The Princess Pocahontas Part 28

"I shall not be here, Father; we too shall set sail ere long. I have been happy here in thy land, but I am now suffering from an illness they tell me is called homesickness."

"That is an illness which may be easily remedied, Matoaka. But when thou art come again to Wingandacoa forget not the England and the friends which can never forget thee."

In the days that followed Lady De La Ware, touched by the affection Pocahontas manifested towards her, accompanied her everywhere, to the wonderful masque written by the poet, Ben Jonson, which was performed at the Twelfth Night festival, and to the play written by Master Will Shakespeare that he called "The Tempest," which represented court folk cast ash.o.r.e on an island in the western ocean.

Everything was so full of interest that her new life seemed to be leading her further and further away from the old simple existence of forest and river. Then came the presentation to the Queen, Anne of Denmark, consort of James First of England and Sixth of Scotland. Lady De La Ware had seen that Lady Rebecca's costume suited her dark skin and hair.

Before coming to the presence chamber there were many halls and anterooms filled with courtiers and ladies, whose curious glances might have dismayed any woman who had not grown accustomed to a life at court; but Pocahontas pa.s.sed on unconscious of them all.

In the large hall which they entered last, hung with rich tapestries and furnished with dark oaken chairs and settles covered with royal purple velvet, a few pages and the Queen's ladies alone kept her company. As Pocahontas and Lady De La Ware advanced, the Queen motioned every one else to withdraw to the farther end of the chamber. She curtsied in return to the obeisances made by Pocahontas and her sponsor, but did not stretch forth her hand to be kissed as she would have done had she not considered this stranger before her as a princess of royal blood.

"I thank thee for coming," she said graciously. "I have much desired to see thee. Captain Smith was right when he reminded me of what our people owe thee, he most of all."

"He was dear to my people also," answered Pocahontas.

"Hath Your Majesty heard how men speak of Captain Smith in the Colony?"

asked Lady De La Ware. "My brother who is still at Jamestown wrote me that one of the colonists regretting the great Captain's departure said of him:

"What shall I say of him but thus we lost him, that in all his proceedings made justice his first guide, and experience his second, ever hating baseness, sloth, pride, and indignity more than any dangers; that never allowed more for himself than his soldiers with him; that upon no danger would send them where he would not lead them himself; that would never see us want what he either had or could get us; that would rather want than borrow, or starve than not pay; that loved action more than words, and hated falsehood and covetousness more than death; whose adventures were our lives, and whose loss our death.'"

"Tell me of thy long voyage," then questioned her majesty; and seating herself, made room for Pocahontas beside her, while Lady De La Ware moved off to talk with one of the ladies. "I do not see how men, and more especially women, dare trust themselves for so long on the sea.

When I had been married by proxy to my lord, the King, I tried to go by ship from Denmark to Scotland, but the tempests were so fierce that we had to put in to Norway, scarce saving our lives; and thither came my gracious lord, against the prayers of his councillors who tried to dissuade him from venturing his precious safety in winter storms. Oh! I have no love of the sea."

"I did not fear it," said Pocahontas, "but I thought it would never end.

Had I been alone, though, without my husband and my child"--then, not knowing that court etiquette did not sanction the changing the subject of conversation by any one but the sovereign, she asked: "And how many children hast thou?"

Queen Anne was pleased with her naturalness and told her of her son and daughter and of the wonderful Prince Henry whom she had lost.

While they sat talking about their children as quietly as two plain housewives, there was a commotion at the end of the hall. The pages seemed very excited and uncertain what they ought to do. However, they could not have prevented if they would, and into the hall, clad in his long mantle, moccasins and with his headdress of feathers, strode Uttamatomakkin. Pocahontas, looking up, saw that he was examining eagerly all the furnishings of the hall and then his gaze was bent upon the Queen.

"Is yon the squaw of the great white werowance?" he asked, "and is this their ceremonial lodge? I have already beheld the King and he is a weak little creature whom any child at Werowocomoco could knock down."

"Who is he, and what doth he say?" asked the Queen, who was delighted at his strange appearance.

"It is one of my people, Madame, and he wishes to know if thou art indeed the Queen that he may tell of thee when he returneth to Wingandacoa." She did not think it wise to repeat the rest of his remarks.

The Queen, whose curiosity was great in regard to this strange race from overseas of whom she had heard so many tales, beckoned to Uttamatomakkin to come closer. The Indian walked stolidly to the dais where she stood.

"What is this mantle made of?" asked the sovereign, taking up an end of the painted and embroidered deerskin robe and rubbing it critically between her fingers.

Uttamatomakkin, thinking this was the English form of salutation and not intending to be outdone in politeness, caught hold of Queen Anne's velvet skirt, and to the accompaniment of little shrieks of dismay from the ladies-in-waiting, fingered it in the same manner.

"That must thou not do," remonstrated Pocahontas, trying not to laugh; but Uttamatomakkin grunted:

"Why should I not do what a squaw doth?"

The Queen recovered her equanimity and in sign of her good will unfastened a golden brooch and pinned it on the Indian's broad shoulder.

Then the chief broke off from his girdle a string of wampum, and before any one realized what he intended doing, he had fastened it to a pearl pin on the Queen's bodice.

"I see I cannot get the better of him. Lady Rebecca," laughed her Majesty; "but ask him what he doth with yon long stick."

The pages, whose interest in this savage overcame for the moment their habit of etiquette, had approached little by little towards the end of the hall where he stood. They watched eagerly and with a certain dread of the unknown while he took from his pouch a white stick and his knife from his girdle. The stick, they saw, was covered with tiny nicks; and the Indian, looking from one person to another, made many more marks on the wand.

"What is it thou dost, Uttamatomakkin?" asked Pocahontas.

"The werowance, thy father, told me to mark and let him know when I return how many white folk there were in this land. I made a cut for each one I counted at first, but my stick is all but covered now and the Powhatan will not know how the palefaces swarm here like bees in a hollow tree."

Pocahontas repeated to the Queen what he had said, and her Majesty was greatly amused.

"But thou dost not plan to return to Virginia for a long; time yet?" she asked.

"Much I like thy land, and its pleasant folk," answered Pocahontas as she rose to go. "But the time draweth near for us to set sail westward again. Farewell."

Then, accompanied by Lady De La Ware and Uttamatomakkin, she left the audience chamber.

"The Lady Rebecca," said the Queen to her ladies when the curtains had fallen behind Pocahontas, "is one of the gentlest ladies England hath ever welcomed."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Decorative]