"At least we will attempt it. Next, we call upon you all here assembled to make vows, the most solemn to which you can pledge yourselves, that never again shall you make war upon the white man, or his houses or property, nor attempt aught against him until he first attacks you, and that none of your tribes shall come within a day's ride of our lands either by stealth or openly."
"Children of these our tribes," exclaimed Anuza, "you hear this demand. Will you agree to it so that evermore there shall be unbroken peace between them and us? Answer."
To this there were many who cried out that they would agree to it, while one, an older man than Anuza, coming forward, said:
"A peace is no peace unless it binds both alike who agree to it. Will the pale faces agree also that, if we advance not into the lands they have possessed themselves of, they will come no further into ours? Will they do this?"
All of our side said they would promise this, while they recalled to the Indians that 'twas more than fifty summers and winters since they had made any encroachments on the Indians' territories, or taken one rood of land from them except by barter at a price agreed upon. And so at last the compact was made--the peace (which hath ever since that day, so far as my knowledge serves, been kept in His Majesty's loyal colony of Virginia) was entered into. It was ratified by the white men calling upon heaven to witness their agreement to it, and by the Indians swearing upon their wounds and scars, and calling upon their gods to inflict most dreadful vengeance on them, and their children afterwards, if they failed in their part. And also was it sealed by the passing round of a pipe of peace, at which all smoked silently for a few moments. But still one other promise was extorted from them--the promise that the sacred symbol of our faith, the Cross, should be taken down and nevermore used for the horrid rites to which hitherto it had been put. This we saw done ere we left them.
Now, as we sat smoking gravely with those who had so lately been our bitter foes, there came in the Indians who had been sent to find the villain Roderick, who reported that nowhere could any traces of him be discovered. He had vanished as mysteriously as he had come--all trace and trail of him was lost.
And what disturbed these grave savages almost as much--nay, I think, more, was that Lamimi, the daughter of Owalee, who had been Roderick's squaw and had loved him once, was gone too. And white and red man both asked themselves the same question--had that love awakened once more in her bosom and forced her to fly with him; or--dreadful thought!--had he in some way been able to wreak his vengeance on her for having told the story of his imposture to her own people?
We were soon to know.