of grains of corn; outside of this a 
 larger circle formed of meal. Six men, painted 
 red and black, with white circles painted about 
 their eyes, followed ; another, painted like them- 
 selves, only a little more gaudily, wore on his 
 head a sort of crescent made of weasel-skins 
 stuffed with dried moss, the tails tied together 
 at the top with a knot of bright feathers, while 
 the skins fell about his face and neck; a great 
 green snake was coiled around his throat, the 
 tail flapping about on his back. The crea- 
 ture, who was in fact the cliief medicine-man, 
 was a frightful object, as he danced before the 
 
194 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 fire uttering unearthly yells. The people had 
 assembled in the arbor, bringing with them 
 offerings of every imaginable description for 
 sacrifice. 
 
 The purpose of this worship was to entreat 
 the Great Spirit to send Iosco back : they did 
 not know how to offer the Christian sacrifice, 
 yet they felt that their prayers must be accom- 
 panied by some proof of their earnestness ; so 
 they used the old form of heathen worship, the 
 only thing they had known till Manteo went to 
 England and came back a Christian ; but even 
 then there had been no one to teach them its 
 blessed worship. From Manteo and Mrs. Dare 
 they had only gained a glimmering of its first 
 principles, which they, poor heathen people as 
 they were, had eagerly grasped. The people 
 inside were so intent on their worship that they 
 did not notice Virginia, as she stood in the vine- 
 covered doorway, or the others who soon joined 
 her. 
 
 To Martin Atherton, the English priest, as 
 he gazed in at the wild, weird scene, it seemed 
 like the very entrance of hell, and that hideous 
 figure, the chief medicine-man, looked not un- 
 like the evil one himself, as he danced and 
 yelled, followed closely by the others. Then 
 
VIRGINIA BARE. 195 
 
 all the people sent forth a groau, and the chief 
 medicine-man threw many of the offerings the 
 people had brought into the fire, which caused 
 a great crackling and spluttering. The groans 
 of the people rose dolefully, and the wild yell 
 of the medicine-man completed the frightful 
 scene. 
 
 When Iosco passed from the little group out- 
 side, and stood in the firelight before his people, 
 they thought he had come out of the fire, and 
 waited one moment to see if he would vanish 
 into it again. As he did not, they pressed their 
 hands to their hearts and yelled for joy, till the 
 very rocks seemed to tremble. 
 
 At a sign from Iosco his people were silent. 
 He spoke to them of his father, and of his 
 Christian faith; of the whites, and how Powha- 
 tan had killed most of them ; of the canoes now 
 in the river; of how he had heard they had 
 wanted him, and he had come. Now did they 
 wish him to remain ? With a great cry they 
 called him their chief, while the medicine-men 
 strewed corn before him, as a sign that all 
 should be his, and poor old Adwa, the squaw 
 who had nursed him, ran to the fire, and would 
 have thrown herself in as a thank-offering had 
 not Iosco caught her and pointed to Virginia, 
 
196 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 who still stood in the doorway. She ran to her, 
 and held the head of soft wavy hair to her 
 breast as tenderly as any mother would have 
 done. 
 
 Martin Atherton looked on in amazement, 
 at the squaws gathered about Virginia, and 
 showed how tenderly they loved her. He could 
 see that she loved them, and for each she seemed 
 to have a few kind words. The children seemed 
 to rain down, more than a dozen having gath- 
 ered around her in a minute. As he watched 
 her caress them lovingly, and saw her pick up 
 one brown little boy, who was scarcely more 
 than a papoose, and hold him close to her heart, 
 he wondered if she could ever be happy in a 
 conventional English life, and what the draw- 
 ing-room would say and think of this forest 
 maiden. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 " Life has two ecstatic moments, one when the spirit catches 
 sight of truth, the other when it recognizes a kindred spirit. 
 Perhaps it is only in the land of truth that spirits can discern 
 each other ; as it is when they are helping each other on that 
 they may best hope to arrive there. " — Edna Lyall. 
 
 It was the first of the Indian seasons, " the 
 fall of the leaf." Croatoan was glorious with 
 its colored leaves and late flowers. Weeks had 
 slipped by since the escape from Werowocomoca. 
 Iosco had been welcomed by his people ; so had 
 Owaissa. The other whites, the best of the col- 
 onists who had gone to Powhatan, and thor- 
 oughly frightened by all that had happened 
 there, were looked upon with suspicion for a 
 long time. But the new-comer, the pale Eng- 
 lishman, made friends with all. He was only 
 waiting for an opportunity to return to James- 
 town. He was a priest of the church, who had 
 worn himself out with work among the miners 
 in England. He was broken in health, and the 
 
 199 
 
200 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 doctor in London had ordered a sea-voyage. 
 Just as the colony were starting from Blackwall, 
 Captain Newport persuaded him to go with them, 
 promising to bring him back to his work as soon 
 as he was strong again. So he had gone ; but 
 the name of Martin Atherton was not added to 
 the list, though he went across to the New 
 World. Perhaps he was sent in answer to the 
 prayers of a maiden. 
 
