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 Owaissa 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 Cleopatra 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 answered, “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 returned 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 preparations at once for a camp, so the report ran.
Virginia listened in breathless silence to an old 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 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, resting 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 disturb 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 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?”