NORTH CAROLINIANA COLLECTION TURNED JUST IN TIME TO ESCAPE AN ARROW.” VIRGINIA DARE A Romance of the Sixteenth Century BY Bi As By B:, AUTHOR OF “CECIL’s STORY OF THE DOVE, ” “STORIES oF EASTER-TIDE,” ETC, NEW YORK: THOMAS WHITTAKER 2 AND 3 BIBLE House 1892 GRATEFULLY DEDICATED TO OUR RECTOR AND FRIEND, COPYRIGHT, 1892, By THOMAS WHITTAKER. Reberend Joseph Cavey, D.B., OF SARATOGA SPRINGS. THE author would like to remind the readers of the romance of Virginia Dare, that if they go back in memory to their schooldays, and the details of their American history, they will re- member that Governor White sailed for Eng- land from Roanoke on the 28th of August, 1587, leaving behind him his daughter, and her child who had been born ten days before; that he was unable to Peturn immediately, owing to war with Spain, and when after the lapse of the three years he did return, he found the island of Roanoke deserted, and a palisade built, as if there had been a fight with the Indians. He found no cross, as he had directed them to put one if they were in trouble, over the name of the place to which they had removed. But he found on one tree the first three letters of the word “Croatoan,” and on another the entire word. They attempted to find Croatoan, but, losing their anchors, were obliged to drift away and give up the search. 3 CHAPTER I. VIRGINIA DARE: A ROMANCE OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. CHAPTER I. **T cannot feel That all is well when darkening clouds conceal The shining sun; 3ut then I know God lives and loves; and say, since it is so, Thy will be done.” E. B. Brown ina. “WE'VE got a bright lookout, if this day is the foreteller of what our nation is to be in this new land;” and the speaker threw down his hunting-knife with a satirical laugh. “Well, Jake, we cannot expect anything brighter if we’ve sense and courage enough to look before us. Ten days more and the ships will be gone; then what is there to prevent these savages from murdering us all? Our 7 8 VIRGINIA DARE. colony will have a short day, and may be wiped out before it is half over. This land belongs to the redskins; and when our men and the governors fly over the water, and won’t take us, it is simply saying, ‘Poor things, some- one’s got to stay, or the London Company won't like it: be brave, and die like Englishmen for us.’ ” “What dost thou say, Hopeful Kent? Ah! thou talkest like a brave Englishman; surely, shouldst thou die as thou livest, thy country- men would have naught to be proud of in thee.” Both men looked ashamed as the speaker ad- vanced from the wood, and looked straight at them with his great searching eyes, from under a broad-brimmed flat hat, such as was worn by the clergy after the Reformation. He looked almost sternly at the two men as he asked, “Dost thou try to better things by hard work? Dost thou try to help thy gover- nor, whom thy Lord has put over thee? For shame, Jake Barnes! Didst thou work more, and growl less, thou would’st do better. Thou scarcely livest up to thy blessed calling in thy name, Hopeful Kent! How great is the mercy of thy God that he smiteth thee not! ; Jake Barnes shuffled away, muttering some- VIRGINIA DARE. 9 thing to himself about “ preaching parsons;”’ but the other man asked, “Don’t you think, Master Bradford, it is rather bad luck that the day the first white baby opens its eyes in this new land should be wild and rough? I always look, sir, on the bright side when my judg- ment lets me, but I think it’s a bad sign.” “Dost thou? See, Hopeful,” cried the old man, “even now the sun has broken through. God be praised! Be there such things as thou speakest of, — chance, signs, and luck, —I wot not of them. But, even so, the day shall dawn dull and hard for us, as we have seen; but when the blessed evensong calleth, it shall be bright as yonder sky for our people, and the next day shall dawn and set with peace and plenty for them, through God’s great mercy.” “A pity the first child was not a boy: we all think that, sir, don’t you?” “Ah, Hopeful, the dear Lord knoweth best! This sweet lamb of his fold, born in this hea- then land, mayhap she was sent a woman that her constancy may keep her faith bright, though her way be a hard one. God bless her!” “Why should a woman be more constant than a man, sir? I think we men make the 10 VIRGINIA DARE. world what it is, and it seems to me rather bad that this child is a girlk We want fight- ing, not constancy, now. She’ll need as much care and food as if she were going to fell a dozen Indians when she’s grown. ‘There’s been but little work done to-day, the men are all so excited, and all over a bit of a girl.” “There’s not a man among us that knoweth the worth of a strong arm that the good Lord giveth unto his soldiers, better than I; but I have not the time to be talking to-day of the work of the blessed women in the world. It was the holy Father’s will; praised be his name! Let us bow down in thanksgiving that he hath sent unto us one of his little ones; for where they go they carry his blessing. As thou art pained by the slackness among the men about the work, I’ll keep thee no longer, thou may’st go to thy tasks; mayhap they will follow thy example.” “Please, Master Bradford, Mistress Wilkins sends her regards, and would have me say that she would be wanting to speak with you,” The speaker was a child of ten or twelve, who courtesied as she gave her message. She was a strange-looking little figure, with her tightly plaited yellow hair drawn back from a very VIRGINIA DAPR. 11 brown forehead. Her pale-blue eyes were a strange contrast to her skin, which was almost copper color from exposure. She wore a plain dark frock, with a kerchief neatly crossed on her breast. The clergyman took the child’s hand, say- ing, “I will come at once, Patience, child; art thou going back to Mistress Wilkins now?” “Please, I will be there almost with Master Bradford, if I may first gather some of those posies to put on the cradle. Mistress Wilkins says I may rock it,” said the child, looking up into the gray eyes that were smiling kindly down on her. They seemed to encourage her; for she added, clasping her hands, and fairly beaming with delight, “The baby is the most beautiful one, sir, you ever saw. I love it, oh, so much! They want to ask you about its name, and when it would please you to give it, sir.” “Ah, yes, I suppose the governor wills it to be done before we sail; sure, it must be, but I had not