Forth from the trees on the brow came a group of twelve maidens whirling and bending in a sinuous circle around a young goddess in their midst. Raising their arms aloft they showered her with great white daisies inset with hearts of gold, then bending their knees in homage, uplifted their voices in plaintive chant, while she in turn bent her body in graceful salute. On went the whirling dance and battle of flowers, in and out among the sycamores, until they reached the foot of the hill.
Then, catching sight of the stranger guests, the maidens paused with uplifted arms as if stiffened into stone. Opechancanough went toward them and informed them of the coming of the pale faces in their absence.
Quickly the links of the chain fell apart and ranged themselves behind the maiden who had been in the center. Like a young aspen against a background of autumn-tinted foliage stood Pocahontas, daughter of Powhatan and Virginia Dare. All of the girlish abandon with which she had whirled down the hill had vanished. In its place was the royal bearing of the queen.
Clouds of blue-black hair swept down her back, bound about the temples with a rope of pearl, which reached to her waist. A short skirt of soft doeskin fringed with the quills of the fretful porcupine met long leggins embroidered in beads of many colors, and on her bared arms gleamed burnished copper bracelets. Her rounded bosom still rose and fell with the exertion of the dance.
Walking slowly forward with Opechancanough by her side, and her maidens following, she now came to greet the colonists. Pausing before them she closely scanned their faces, and as she held out her hands to Captain Smith the tender smile of Virginia Dare rippled like sunshine over her features.
“Welcome to the home of Powhatan, O pale face brother. Have my people treated you well, and served you with food?”
“Well and kindly have we fared,” said Captain Smith, “and have also smoked the pipe of peace. Let there be friendship between your people and mine, and in token of our love, receive this string of beads, whose color is that of the sky.”
Instantly Pocahontas was the child again as she eagerly accepted the blue beads and turned to show them to her maidens.
“We will also plant a sign of the love there is between us.” Turning to one of his men, Captain Smith bade him bring axe and spade from the boat. A young aspen no higher than a man soon measured its length upon the ground and was quickly stripped of its branches, one of which, with the silvery grey leaves still quivering upon it, he nailed across the trunk. Then a hole was dug and the “Sign” placed within it. Turning to Pocahontas, he told her that she must hold it upright while the men banked the earth.
With a joyous laugh she threw her arms over the beams of the cross and leaned her weight against the trunk. A sob rose in the throat of the young soldier as he looked upon the picture of savagery clinging to the Hope of all the world. Surely the Holy Ghost was brooding over her on that Pentecost Day.