"Why, therefore," asked the fairest complexioned of them all, she who was the squaw of the Bear and the mother of his child, "should we go back to those we know not of, even though they be still alive? Will your faith, which preaches that a woman shall leave all to cleave unto her husband, ask me to leave mine and my child and go back to I know not what?"
"In truth," I heard one old colonist whisper to O'Rourke, who stood by his side, "there would be none for her to go back to. I do think she is the child of Martin Peake, who was stolen when a babe, and, if so, her father has been long since dead. Her mother lived until a year ago hoping ever that she might return, looking up the lane that led to the woods with wistful eyes, as though she might perhaps see her coming back at last; even keeping her little room ready against her coming. Yet it was never to be, and she died with her longing ungratified," and the man dashed his rough hand across his eyes as he spoke, while I saw that those of the old adventurer also filled with tears as he listened. Then he said softly: "I can understand. I once had a daughter whom I loved dearly and--and she is dead and gone from me. Yet better so, far better than to be like this."
Therefore it was not to be! They refused to come with us, and set the love for their savage mates against all entreaties on our part. Nor could we find it in our hearts to blame them. We remembered other marriages that had taken place in earlier days between red and white; we recalled the union of John Rolfe with the Princess Pocahontas, as well as many more, and we knew that most of them had been happy. What could we do but cease to plead and go in peace?
Thus we set out again on our road to Pomfret, and, although some of the party were going back to ruined homes, I think that even so they were content. For, in so rich and wooded a land as this fertile Virginia, houses might soon be repaired and made whole again, crops easily brought to bear once more, and cattle replaced. And, against any loss that had been incurred, there was always the great set-off of peace with the Indians and security. All knew in that band--for well were they acquainted with their foes of old--that, during at least the present generation, the tribes would keep their word; if they made war again it would not be during our time. The Indian had not yet learned the art of lying--he was still uncivilised!
These did endeavour to offer some reparation for the wrong they had done the colony; they brought forth skins and furs, ornaments such as they deemed might prove acceptable, weapons, and, in some few instances, trinkets, gold, and precious stones--got we knew not whence--which they piled on the ground and bade us take, saying they had no more. But no man took aught from them, and so, after Kinchella had offered up a prayer of thanksgiving for our release and another that, if not now, at least at some future date, these poor heathens might be gathered into the true fold, we set forth. And never more did one of our party lay eyes upon any of those tribes again. As they had vowed, so the vow was kept.
As we rode on we could not but wonder what would be the fate of my wretched cousin, the author of all the woe that had recently befallen the, until now, happy little settlement.
"That they will find him and slay him," said Gregory, who knew much of their ways, "is certain. It is impossible he should escape or they forgive. Well, vile as he is, God help him!"
"Amen," said Joice, as she rode by my side. "Amen."
"Perhaps," said the old hunter, who had recognised Anuza's squaw, "he may strike the southern trail and make for the Seminoles; they hate all the Alleghany tribes like poison. If he could get them to listen to him, and promised to lead them up to their encampment, he might yet join on to them."
"Never," said Mr. Byrd. "He would have to join in the fight not shirk from it in the garb of a medicine chief. Amongst the Red Sticks[[6]] every man fights, and fighting is not his cue."