The Settlers: A Tale of Virginia

  CHAPTER TEN.

  Oliver and the young girl were, in the mean time, eagerly endeavouringto understand each other. They had left the group and were seatedtogether on the bank of the stream. Some new ideas had evidently comeinto her mind; it seemed to flash upon her that she was of the same raceas the young paleface by her side. She had never known a father, shesaid, or mother, and the squaw who had more especially tended on her inher childhood had as tawny a skin as the rest of her tribe. Now andthen she talked with Oliver, but oftener sat with her finger on herbrow, lost in thought. After some time she began to understand hisquestions better than at first. She replied that she would try to findout what he wanted to know and tell him. Oliver felt himself everyinstant becoming more and more interested; he could not help thinking,as he watched her varying countenance, that she must be of his own race.Perhaps her name would assist him to discover the truth. He asked,looking up in her face, what she was called. "Manita," she answered,"does it sound pleasant in your ears?"

  "Very pleasant indeed," he replied, repeating it, "I shall remember itas long as I live."

  The old chief received the adventurers in a friendly manner, and toprove his good intentions, said that he would direct his people to buildwigwams for them on any spot they might choose. Roger replied that ashe and his people were fond of water, they should prefer encamping onthe bank of the river, where the rivulet ran into it; his true motivebeing that they should thus have only two sides to defend should they byany chance be attacked; while they might also, by building rafts,descend the stream into the main river and thus regain their ship.

  The whole of the population at once set to work to supply the wants ofthe white strangers, the men even being condescending enough to assist,though the women were chiefly employed in bringing the materials for thehuts and putting them up. The Englishmen, however, as soon as they sawtheir mode of proceeding, greatly lightened their labours. The rest ofthe men went out hunting, and before evening returned with a plentifulsupply of game. In a wonderfully short time a village had sprung up,affording ample accommodation in fine summer weather.

  After the Indians had left them, the young girl came fearlessly intotheir midst, bringing the fish she had caught as her present to Oliverand the two officers, for she at once distinguished them from the restof the men. She had then a further talk with Oliver; she inquiredwhether he would be willing to accompany her in her canoe up the stream,and as they would have a long way to go, he must assist in paddling, butno one else must accompany them, nor must the Indians or his own friendsknow where they had gone. There might be some danger, she confessed,though it was not such as to make her hesitate if she could serve hernew friends.

  Oliver, who liked the notion of the danger, replied that he wouldwillingly go.

  She advised him to sleep soundly and to be awake two hours before dawn,when he would find her with the canoe at the mouth of the stream,beneath a high bank, from which he could easily step on board withoutbeing seen. "I will tell you more when we are away," she added, "but ifany one is awake and asks where you are going, you can let themunderstand that you are about to fish in the stream, and my people willnot be surprised, as it is my chief occupation. I have no pleasure inworking with the squaws, who have little love for me, because I am thefavourite of my grandfather, who allows me to do what I like."

  Such, in substance, was what the young girl said to Oliver. He promisedfaithfully to obey her injunctions, and to be ready to accompany her atthe time she had fixed on. He had some difficulty in going to sleep forthinking of the expedition he was to make on the morrow, but he atlength succeeded in dropping off. After sleeping for some time heopened his eyes, and feeling broad awake, crept out of the hut, thinkingthat it was time to set out; but as he could see the sentries at theirposts--for Roger judged it wise to place men on the watch lest theIndians might play them false--he waited till the one next him had movedto the end of his beat, and then keeping under the shade of the huts,stole down towards the river's bank. Moving on cautiously, he soonreached the spot at which the girl had told him to wait for her.Sitting down, he gazed at the stream which rippled by in front of him,ere it joined the broad river on his right. The murmuring of the wateras it sounded in his ears soon had the not unusual effect of sending himoff again to sleep. He awoke with a start on hearing a gentle voicecalling to him. Rubbing his eyes as he looked round, he saw the shadowyform of the maiden standing up in her canoe, just below his feet.Forgetting its frail structure, he was about to leap into it, when she,observing his intention, exclaimed in a louder voice than she wouldotherwise have used--

  "Stay, stay, or you will break through the canoe, and put a stop to ourexpedition."

  Oliver, taking her hand, which she extended to him, stepped carefullyinto the canoe, and seated himself at her bidding. As he did so, sheturned the canoe away from the bank, and the next instant they were inthe broader river.