thought of it. He is right: Iam too old for this life here; my memory is f ailing me. I shall go back to England and thank ne fs] Ral the blessed Lord for letting so unworthy a ser- vant do so great a work as to receive for him 12 VIRGINIA DARE. two precious souls belonging to so strange : time and people, — the red savage Manteo last week; and the wee baby, the first one ia a new and heathen land, this week, no doubt. The old man had nodded his consent to the child, and walked on with bowed head, thinking aloud. The child sprang at once into a little thicket where wild vines and flowers grew in abundance, and gathered her arms full. neon certainly made an odd picture; her yeaa a e figure in that wild, unbroken country, as she stood on the branch of a fallen tree, one arm full of flowers and trailing vines, while she was trying with the other how far she could throw a flat stone and make it skip over the water. As it skipped once, twice, three times, then sank, making great circles on the smooth surface, she laughed merrily, and springing from branch to branch she ran on, jumping over every obstacle, at the same time chanting: — ‘Be thou, O God, exalted high; And as thy glory fills the sky, So let it be on earth displayed, Till thou art here, as there, obeyed.” It was Friday that Patience summoned Mas- ter Bradford to Mrs. Dare’s hut, where ay a few hours before the baby had opened its blue VIRGINIA DARR. 13 eyes and caused excitement Even Master Bradford felt pleasure as Mistress Wilkin ture into his arms, your blessing, in the little colony. a strange thrill of 8 put the tiny crea- saying, “Give the child sir: I felt it were not safe to let her be longer without at least the blessing of a priest.” As he took the little one, there was an un- easy look in his honest face. Master Bradford would not have suited some Churchmen of the present day; and yet we all look back with pride as well as pleasure to the fact that among the first colonists in this country there was a priest of our Church, and the first time that praise and worship sounded in our ] from this great continent, it w of our own beautiful li Master Bradford’s service in the rude Roanoke chapel, to the days of Captain John Smith, when good Mr. Hunt and Mr. Whittaker fought the strengthening Puritan eleme anguage as in the words turgy; and thus, from nt, no of our service had ever been offered but that own dear Church. He replied, the Lord has trusted to this fold. °T; “She is the first precious lamb Is true hildren ig but a can do no harm.” the blessing of any of God’s ¢ form of prayer to him and 14 VIRGINIA DARE. He held many of the Puritan views aa hee then beginning to take root in ae ‘ Bit only natural, then, that he shoul i ie comply with Mistress Wilkins s eee se he took the child tenderly, as it = ee arms; and as he held it and looke a little face, so fresh from heaven, all —— slipped away, and he satisfied even Mis bee figure of Governor sips and sp ani are, entered the room aang atc aay ea “May our ie Shepherd watch over this little ae 7 “ wilderness, and lead her safely ee Sg the heavenly fold at last. And igs t 7 a ing of the Father, the Son, and the Holy,Sp “Te ig ne morning, the perigee ini in the year of our Lor 7, Semge' po ~ typical day for sete sagt the year, sunny and warm, with a so ne 7 : wh thing, as if the world ee i: get tai this particular day, in — rae ular place, the world looked as if . mer eae waked up at all. One could not * a tt those lovely flowers and ferns ha = ge covered with ice and snow, or VIRGINIA DARF. 15 mighty forest trees had been storms till their very roots trembled in the earth. That still peaceful sheet of sparkling in the morning sur able to lash itself into gre great ships into fragments. On this little island this quiet Sund was a strange sight to be called the people to ser chapel; and an odd-looking lot they were. First came two Puritan maidens, walking de- murely together; then an English gentleman, whose clothes looked shabby, as did he him- self; then a little company from the shore, Where some canoes showed tha landed. Among them was a straight black hair h ders: he wore shaken in fierce water, light, seemed un- at waves, or to dash ay, there seen as the drum-beat vice in the little log tall figure with anging around his shoul- a topknot of feathers, a bright blanket, an English ruff about his neck, which had been given him while he was in England; for this was Manteo, the chief who had been made a Christian only the Sunday before in this same little chapel. He had a fine figure, tal] and graceful. With him came a little his own braves: they went str. towards the low building. slouching sailors, who looked group of aight up the hill Then came some as if they did not 16 VIRGINIA DARE. often go to the chapel, and were a little uncom- fortable now. Then there were some men in smock-frocks. Then behind a whole family, just as you might have seen at home in England, go- ing to any church. They were evidently people of the middle class. The father had undoubt- edly been a miller before he left home, if one might judge from his funny springing step and broad miller’s thumb. He looked very proud and happy as he walked along by his sturdy wife. Before them were their four children, a little rosy boy and a big girl, hand in hand, and the twins, yellow-haired English lassies. ad.” er pra laughed as he replied, “ vies the heathen dog. I helped them to go to Croa- ee ea ppaee ee = en iy —— 2 ere ee ne me SS Ee RT OTE Oe $ = eke en men tet ee “~— VIRGINIA DARE. 19 78 VIRGINIA DARE. eral of the floating canoes, which they had cap- tured on their way back. As day dawned, they found all that remained of the English colony on the shores of Croatoan, waiting to see how the chief Manteo would treat them. toan, where we must go as soon as possible. That’s what happened to the Indians in the middle of fighting; they must have suddenly discovered that their canoes were gone, and, I dare say, thought some of their gods had spirited them away.” “Thank ’eaven, thank ’eaven!” cried the first speaker, falling on his knees. “Thank ’eaven for my "Ilda! ” They saw that Howe was exhausted, and left him resting on the ground while they went to work. An hour later Governor White’s trunks were buried, and all the little treasures they could carry were packed in bundles, and all was made ready to leave Roanoke. Howe and Barnes were both too seriously wounded to walk; they were