The other laughed.
"How can that be, when the warriors of Powhatan are like the leaves on the trees, and they are eager to do his will? There is but a handful of the pale-faces; surely we have nothing to fear from them; Nantaquas, let us visit the big canoes."
The proposal struck the youth so favorably that he increased the speed of his craft, and, as has already been shown, drew rapidly near the Sarah Constant, whose passengers and crew watched the approach of the graceful birchen structure with keen curiosity. As Nantaquas sped down stream, however, he was thinking hard, and he began to ask himself questions, which showed a doubt of the wisdom of carrying out the wishes of his sister. He believed that any people who were treated kindly, and in whom confidence was shown, would give the same treatment to those that were good to them. She would not have feared to climb the side of the big canoe and welcome the white men. She knew they had much greater knowledge than her own people; and, though she and her brother had no food or presents to offer the visitors, they could show their friendship towards them.
But Nantaquas was wise beyond his years. He recalled that the stories which he had heard of the white men were not to their credit. Some of them had slain Indians as though they were wild animals; they had treated them with great cruelty, and repaid kindness with brutality. The reason that such reports came to Nantaquas was that they were brought by visitors from the south, where the Spanish had made settlements. The story of their colonization of the United States and Mexico was stained by many dreadful crimes, which might well make the youth hesitate to trust himself or his sister in their power. They were likely, he thought, to carry one or both off as prisoners or demand a large price for their ransom. So it was, that as Nantaquas drew near the Sarah Constant, he gradually slackened his speed, until he finally held his paddle motionless, and allowed the canoe to come to rest with much space still between the two crafts.
By this time everyone on the three vessels was intently watching the little canoe and its occupants. Sails were still hoisted, and the vessels kept moving slowly up stream, the tide being at its turn. On either shore were gathered staring groups of Indians, men, women, and even children, whose emotions were as stirring as those of the white men on the larger craft. The face of the pretty young girl in the canoe glowed, for never had she gazed upon so wonderful a picture. Scores of men in their peaked hats, several of which were adorned with flowing plumes, their short coats clasped about the waist with broad girdles, with a huge buckle in front, the short breeches ending at the knees, with the heavy stockings below, and, more than all, the tanned countenances, some of which were covered with shaggy beards, made up a picture that might well hold the two wondering spectators almost breathless.
Nantaquas checked his boat when a hundred yards from the largest vessel. Inasmuch as that kept moving, he dallied with his paddle just enough to hold his graceful craft abreast. Captain John Smith, the famous navigator, Bartholomew Gosnold, Wingfield, Newport, Ratcliffe, Martin and Kendall-all of whom had been named as Councillors by King James-were at the rail of the Sarah Constant, looking off and down at the visitors, who, although they had come so close, hesitated to draw nearer to the vessel.
Captain Smith called in his bass, resonant welcome:
"Welcome! Welcome! Will you not come that we may shake hands with you and break bread together?"
Of course, not a word of this was understood by Nantaquas and his sister, but the beckoning gestures of more than one man formed a language whose meaning was plain. The girl asked her brother impatiently:
"Why do you hesitate? They wish to greet us; you are ungrateful."