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 business. 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-children, and as soon as they look at themselves for 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 saying, “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 frightened 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?”