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 darkness and silence of the forest night.
Nantiquas led them first behind the wigwam, where there were bushes and undergrowth to hide them. Then he turned into a trail unknown 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 Werowance 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.
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 fears 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 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 Nantiquas 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.”