laid on rude biers and carried. The dead men had been buried ; others, who were only slightly wounded, walked, though in more or less pain. The way through the forest was a rough one, but their courage kept them up. At last the bank was reached, and in a sheltered hiding-place they found Thomson and Harvey waiting with the largest boat; the other, they said, had not reached Croatoan when they left. They had also sey- itt teee teen aint CHAPTER VII. ‘*She had eyes of sunniest English blue; She had tresses of golden hair; Her cheeks were tipped with the hawthorn’s hue; Her name, Virginia Dare.” Manrxo, true to the faith he professed, for- gave and forgot, or rather he never spoke of his warning, or Ranteo’s strange visit to Roanoke ; when he understood that the white tribe were in trouble, and had fled to him for protection, he solemnly held out his hand to Mrs. Dare, then handed her a long pipe, seeming to take it for granted that she filled her father’s place. She went bravely at it for a few minutes in sight of all Manteo’s warriors, who watched her with a strange awe; then he took the pipe from her and led her to a wigwam, where she was to stay while the refugees were provided for by the Indians. The autumn days slipped by, and the winter came. It was a mild winter, even for that part of the country; and as it broke, and the first mild, balmy spring days came, the settlers began oo 84 VIRGINIA DARE. to watch for the governor’s return. Day after day they looked, but the mild spring melted into the heat of summer, and yet he did not come. Hopeful Kent and his boat-load that left Roanoke in such a hurry that night had never been seen or even heard of; they had either been drowned, or captured by Wanchese’s men. Autumn again began to paint the trees yellow and red, yet no sign of a sail; the men were growing discontented, and gave up watching for the ships they would never see, and went more ardently at their grumbling. One night, nearly fifteen months after Goy- ernor White and his fleet had left the shore of Virginia, the men’s discontent, which had been smouldering like a choked fire, burst into a blaze of defiant rebellion, and on that same night they slipped away in the darkness. Sixty of the men whom Manteo had sheltered and cared for more than a year went to Wanchese. Barnes was the leader in this, as in the former troubles ; but he did not tell the men all he meant to do; he knew them too well to expect them to agree to anything so base as this plan. In truth, he meant to betray Manteo. Wanchese listened to his proposal with disdain and distrust, then Free ta teres wer ppeaeeeee Tanatn NY er = a blow of | - Many of the men were killed, others were branded and kept as slaves. discontented were gone. sad hearts among the women a while, for s¢ VIRGINIA DARE. 85 aie f he cried, ‘ Such a dog shall not live !” and with his tomahawk Barnes fell dead. Life was more quiet and peaceful after the Of course there were and children for yme had lost husbands and fathers. The weaker ones broke down utterly aoe the life of exposure and hardship. phe 04 es grave had been made ; the Indians loo cing * i awe and wonder at the Christian burial. Mrs. Dare had learned many Indian words, et me quiet way she had done much for the Fig sis women and children, for there were such among ‘ear -day in our vages, as there are to-day those poor sa : : and in that own civilized towns and villages; = not only their hearts, but the way she won a ; There is no surer way hearts of the men also. , in the world to a man’s heart than through his children. Sito eM Be All this time the baby Virgima ae soft down on her round head had ¢ sg or to a halo of golden curls. Her eyes hac ‘ey il 2 ea ° grown large and deep like the ‘5 : se i and sometimes aughing blue, and som a cloud of sorrow crept some- times a sparkling, | almost a gray when VIRGINIA DARE. 87 86 VIRGINIA DARE. =e sky. The tering as she looked up towards the sky Ran- Other squaws acted in the same a M Ail n tdi es rs. teo, who had just come up, explainec va mitts Dare that his people had never on & Pak car With blue eyes before, and they would = net it, for they thought it must be a spirit. ae Spans ved presents of all kinds, that day Virginia received p Aan 7 > Wi n eagie. from the skin of a bison to the wing of a a a H 0 ¢ ‘ Her baby clothes were worn out long eo é ; : +1. oose. She lay wrapped in skins, like any pap¢ alf : : nett a year and a ha She was a little more than a ) if there ith Gage to see old when Howe went with Gage to eek: Phe Thita’a ef, -) was any sign of Governor White sf ee as y Life went on quietly at Croa sir hunt, or, in their ; : “ toan. The men went to their shoulder, moaning and sobbing. The old ; I wi . ia ary, went to fight. ‘ : gaudy paint and war toggery, W . oman shook her head, and passed on to the si agtiatia | cots bas willow cradle. Little Virginia looked up at The women beat out the ‘ 2 “ - 5 ” a ‘ . ashamed of the white people who are left oa As you say, I am no better than these ndians, who are Christians indeed. They have 8iven us food and shelter all these years, and what do we give them? No better? I wish I Were half as brave, half as noble, as some of them are, You are not worthy to touch the old man whom you have bound. One cry would en times your number of Manteo’s men, ho would kill you all, should they see their chief in danger.” And she added, her eyes de excitement, “I will wep a here he «: eS And if one moan. is. foun © he will be killed, as he deserves. bring 4 WwW 124 VIRGINIA DARE. Barnes drew a knife from his belt as he came towards her, saying, “If you dare open your mouth, I will soon silence you. Try me!” A slight rustle, a swift movement, and Iosco stood before Barnes, who shrank before the tall figure, and every white man fled. Virginia * sprang to Manteo. With Iosco’s knife she cut the cords that bound him to the tree. She kissed his hand where the cord had torn the flesh. The old chief was moved by her gentle, caressing care, and showed more feeling than when he was threatened with death. She knelt there by the old man, trying to show her love. Tosco stood ata distance, with folded arms, looking far away. He was thinking, surely this would make Owaissa forget the canoes with wings, when a sudden cry made him turn. It was Virginia; she sprang up as if to shield Manteo, who tottered a moment, then fell heay- ily to the ground. “ An arrow, Iosco, an arrow!” she cried, as she