Ten American Girls From History | Page 2

hearty forest maiden. This was Matoaka, daughter of the
Werowance Powhatan, and although he had many subjects as well as
twenty sons and eleven daughters, not one was ruled so despotically as
was he himself, by this slender girl with laughing eyes, for whom his
pet name was Pocahontas, or in free translation, "little romp."
Having established themselves in the front row of the crowd the girls
and boys stood eagerly staring at the prisoner, for many of them had
never seen a white man before, and as Pocahontas watched, she looked
like a forest flower in her robe of soft deer-skin, with beaded moccasins
on her shapely feet, coral bracelets and anklets vying with the color in
her dark cheeks, while a white plume drooping over her disordered hair
proclaimed her to be the daughter of a great chief. In her health and
happiness she radiated a charm which made her easily the ruling spirit
among her mates, and compelled the gaze of the captive, whose eyes,
looking about for some friendly face among the savage throng, fastened
on the eager little maiden with a feeling of relief, for her bright glance
showed such interest in the prisoner and such sympathy with him as
was to endear her to his race in later years.
The long line of braves with their heads and shoulders gaily painted

had wound their slow way through forest, field, and meadow to bring
into the presence of the great "Werowance" a no less important captive
than Captain John Smith, leader in the English Colony at Jamestown by
reason of his quick wit and stout heart. The settlers having been
threatened with a famine, the brave Captain had volunteered to go on
an expedition among neighboring Indian villages in search of a supply
of corn. The trip had been full of thrilling adventures for him, and had
ended disastrously in his being taken prisoner by Opechancanough, the
brother of Powhatan. The news of Smith's capture having been carried
to the great Werowance, he commanded that the pale-faced
Caucarouse, or Captain, be brought to him for sentence. And that was
why the warriors marched into Werewocomoco, Opechancanough in
the center, with the firearms taken from Captain Smith and his
companions carried before him as trophies. The prisoner followed,
gripped by three stalwart Indians, while six others acted as flank guards
to prevent his escape, and as they passed into Werewocomoco they
were greeted by yelling savages brandishing weapons and surging
forward to get a better glimpse of the white captive. The procession
halted for a few minutes at the village clearing, then moved slowly on
to Powhatan's "Chief Place of Council," a long arbor-like structure
where the great Werowance was waiting to receive Captain Smith.
The crowd of boys and girls followed in the wake of the warriors until
the Council Hall was reached, when they all dropped back except their
leader. Pushing her hair from her low brow, that she might see more
clearly, and walking with the erectness of a Werowance's daughter,
Pocahontas entered the hall and stood near her father where she could
not only watch the white captive, who appealed strongly to her fancy,
but could also note Powhatan's expression as he passed judgment on
the prisoner.
With inscrutable reserve and majestic dignity the great ruler bowed as
the captive was led before his rustic throne, where he reclined in a
gorgeous robe of raccoon-skins. On either side of the Council Hall sat
rows of dusky men and women, with their heads and shoulders painted
red, some of the women wearing garments trimmed with the white
down from birds' breasts, while others wore long chains of white beads

about their necks.
It was a picturesque sight for English eyes, and fearful though he was
of foul play, the Captain could not but appreciate the brilliant mingling
of gay colors and dark faces. As he stood before the Chief, there was a
clapping of hands to call an Indian woman, the Queen of the
Appamattock, who brought water to wash the captive's hands, while
another brought a bunch of feathers to dry them on. "What next?"
Captain Smith wondered as he watched further preparations being
made, evidently for a feast, of which he was soon asked to partake.
Under the circumstances his appetite was not keen, but he felt obliged
to pretend to a relish that he did not feel, and while he was eating his
eyes lighted up with pleasure as he saw by her father's side--though he
did not know then of the relationship--the little Indian girl whose
interest in him had been so apparent when he saw her in the village. He
dared not smile in response to her vivid glance, but his gaze lingered
long on the vision of youth and