 Through the long months that passed, as the 
 summer slipped away and the autumn took its 
 place, the prayers of Mrs. Dare, yirginia, and 
 those few faithful souls, were answered. The 
 poor Indians, who had had glimmerings of a 
 liigher life, through Manteo, their dearly loved 
 chief, now listened eagerly to the message of 
 the church, as Martin Atherton told it in a sim- 
 ple, direct way, while they sat in a circle on the 
 ground about him, sometimes with great rever- 
 ence kissing the sacred Book from which the 
 holy teachings came. 
 
 Twice a day the sound of prayer and praise 
 went up from the little congregation. Virginia 
 had taught him the language of the people. He 
 told her that the father she so much yearned for 
 had not come, and he taught her about the dear 
 Lord and his church. 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 201 
 
 Poor Iosco was in trouble again. He had 
 never spoken of his love to Virginia, and she 
 did all in her power to conceal her love from 
 him. Of course he did not dream of such a pos- 
 sibility as her caring for him. But he watched 
 day by day, and counted every moment she spent 
 with Martin Atherton. Soon he would go to 
 the white people, and then he supposed Owaissa 
 would go too. -;/' 
 
 All Saints' Day dawned clear and bright. It 
 was to be a great day at Croatoan, but how 
 eventful none of them knew. It was time for 
 the great service to begin. Virginia's face was 
 radiant with happiness, her fair hair falling 
 loosely over her mantle of turkey feathers. 
 
 " She might be the Queen of Sheba," thought 
 Martin Atherton, as he came a little way behind 
 her. " Her dignity and simplicity are perfect. 
 Surely no one could doubt the grace of baptism 
 who knows a soul like that, with its desire for 
 knowledge growing stronger among heathen sur- 
 roundings ; a life of praise and worship, though 
 she does not know it. It was she that converted 
 these heathen, not I." 
 
 He watched her as she knelt, then kneeling 
 himself, his heart rose in earnest thanksgiving 
 for what he had been permitted to do, and a 
 
202 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 prayer that his little Indian congregation might 
 ever be guided aright. 
 
 The two figures were kneeling when Iosco 
 joined them, followed by a number of his war- 
 riors, among them Ranteo, his honest face fairly 
 glowing with happiness. He thought of the day 
 when Manteo had been baptized in the little 
 chapel at Roanoke. Only then he had held an 
 ignorant reverence for the holy mystery that he 
 was now to receive himself, with a clear knowl- 
 edge of its grace and power. 
 
 The simple service began, the dear prayers 
 that we all know and love, a simple hymn, and 
 then the holy baptismal service. First Iosco 
 knelt, and then a long line of Indians, all kneel- 
 ing in turn reverently before the priest, were 
 baptized from a little spring that trickled through 
 mossy rocks. 
 
 It was a strange scene. The chapel formed 
 of a little clearing in the forest, its walls the 
 forest trees, its roof the arching branches, its 
 spire a tall poplar-tree reaching towards heaven, 
 its altar a rough rock. The open book from 
 which the prayers were read lay on the stump of 
 a tree : the birds joined in the hymns of praise, 
 and the deep sigh of the wind in the forest was 
 the organ. 
 
VIRGINIA DARE. 203 
 
 The holy sign had been made on each brow, 
 and they were henceforth no longer heathen, but 
 soldiers of the great King. Martin Atherton stood 
 before his little congregation and spoke to them. 
 He did not preach on systematic theology, or 
 discuss the question whether St. Paul's garment 
 was his cloak or a vestment ; he spoke as a great 
 soul bringing a great message. He tried to show 
 his hearers the power of the gospel in the past 
 and in the present. He told it simply, but with 
 an eloquence that held every one. His clear 
 voice rang through the forest, with the last 
 words, " Then shall the righteous shine forth 
 as the sun in the kingdom of their Father." A 
 great silence crept over the little congregation 
 as the preacher raised his hand for the invoca- 
 tion, but not a sound came. He raised his eyes, 
 and fell backwards without a word. He lay 
 motionless by the rude altar. Loving hands 
 raised his head and laid it on Virginia's knee. 
 For a moment the people gathered silently 
 around the unconscious form, then drew away, 
 that they might not keep the reviving air from 
 him, allowing Virginia and Iosco to do what 
 they could, only following their directions. At 
 last the dark eyes opened and saw Virginia's 
 beautiful face filled with sorrow and anxiety. 
 