knelt by the prostrate form. Tosco bent down, his expression unchanged, save for a strange look in his dark eyes. He heard his father heave a deep sigh, then all was still. Manteo was dead. The arrow had pierced his heart; but where had it come from? lIosco VIRGINIA DARE. 125 Sprang up, the savage thirst for vengeance throbbing through his veins. With his hand on his tomahawk, one moment he stood looking down on his dead father, by whom Virginia ‘nelt, her face rigid with horror. Looking up, She saw Losco so changed she hardly knew him. se Was staring at her, though he did not see er. She thought his anger and vengeance were turned on her. The scene of horror had changed her from a merry girl to a woman. MG Sopa : oS © voice in which she spoke was deep and ear. “ a ’ « ° : i losco,” she said, “kill me if you will. I Would die a } hundred times over if I could bring ack the Wista.. life of the great and good Werowance a reskin us. God will reward him. I know can dc 5 and he will punish us. Nothing you > to me will be hard or cruel. I will die any death you choose.” — turned quickly away. He had forgot- in th rginia until she spoke; he was absorbed and a dreadful thought of his father's death, Whisss va idea that he had been killed by men with 16 had not only saved, but had treated the Pt kindness. His only comfort lay in words Pe of vengeance. But Virginia’s ‘ Drought back his better self. He could 126 VIRGINIA DARE. not look at her, and turned away to hide his grief. There came before him the memory of Mrs. Dare sitting under the willow-tree, while he, Virginia, and the other children listened to her telling a story. He thought he could hear her saying, “Those very men whom he came to save, whom he loved and lived for, nailed him to the tree, pierced his dear hands and feet, and while they were doing it, they mocked and spit at him, and called him vile names. He was greater than any chief you ever saw or heard of. But he did not get angry. He was only so sad. Even in the moment of greatest pain, he looked up to his Father, the Great Spirit, and said, ‘Forgive them, for they know not what they do.’”’ Tosco felt he could have forgiven anything done to himself. But was it right to think of forgiving his father’s murderers? The answer seemed to come in Mrs. Dare’s words again: “The dear Jesus could have killed every one of those men, and come down from off the cross; but he would not, for he loved us so much he was willing to bear all, to teach us how we could forgive each other. He not only forgave them, but asked his Father to for- give them also.” VIRGINIA DARE. 127 "Ty Paclaaeepr the morning sunlight, the little fesse and the dancing waves, all seemed to be in ia and over to him, “The dear Jesus ave killed every one of those men; but © loved us all all that to te Other,” Ww so much he was willing to bear ach us how we could forgive each : as it, then, such a great thing to be able to forgive? ; One of tho. He knew he could have every eehaas ee killed; every one would ~ it. He never for one moment included r tea he thought of the white people. turned 3 Bias a being all by herself. As he hes rae Rs her kneeling by the ma Paap. white ag ra: Pape her face upturned. t was .,, ~ marble. She must be speaking to the eg Fire Those treacherous hands could ther, For a ee where they had struck his fa- danger ina first time Iosco saw they were in forest, oe id he sent forth a great ery into the >» Which he knew would bring his people. Vir Trini ra Sinia knew what it meant. She rose and od Waiting. Sen Banat earner cs {poe AIT Lie Weg ¢ ia an how can you save me? Will Powhatan liste to you, Nantiquas?” She said it half dreamily, a Tosco had been lying close outside her last words, and Nantiquas’s reply, which made him clinch his hands : — «“ Powhatan will not hurt Nantiquas s wife. To save Owaissa, she will be Nantiquas’s wife, and love him.” The voice was answered : — “O Nantiquas, you ar gif she didn’t care. , and heard clear and decided, that e so good to want to a Lar Me a RS Se I 9 an er Re RU CL ~~ i a 3 180 VIRGINIA DARE. save me, but I could not be saved that way; I could never be your wife, Nantiquas. I would do anything else in the world that I could for you.” After a long silence, Nantiquas replied, “Then Owaissa will sooner die than be the wife of Nantiquas? He cannot save her.” “ No, Nantiquas,” she said firmly and clearly ; **no; I can never be your wife.” He said not a word, but passed out of the wigwam into the twilight. Cleopatra tried to coax Virginia to eat. Iosco lay concealed at the back of the wigwam, and wondered why Owaissa had refused Nantiquas, till the dark- ness crept up and the moon rose, and the stars came out to keep their mother moon company. The hours slipped by, those last hours, as it seemed, of Owaissa’s life. Iosco asked himself over and over again, should he go to her or not? CHAPTER XV. Fa ma a Santen Lt Tei CHAPTER XV. “No answer comes through the ceaseless whirl Of the hurrying ages tossed, And the New World’s first little English girl Is still a little girl lost.” E. H. Nason. Ir was nearly the middle hour, when the darkness is thickest, that a low voice said, at the entrance of the wigwam, “ Will Owaissa come? Be quick, and move like a young fawn, without noise!” It was a very low call for Iosco to hear, but it reached him. In a moment he stood before the wigwam by Nantiquas, who only said, “ We shall carry Owaissa, and Iosco must go with her. Will he go?” The reply was prompt: — “He will go anywhere that Owaissa will be safe; but where will that be?” * Ask nothing now. Can you carry her Tosco lifted Owaissa tenderly, as if she had been a baby, and the three passed into the dark- ness and silence of the forest night. 