He called me "the Eagle." Why I never knew, unless it was from some fancied resemblance that he thought he saw in my face to that bird.
"Why dost thou call me the Eagle, Manteo?" I asked him one day.
"My brother is like the Eagle," he answered gravely; "he flies far above the dull realms of earth. The Eagle is the chief of birds, lordly and courageous, even as my brother is a chief among his fellows," and he scanned my face with his dark eyes.
"Manteo is mistaken," I answered with a laugh, "I am no chief."
"Manteo was not born yesterday," he replied. "He knows the royal blood when he sees it. My brother is a great chief."
I did not reply; if he chose to think me a chief, well and good; and rising to my feet, I walked to where Governor White stood, looking out over the water.
"Governor," I said, "hast thou an extra hatchet that thou canst spare me?"
"Surely," he replied, for he was a kindly, thoughtful soul, ever ready to lend a helping hand to his friends. "Sam," he shouted to one of the sailors who stood near, "get thee down below, and bring up one of those new hatchets. What dost thou want with it?" he asked gently.
"I wish to give it to the Indian," I answered. "It will please him much."