204 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 " Dear child," he said, as he had often spoken 
 before, "please raise my head a little more. 
 This may pass, and I may be better soon ; don't 
 be anxious. If not " — he only smiled and did 
 not finish. 
 
 " Oh, you must not die ! " Virginia cried ; "we 
 need you ; so does God's work in this sad world." 
 
 " God does not need us, dear child : it is we 
 that need him. You will always be true and 
 faithful to your holy vows, and when the day 
 comes for you to go to England and to your 
 people, you will have teachers sent to these 
 people who are yours by adoption." 
 
 Somehow the thought of going to England 
 added to Virginia's pain at that moment, and 
 she drew closer to Iosco as the speaker fell into 
 a state of unconsciousness. Looking up into 
 Iosco's face, she read something new that she 
 had never seen there before. He had lono-ed 
 for the Christian faith ; he had wished for his 
 baptism ; he had believed all that Martin Ather- 
 ton had taught. The service that morning 
 had changed him. Those blessed drops "had 
 worked wonder there, earth's chambers never 
 knew." The right of a new birth, the perfect 
 faith of the man before him, had given Iosco 
 something he could not explain, but he knew 
 
VIRGINIA DAEE. 205 
 
 and felt that the dear Lord was very near, and 
 the knowledge of that perfect love filling his 
 heart, his whole life, brought a peace which the 
 world could never take away. It made him 
 worthy of human love, and yet it made him feel 
 it was quite possible to live without it. When 
 we can say truthfully in our hearts, " Thy will 
 be done," God sends us often so great a bless- 
 ing that it almost frightens us as we receive it. 
 
 The little congregation had moved away. 
 Hours slipped by. Only Virginia and Iosco 
 watched by their friend, who still lay as if dead, 
 with only the slight, uneven fluttering of his 
 heart to show that there was yet life in the worn- 
 out body. 
 
 Virginia looked up at Iosco, and speaking 
 softly, said, '* If he really gets better, you ought 
 to send him to his people, that he may see them 
 before he dies." 
 
 " The blessed priest shall be carried before 
 the sunrise and laid among his people if he 
 lives. Iosco's warriors shall keep him from harm 
 by Powhatan. The Owaissa can then go with- 
 out fear to her people, and be happy," he replied. 
 
 " To-morrow, Iosco ? So soon ? Iosco " — 
 Virginia faltered. Looking down suddenly into 
 her upturned face he read her great love. The 
 
206 VIRGINIA DARE. 
 
 two looked into each other's eyes long and ear- 
 nestly, and each read the other's heart. Iosco 
 knelt, putting his arm around her, and whis- 
 pered, " Owaissa, my Owaissa ! " He kissed 
 her forehead again and again ; and she laid her 
 head on his breast and clung to him as she said, 
 "I will never, never go, Iosco. Your people 
 shall be my people. We shall be all to each 
 other now." 
 
 "My Owaissa will be all to Iosco forever." 
 / When one soul which truly loves looks deep'^ 
 • into another and reads there the answering love ' 
 he has longed for, he knows what a great treas- 
 ure he has better than any one could tell him ; 
 and to both souls comes the sense that they are 
 no longer separate beings, but one in each 
 other. A golden light has spread over the 
 world, which, thank God, nothing earthly has 
 the power to destroy. 
 
 Two dark eyes had opened and were watching 
 them. Iosco was the first to notice that their 
 friend had roused; and, bending over him, he 
 asked if he wished to be taken to his own 
 people. The holy priest said with a gentle 
 smile, " There will not be time ; I shall die 
 among these people ; they are dear to me." 
 
 At his suggestion, the people were summoned. 
 

 y / ^vih^NIAaDARE. ^ ^ 207 
 
 He was raised and supported, and performed the 
 last act of ministry on earth. 
 
 A Christian wedding was a strange sight to 
 these poor people. It was over; Owaissa and 
 Iosco sat together, and watched by their friend 
 till the sun set, when his soul passed in the glory 
 of the golden sky to the perfect glory and 
 brightness of the people of God. 
 
 The story of the life of the first American 
 child has never been recorded in history ; but 
 that life, we know, was not wasted. 
 
 Who can tell what a pure, brave life may do ? 
 Lived in humble station in this nineteenth cen- 
 tury, or in the wild forest three hundred years 
 ago, as was Virginia Dare's ! 
 
 ^^'^ 
 
 
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