183 9” 184 VIRGINIA DARE. Nantiquas led them first behind the wigwam, where there were bushes and undergrowth to hide them. Then he turned into a trail un- known to Iosco. On, on, they went. Not a word was said. Owaissa felt that Iosco was carrying her, and she cared for nothing else. Iosco knew that he had his darling close to his heart, and that she had refused life at the price of being the wife of the bravest prince of the mightiest tribe. Suddenly Nantiquas stopped, and said : — “ Ramapo stands yonder by the fallen willow; he loves Owaissa, and will let her pass. Tosco shall say he carries Owaissa to the great Wero- wance Eyonols on the Chanock flu. Say that she goes to hide at Ritanoe, in the mines of Mattasin. We meet beyond.” Iosco went on as Nantiquas said, and met Ramapo, who let him pass. But no sooner had he done it than his loyal heart repented, and he called to Iosco to return. But Iosco only ran on the more quickly. He was wondering what he should do to protect Owaissa, when he heard Nantiquas say, “Turn under the lindens to the right, quickly!” And he turned just in time to escape an arrow that Ramapo had sent after him. VIRGINIA DARE. 185 Nantiquas led on in a different direction. The trail was very narrow and rough. Yet Iosco wished they might go on all night, that he might hold his prize so close. After walking for several hours, Nantiquas stopped suddenly, and turned, saying, “The river lies just beyond. By it there is a camp, which fears not being seen, for the fire burns. The clever Powhatan has not had time to have his fire burning as bright as a harvest sun, since we started. If they are his men we shall be taken. First, Nantiquas would speak to Owaissa. He did journey to the pale-faces’ camp, and lie watching and listening, but no word that Owaissa spoke came to his ears. He did see one like a spirit, so white was his face. He lays his hands together, and puts his knees on the ground, looks up and speaks, and while he does, Nantiquas seizes and carries him off in the woods. He has not the strength of a kid, but his eyes are like those of a young deer, so brown and soft. Nantiquas says to the pale- face, ‘ Virginia.’ He nods his head and laughs, as if he knows what that is. Then Nantiquas says, ‘ White,’ and he puts his hands to his face ‘ vals and laughs more. Nantiquas says, ‘Dare,’ and he puts one hand on the other, and looks up as 186 VIRGINIA DARE. if he would say he feared the Indian not. He would understand no more. So Nantiquas leaves him to go back tohis camp. While Nanti- quas listened to the white camp men, he heard many speak to one, the chief. But they do not say ‘ White,’ they say ‘New-port.’ One other is ‘Smi-th,’ and many more such. But none with the words of Owaissa.” Owaissa stood by Nantiquas while he spoke. She laid her hand on his arm as she said, “ Then they have forgotten me, my own people. But you, Nantiquas, you have been so kind, so very good to me. I shall always love you as I would have loved my brother. I will pray for you always.” “Ts it the prayer that makes Owaissa so brave?” he asked very gently. “Yes, Nantiquas,” she replied. “It is the Great Spirit who makes us able to meet death. Some day you will know all about him. I am sure you will.” Nantiquas took Virginia’s little hand and pressed it one moment. Then they stepped forward cautiously toward the river and the light. So softly did they move, they would surely not have been heard or discovered but for Virginia, who, as she came nearer the fire, VIRGINIA DARE. gave a great cry, and sprang forward. figures were lying by the fire on the ground, and one was a white man. It was an English voic oe ginia’s cry, “ Who comes this way? j Virginia had sprung from her two companions, and was standing in the firelight before they could stop her. She spoke in her own tongue. They could not tell what she said, but they saw the two figures, who seemed to be alone by the camp fire, draw close to her. “ Ranteo!” exclaimed Iosco. teo!” and he went forward. : When the old Indian saw Iosco, he caught his hand, crying, ‘The people of Manteo do ae. for Iosco. They offer sacrifices every “ey or his return. But he comes not. Old Ranteo and fetch him back. The e that replied to Vir- “Tt is old Ran- comes far to find him brave Christian Werowance, Iosco ! It was Owaissa who answered, turning from the stranger with whom she had been atte talking, «Do they really want Iosco back at Croatoan? I knew they would, some day. I am so glad, dear Tosco.” Nantiquas and the strang had been speaking looked a ” er to whom Virginia t each other in sur- alking by prise for a moment, then they began t Fee te 188 VIRGINIA DARE. signs. Nantiquas turned to the others, and laughed as he said, “ The poor pale-face could not get to his camp. He was but an arrow’s fling from it.” Ranteo laughed too, as he answered, “The poor nemarough wandered like a lost deer back and forth, and was full of fear. He would speak with me, but he could not, and for the great Werowance Manteo’s love, who did good to all such, Ranteo gave the stranger half his fire and half his food, and would bring him to Iosco.” Nantiquas interrupted, “The Owaissa is not safe on Powhatan’s land. The boys and men wait yonder. You must go on. You must go to Croatoan. Is it not so, Iosco?” “ But how about the Werowance at Ritanoe ? Must we not go there, Nantiquas?” Virginia asked. Nantiquas laughed. “ Owaissa would not have come by this trail had she been journeying to Ritanoe. Powhatan’s braves have that trail to- night. Owaissa was on her way to her own people, to the camp of the pale-faces, but it is safer for her on the way to Croatoan. There she can join her people without danger from Powhatan.” A slight noise in the darkness startled them. eee VIRGINIA DARE. 189 Iosco drew a deerskin over the fire and stepped on it till the light was gone. Nantiquas led the way, and they followed ; they had gone only « short distance when they came to the men and boys, all that was left of the Roanoke colony, seven souls. Two small skiffs were waiting, a moment more and all was ready. Owaissa clasped Nantiquas’s hand. “ You have been very good, dear Nantiquas. You will come to us some day, won’t you?” Her voice fal- tered, and she sobbed as she had not done in all the scenes of pain or danger. “ He has been so good; he has saved us all,” she said, turning to the Englishman, who, raising his hand, gave his blessing to the young Indian prince. One more grasp of Owaissa’s hand, then the skiffs were moving down the Youghianund flu, leaving Nantiquas alone on the shore. The first rays of the sun glistened on the waving hair in the boat, and on a little silky curl in the Indian’s brown hand, as he caressed it tenderly. The mists cleared away, and a faint gleam of color tinged the sky like the reflection of a rainbow. He saw it, and muttered to himself, as the skiffs passed out of sight, “ Nantiquas will never tell your secret to the whites, Iosco, lest they carry her off from you.” And then looking towards Yee tT eH, ah Bahlika, ~ 190 VIRGINIA DARE. the bright bow of color, he added, ‘“ True, there are many flowers do die on earth.” Powhatan had condemned all the whites