Campfire Girls' Lake Camp; or, Searching for New Adventures

by Irene Elliott Benson; Stella M. Francis

When the Captain stood erect, his face flushed with embarrassment. Not knowing what to do, he did nothing, but stood with his eyes on the ground. Pocahontas fluttered about him like a bird. She tried to untie the knots that bound his wrists behind his back, and though she would have succeeded in a few minutes, she was impatient. She beckoned to her brother Nantaquas, who came hastily forward and cut the thongs with his knife. He turned inquiringly to Powhatan, who motioned for his son to take the man away. Clasping the hand of the prisoner in his own, the youth led him through the door to the outside of the wigwam. Pocahontas did not follow, but did another thing that astonished the group gathered round. Forgetful of all kingly dignity in the stress of her feelings, she bounded to the throne, flung her arms about the neck of her parent, and laying her head on the gaunt shoulder, sobbed with thankfulness, murmuring words which only Powhatan could hear.

And for the moment he forgot that he was King. He stroked the masses of black hair until she regained command of herself, when he told her in a low voice that he had spared the prisoner because he could deny nothing to the one who asked it. She faced about with glowing countenance, on which the tears still shone, and moved back to the place she had held before doing the noble act.

Meanwhile Nantaquas guided Captain Smith to his own lodge, which stood at the eastern end of the village. It was small, for only he dwelt there. It was hardly a dozen feet in length, and no more than two-thirds of that in width, but a fire was smouldering at the farther end, the skins of animals were spread on the ground, and his favorite bow leaned in one corner. On the ridge pole of the wigwam were hung the furs of bears, deer, and wolf. Primitive as was the dwelling, it was as comfortable as it could be.

Captain Smith was not a "gushing" man. In this respect he was like Nantaquas. The Indian youth had learned the white men's custom of greeting one another by shaking hands. When the Captain, therefore, offered his hand to his friend, it was grasped by him.

"I shall always be thankful to you, Nantaquas."

"Your thanks belong to my sister," was the gentle reply.

"I know that, and she will ever dwell in my heart. Does this mean that my life is spared for a short time only?"

"I will learn; wait till I come back."

Lifting the flap of the lodge, the dusky youth slipped outside. Captain Smith sat down on one of the furs spread on the floor, and gave himself over to thinking of the strange things that had come to him in the past. He was sitting thus, sunk in meditation, when his friend returned.

Nantaquas had talked with Powhatan, who told him that Smith was to stay among the Indians, and give his time to the making of moccasins, bows and arrows, robes and pots, and especially to the manufacture of beads, bells, and copper trinkets for Pocahontas. The Captain accepted the proposal with great pleasure, for he knew that the end, sooner or later, would be his return to Jamestown. What a contrast between the many stormy scenes he had passed through and this quiet toiling in the depths of the American woods! He took up the task with the same energy he put in everything, and pleased Nantaquas; who showed a real friendship for him. Powhatan was also well satisfied, and Pocahontas, who often came to the little workshop and watched the sturdy Captain at labor, was delighted. She would sometimes sit for a long time on a mat in front of him, noting with childish interest the movements of the sturdy fingers that were more used to handling the sword than to fashioning the delicate ornaments and trinkets. She could not restrain her happiness as the articles gradually took form. When the Captain completed a pair of moccasins that were as dainty as the slippers of Cinderella, she slipped them on her feet, clapped her hands, and danced about the wigwam, just as any little English or American girl would have done. Nantaquas and Captain Smith smiled at the pretty picture, and the brave and good Captain felt well rewarded for his trouble. Indeed, could he ever repay this sweet daughter of the forest for what she had done for him? He often asked himself the question, and the answer was always a soft but earnest "No!"