I followed his outstretched finger; there, far away from the depths of the forest, twinkled a tiny light like a star, one moment it might be seen, and then it would be lost for an instant—then lo! as we looked it would rise again.
"What is it, Manteo?" I asked in surprise.
"'Tis the signal fire of some scout," he answered. "It may be that the natives have discovered that we are advancing into their country, and even now they send the news to their friends."
Only the cry of some wild beast of prey echoed from the forest, and anon the mournful call of some strange bird. We were alone, cut off from all civilization and the world. I looked around me; of how many bloody struggles could not these dark glades tell, could they but speak; how many black and gloomy secrets of war and massacre. They had looked down for countless ages upon the roaming red man, and the wild animals of the forest, but never until now had they been trodden by the foot of civilized man.
The cheery shout of the men floated up to where we lay. They called us to our evening meal, and descending the little hillock, we joined them in their fierce attack upon the smoking venison. After we had eaten our fill, Manteo and myself, lighting our pipes, strode out in the moonlight; below us trickled a little spring, its waters clear as crystal, and I followed the Indian down to drink of its pure waters. He was bending over the moist earth in front of the spring, looking down at the ground intently.
"What is it, Manteo?" I asked, noticing his strange conduct.
"It is the foot of some white squaw," he answered arising. "Let my brother look."
I bent down—there, in the soft earth, was the impression of a little shoe, dainty and small, as though its wearer had touched earth for a moment here, as she bent to quaff the waters of the spring. It was plainly the shoe of a patrician, a lady from its size. No Indian ever wore such a shoe as that; it could have been made by no one but a white woman, unless it was the track of a small child.
The Indian straightened himself up with a grunt.
"It is the beautiful one," he said gravely; "let my brother look."