to die because he was afraid they might tell the se- crets of his people to the white tribe who had now settled near his own lands. If they knew all, they would be dangerous enemies. So Nan- tiquas had sent word to Iosco not to let any of the whites attempt to go to Jamestown, for there were spies watching for them all the way, with orders to capture them. A reward was offered for every white scalp from Croatoan or Ritanoe, or wherever the seven whites had escaped to. The old places were slowly coming nearer and nearer, and the great throb of happiness that leaps into one’s heart as he is coming home, filled Virginia’s heart with thankfulness and love. “© Tosco, I am so glad I did not go right to my own people ; I would never have seen Croa- toan again. I am sure there is not another place in the whole world so beautiful. I love it, every spot of its ground. Are you glad we are all to be together again for a while?” “Tosco is glad, oh, yes, very glad. Did Owa- issa’s father come in the big canoes? What tid- Se we i ss - i ce ee VIRGINIA DARE. 191 ings brings the white man of her people?” he asked very earnestly. Virginia was standing in the end of the skiff, that she might catch the first glimpse of the dear familiar place. She put her hand on Iosco’s shoulder to steady herself, and looking sadly down into his dark eyes, she said, “O Tosco, do you know I have almost forgotten my peo- ple’s language: many things the white man says to me I cannot understand. But this I do know; he says my grandfather and my father came with the big canoes to find us, long, long ago, and they found only the empty place at Roa- noke and the word ‘ Croatoan ;’ but when they would find Croatoan, the storm caught up their canoes and carried them away. Even now this Chief Newport is speaking for us, and will be glad when he knows what you have done, and will give you many things.” “ Will the pale-face take Owaissa to her peo- ple soon ?” Iosco asked. “ Whenever you send some one with us. We could not go alone; but do not let us hurry. Let us see you back at the old place, and this white face can teach your people and all of us about the Great Spirit, the dear Jesus. Mis- tress Wilkins said this land needed such as he is 192 VIRGINIA DARE. to hallow it —a priest.” Virginia said the last word reverently. “ The-pale face is good. The light of the Great Spirit is in his eyes. He shall stay as long as he will, and teach the people as Manteo would have wished; and surely Owaissa will never hurry from the people who love her,” Tosco replied. “Do you know, Iosco,” she said with a wist- ful look, “do you know I almost dread going to my people now. If I have forgotten even their language, which I once knew so well, how much less shall I know their ways and lives, which I have never learned; they will not understand me and my ways, they will laugh at me. Your people are really my people, for I know and love them.” As Iosco sprang from the little boat, upon his own land, he thought he had never felt so happy before; and when he turned and helped the Englishman on the shore, giving him a welcome after the manner of his people, Virginia won- dered if the coming back had brought such joy into his face; she had not seen the pain that the leaving of it must have caused. The priest bared his head, and raising his hand _ blessed the land and the people ; then the VIRGINIA DARE. 193 little company moved up the hill. There were the great fields of tobacco with their long leaves shining in the sunlight; and there were the fields of corn where the women must have lately been working, but now there was not a sign of woman or child. Virginia was anxious to see the people; and she hurried on before the others, and ran swiftly over the grass, which was dotted with daisies. She soon reached the council house, which was like a great arbor, and hearing voices she stopped and looked in. It was, indeed, a weird, almost unearthly sight that met her gaze. In the centre a great fire burned; around it on the ground a circle was formed of grains of corn; outside of this a larger circle formed of meal. Six men, painted red and black, with white circles painted about their eyes, followed ; another, painted like them- selves, only a little more gaudily, wore on his head a sort of crescent made of weasel-skins stuffed with dried moss, the tails tied together at the top with a knot of bright feathers, while the skins fell about his face and neck; a great green snake was coiled around his throat, the tail flapping about on his back. The crea- ture, who was in fact the chief medicine-man, was a frightful object, as he danced before the 194 VIRGINIA DARE. fire uttering unearthly yells. The people had assembled in the arbor, bringing with them offerings of every imaginable description for sacrifice. The purpose of this worship was to entreat the Great Spirit to send Iosco back: they did not know how to offer the Christian sacrifice, yet they felt that their prayers must be accom- panied by some proof of their earnestness ; so they used the old form of heathen worship, the only thing they had known till Manteo went to England and came back a Christian ; but even then there had been no one to teach them its blessed worship. From Manteo and Mrs. Dare they had only gained a glimmering of its first principles, which they, poor heathen people as they were, had eagerly grasped. The people inside were so intent on their worship that they did not notice Virginia, as she stood in the vine- covered doorway, or the others who soon joined her. To Martin Atherton, the English priest, as he gazed in at the wild, weird scene, it seemed like the very entrance of hell, and that hideous figure, the chief medicine-man, looked not un- like the evil one himself, as he danced and yelled, followed closely by the others. Then a ae ee eg ——————- PEER SSS VIRGINIA DARE. 195 all the people sent forth a groan, and the chief medicine-man threw many of the offerings the people had brought into the fire, which caused a great crackling and spluttering. T he groans of the people rose dolefully, and the wild yell of the medicine-man completed the frightful scene. When Iosco passed from the little group out- side, and stood in the firelight before his people, they thought he had come out of the fire, and waited one moment to see if he would vanish into it again. As he did not, they pressed their hands to their hearts and yelled for Joy; till the very rocks seemed