"He is gone," said Manteo, who stood near me. "Does the Eagle wish him brought back?" and he turned as though to go in pursuit.
"No," I answered, "'tis of no use. Manteo, thou wert right, 'twas the track of the beautiful one that thou didst see to-night. But how knewest thou 'twas she? Art thou gifted with magic?" and I laughed uncertainly; for in truth I did not understand how he knew that this print of a shoe was made by Margaret Carroll.
"My brother is curious," grunted the chief. "Listen, and he shall know. When I dwelt with the great chief in the crowded village of the pale faces, there I saw the beautiful one, who outshone the other pale squaws, as the sun outshines the dim stars. One morning I beheld the beautiful one walking in her garden, and after she had gone, I clambered over the wall, and moved by some mysterious impulse, I know not what, I bent over the print of her little moccasin in the soft earth. In the heel of the left shoe there were six tacks, arranged in the shape of a star. To-night I saw not only the shape of the same small footprint, but lo! in the heel of the left shoe I find the star—and then Manteo knew that the beautiful one had passed by."
I stood amazed at such marvelous wood-craft, for although I knew that the Indians were trained in the lore of field and wood from their youth up, I had not thought that they were so expert as this.
The chief had turned his face from me.
"Look!" he said, pointing to the eastern sky, where the first faint rays of the sun were beginning to be visible. "'Tis day, and the men are ready to resume their journey." And so saying he glided swiftly forward to where they were gathered, busy fastening belt and buckle, preparing for the march.
Two long weeks we followed hot upon their trail; we had passed now far into the interior. Twice had we caught sight of a lordly river, broad and wide, as with foaming yellow water it rushed on to join the sea. Over hill and dale, across grassy savannahs we pursued our unwavering march behind the tireless Manteo. Often we started a herd of deer from their hiding places, and with a rush they would dash out of sight among the trees, and sometimes savage beasts of prey were frightened from their lairs by our approach.
Once a great black bear had not been quick enough, and the Indian had wounded him with an arrow; growling surlily, he had turned with a cry of anger, and made for us with foaming muzzle and upraised paw. But as he came down upon our little band, I had snatched a musketoon with lighted fuse from one of the men, and let fly at him. The ball had struck the beast in the throat, and as he reeled from the shock, a dozen men were upon him with upraised blades, and had sheathed their swords in his body.
One night as we rested from our day's trail, we had seen a bright light gleaming a few miles ahead of us; but when after an all night's march we reached the spot, there were only the charred ashes of the camp fire—they had gone.