to tremble. | At a sign from Iosco his people were silent. He spoke to them of his father, and of his Christian faith; of the whites, and how Powha- tan had killed most of them ; of the canoes now in the river; of how he had heard they had wanted him, and he had come. Now did they wish him to remain? With a great cry they called him their chief, while the medicine-men strewed corn before him, as 4 sign that all should be his, and poor old Adwa, the squaw who had nursed him, ran to the fire, and would have thrown herself in as a thank-offering had not Iosco caught her and pointed to Virginia, 196 VIRGINIA DARE. who still stood in the doorway. She ran to her, and held the head of soft wavy hair to her breast as tenderly as any mother would have done. Martin Atherton looked on in amazement, at the squaws gathered about Virginia, and showed how tenderly they loved her. He could see that she loved them, and for each she seemed to have afew kind words. The children seemed to rain down, more than a dozen having gath- ered around her ina minute. As he watched her caress them lovingly, and saw her pick up one brown little boy, who was scarcely more than a papoose, and hold him close to her heart, he wondered if she could ever be happy in a conventional English life, and what the draw- ing-room would say and think of this forest maiden. CHAPTER XVI. CHAPTER XVI. “ Life has two ecstatic moments, one when the spirit catches sight of truth, the other when it recognizes a kindred spirit. Perhaps it is only in the land of truth that spirits can discern each other ; as it is when they are helping each other on that they may best hope to arrive there. ” _. Epna LYALL. Ir was the first of the Indian seasons, “ the fall of the leaf.’ Croatoan was glorious with its colored leaves and late flowers. Weeks had slipped by since the escape from Werowocomoca. Iosco had been welcomed by his people ; so had Owaissa. The other whites, the best of the col- onists who had gone to Powhatan, and thor- oughly frightened by all that had happened there, were looked upon with suspicion for a long time. But the new-comer, the pale Eng- lishman, made friends with all. He was only waiting for an opportunity to return to James- town. He was a priest of the church, who had worn himself out with work among the miners in England. He was broken in health, and the 199 200 VIRGINIA DARE. doctor in London had ordered a sea-voyage. Just as the colony were starting from Blackwall, Captain Newport persuaded him to go with them, promising to bring him back to his work as soon as he was strong again. So he had gone; but the name of Martin Atherton was not added to the list, though he went across to the New World. Perhaps he was sent in answer to the prayers of a maiden. Through the long months that passed, as the summer slipped away and the autumn took its place, the prayers of Mrs. Dare, Virginia, and those few faithful souls, were answered. The poor Indians, who had had glimmerings of a higher life, through Manteo, their dearly loved chief, now listened eagerly to the message of the church, as Martin Atherton told it in a sim- ple, direct way, while they sat in a circle on the ground about him, sometimes with great rever- ence kissing the sacred Book from which the holy teachings came. Twice a day the sound of prayer and praise went up from the little congregation. Virginia had taught him the language of the people. He told her that the father she so much yearned for had not come, and he taught her about the dear Lord and his church. VIRGINIA DARE. 201 Poor Iosco was in trouble again. He had never spoken of his love to Virginia, and she did all in her power to conceal her love from him. Of course he did not dream of such a pos- sibility as her caring for him. But he watched day by day, and counted every moment she spent with Martin Atherton. Soon he would go to the white people, and then he supposed Owaissa would go too. All Saints’ Day dawned clear and bright. It was to be a great day at Croatoan, but how eventful none of them knew. It was time for the great service to begin. Virginia’s face was radiant with happiness, her fair hair falling loosely over her mantle of turkey feathers. “She might be the Queen of Sheba,” thought Martin Atherton, as he came alittle way behind her. ‘Her dignity and simplicity are perfect. Surely no one could doubt the grace of baptism who knows a soul like that, with its desire for knowledge growing stronger among heathen sur- roundings; alife of praise and worship, though she does not know it. It was she that converted these heathen, not I.”’ He watched her as she knelt, then kneeling himself, his heart rose in earnest thanksgiving for what he had been permitted to do, and a 202 VIRGINIA DARE. prayer that his little Indian congregation might ever be guided aright. The two figures were kneeling when Iosco joined them, followed by a number of his war- riors, among them Ranteo, his honest face fairly glowing with happiness. He thought of the day when Manteo had been baptized in the little chapel at Roanoke. Only then he had held an ignorant reverence for the holy mystery that he was now to receive himself, with a clear knowl- edge of its grace and power. The simple service began, the dear prayers that we all know and love, a simple hymn, and then the holy baptismal service. First Iosco knelt, and then a long line of Indians, all kneel- ing in turn reverently before the priest, were baptized from a little spring that trickled through mossy rocks. It was a strange scene. The chapel formed of a little clearing in the forest, its walls the forest trees, its roof the arching branches, its spire a tall poplar-tree reaching towards heaven, its altar a rough rock. The open book from which the prayers were read lay on the stump of a tree: the birds joined in the hymns of praise, and the deep sigh of the wind in the forest was the organ. VIRGINIA DARE. 203 The holy sign had been made on each brow, and they were henceforth no longer heathen, but soldiers of the great King. Martin Atherton stood before his little congregation and spoke to them. He did not preach on systematic theology, or discuss the question whether St. Paul’s garment was his cloak or a vestment; he spoke as a great soul bringing a great message. He tried to show his hearers the power of the gospel in the past andin the present. He told it simply, but with an eloquence that held every one. His clear voice rang through the forest, with the last words, “Then shall the righteous shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their Father.” A great silence crept over the little congregation as the preacher raised his hand for the invoca- tion, but not a sound came. He raised his eyes, and fell backwards without a word. He lay motionless by the rude altar. Loving hands raised his head and laid it on Virginia’s knee. For a moment the people gathered silently around the unconscious form, then drew away, that they might not keep the reviving air from him, allowing Virginia and Iosco to do what they could, only following their directions. At last the dark eyes opened and saw Virginia’s beautiful face filled with sorrow and anxiety. 204 VIRGINIA DARE. * Dear child,” he said, as he had often spoken before, “please raise my head a little more. This may pass, and I may be better soon; don’t be anxious. If not”— he only smiled and did not finish. “ Oh, you must not die!” Virginia cried ; “we need you ; so does God’s work in this sad world.” “God does not need us, dear child: it is we that need him. You will always be true and faithful to your holy vows, and when the day comes for you to go to England and to your people, you will have teachers sent to these people who are yours by adoption.” Somehow the thought of going to England added to Virginia’s pain at that moment, and she drew closer to Iosco as the speaker fell into a state of unconsciousness. Looking up into Iosco’s face, she read something new that she had never seen there before. He had longed for the Christian faith ; he had wished for his baptism; he had believed all that Martin Ather- ton had taught. The service that morning had changed him. Those blessed drops “had worked wonder there, earth’s chambers never knew.” The right of a new birth, the perfect faith of the man before him, had given Iosco something he could not explain, but he knew VIRGINIA DARE. 205 and felt that the dear Lord was very near, and the knowledge of that perfect love filling his heart, his whole life, brought a peace which the world could never take away. It made him worthy of human love, and yet it made him feel it was quite possible to live without it. When we can say truthfully in our hearts, “ Thy will be done,” God sends us often so great a bless- ing that it almost frightens us as we receive it. The little congregation had moved away. Hours slipped by. Only Virginia and Tosco watched by their friend, who still lay as if dead, with only the slight, uneven fluttering of his heart to show that there was yet life in the worn- out body. Virginia looked up at Tosco, and speaking softly, said, ‘If he really gets better, you ought to send him to his people, that he may see them before he dies.” “The blessed priest shall be carried before the sunrise and laid among his people if he lives. Josco’s warriors shall keep him from harm by Powhatan. The Owaissa can then go with- out fear to her people, and be happy,” he replied. «To-morrow, Iosco? Sosoon? O Iosco” — Virginia faltered. Looking down suddenly into her upturned face he read her great love. The 206 VIRGINIA DARE. two looked into each other’s eyes long and ear- nestly, and each read the other’s heart. Tosco knelt, putting his arm around her, and whis- pered, “ Owaissa, my Owaissa!” He kissed her forehead again and again ; and she laid her head on his breast and clung to him as she said, “J will never, never go, Iosco. Your people shall be my people. We shall be all to each other now.” “My Owaissa will be all to Iosco forever.” When one soul which truly loves looks deep into another and reads there the answering love he has longed for, he knows what a great treas- ure he has better than any one could tell him ; and to both souls comes the sense that they are no longer separate beings, but one in each other. A golden light has spread over the world, which, thank God, nothing earthly has the power to destroy. Two dark eyes had opened and were watching them. Iosco was the first to notice that their friend had roused; and, bending over him, he asked if he wished to be taken to his own people. The holy priest said with a gentle smile, “There will not be time; I shall die among these people; they are dear to me.” At his suggestion, the people were summoned. VIRGINIA DARE. 207 He was raised and supported, and performed the last act of ministry on earth. A Christian wedding was a strange sight to these poor people. It was over; Owaissa and Iosco sat together, and watched by their friend till the sun set, when his soul passed in the glory of the golden sky to the perfect glory and brightness of the people of God. The story of the life of the first American child has never been recorded in history; but that life, we know, was not wasted. Who can tell what a pure, brave life may do? Lived in humble station in this nineteenth cen- tury, or in the wild forest three hundred years ago, as was VIRGINIA DAreE’s! A SELECT LIST OF Books for the Young, FROM THE CATALOGUE OF THOMAS WHITTAKER, 2 AND 3 BIBLE HOUSE, - - NEw YORK. Each volume ts Illustrated and Attractively bound in Cloth. Discount to Teachers and Schools 25 per cent. H. G. ADAMS. ‘The Weaver Boy who Became a Missionary. Being the Story of the Life and Labors of David Livingstone, 12mo..$1 MRS. ALEXANDER, Heroes of the Crusades. —~——Castles and their Heroes. ~—-Tales of the Saracens. 12mo R. M. BALLANTYNE. The Crew of the Water Wagtail. 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Short Ceeghon t in Natural History Numerous Illustrations. 12mo, cloth Shower eeek ——My Backyard Zoo, A Course of Natural ivory. Numerous Illustrations, 16mo, cloth CHARLOTTE M. YONGE. Our New Mistress; or, Changes at Brookfield Earl, 12mo.... ——Under the Storm; or, Steadfast’s Charge. I2mo..... ——tThe Cunning Woman’s Grandson, 12mo, ——tThe Slaves ofSabinus : Jew and Gentile. I2mo.......... <3 ——The Constable’s Tower; or, The Times of Magna Charta. ANONYMOUS. Banning and Pieper By the author of ‘‘ Mlle. Mori,” etc. I2mo.. Fiddler of ‘ieee A The. By the anton sl: “Mile. ” Mori,” etc. nn A et ee eer ery ra Puiets tiga ckivnnen eee I Home of Fiesole, The, and the Times of Savonarola, By the author of ‘‘ Children of Seeligsberg,” etc. I2mo Joan’s Victory. By the author of ‘* Starwood Hall,” etc. 12mo. Kinsfolk and Others. By the author of ‘‘ Mlle. Mori,” etc, BOOKS FOR THE YOUNG. ANONYMOUS.—Conrinurp, Little Grandpa. By M. 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