  "We will first steer down the stream," she whispered, "and then cross tothe opposite side, lest any one should have seen us. Take the paddleyou will find at your feet."

  Oliver looked towards the shore, but could see no one, and felttherefore satisfied that they were not watched.

  "It is well," observed Manita; "we may therefore the sooner proceed upthe stream."

  In another minute they were paddling away, Manita dexterously steeringthe canoe. Having got so far from the village that their voices couldnot be heard, Oliver inquired the object of the expedition.

  "You wish to gain news of a white man who has been long in thiscountry?" answered Manita; "when I heard what you said, I recollectedthat two moons ago I had gone on an expedition up this river with twoother girls somewhat older than myself. They took me with them to steerwhile they paddled. Their object was to run away from those they didnot love, and to hide in the forest till they could return with safety.The river, though not very wide, continues on far, far away; and wepaddled on all day; and not till night did we come to the end of ourvoyage. They secured the canoe beneath an overhanging tree, whoseboughs afforded us shelter while we slept. At daylight, leaping out ofthe canoe, with their basket of provisions, and telling me to take itback, but not to say where they had gone, they ran off into the forest.This I had no fancy for doing--not that I should have been punished--butI liked not to be deceived, and wished to know what they were about. Iaccordingly, instead of doing as they had bid me, followed their trail;though I kept at such a distance that they could not hear or see meshould they look back. On they went, till I began to grow weary andhungry; they stopped to eat, but I had forgotten to bring provisionswith me, not supposing that they would go so far. I lay concealed closeto them, till I heard them get up and go on again; then I knew that theymust be intending to go much further. Fortunately they had left somefruit and a piece of corn-cake, which had slipped out of one of theirbaskets. I ate it as I went along, afraid of getting far behind them.

  "Leaving the forest, they went over hills and down valleys, and up otherhills; and I had great difficulty in concealing myself--indeed, had theynot hurried on without looking back, they must have discovered me. Theynow entered another forest; they were getting farther and farther fromme, and I was becoming more and more weary. I was still trying toovertake them, when I felt a sharp pain in my foot--a thorn had piercedit, and sinking to the ground, I knew not what happened. How long I hadthus lain I could not tell, when opening my eyes I saw a tall man,dressed in skins, but his face was fairer than that of any Indian I hadever beheld; his hair light and long; and on his head he wore a coveringof straw. He cast a kind look at me, but I saw that he was as muchastonished as I was at seeing him. Stooping down, he spoke some wordswhich I did not understand; he then addressed me in Indian, and asked mewho I was, and whence I had come. I told him at once that I was thegrand-daughter of Oncagua, and that I was following some girls of thetribe who had run away, begging him to tell me if he knew where theywere gone. He replied that they were safe with those by whom they would
be better treated than they were by their own people. My foot painingme while he was speaking, I groaned, and he stooped down and pulled outthe thorn, when he bound up the wound with some leaves, fastening themon with the fibres of a tree; then, seeing that I could not walk, hetook me up in his arms and carried me to a dwelling larger than any Ihad ever before seen. It was on the borders of the forest, surroundedby a garden and corn-field; close to it, at a little distance was alarge Indian village.

  "He asked me if I would be content to remain there till the wound in myfoot was healed. I felt sure that he would treat me kindly, though Iwanted to go back to Oncagua, who would be mourning for me.

  "To this the white man did not object, though he said that he shouldhave wished me to remain with him. He watched over me with the greatestcare, and in three days my foot was well; and though I did not learnthat which I wanted to know--what had become of my companions--I wishedto go back to my grandfather. I told the strange white man this, and hewould not stop me, he said, though he was loth to part with me. I, too,was grieved to part with him, for he had been very kind, and told mewonderful things about the great God who rules the world, and One whowas punished instead of man, that man's sins might be forgiven, and thathe might be made friends with God, and go to live with him in the sky.And he told me much more, but I could not understand it.

  "When he found how much I wished to go back he said that he would gowith me as far as the river, where I had left my canoe; that he shouldlike to see me safely to my grandfather, but that he was bound by anoath to the chief with whom he lived not to go beyond the river, andthat he could not break that oath, though it cost him so much. He hadnot allowed any of the people in the village to see me all this time, ashe was afraid that they might prevent my going away. He set off withme, therefore, very early in the morning, and as I knew the way I hadcome from the place where he found me, I was able to lead him directlyto the canoe. He was very sad at parting from me, and sighed much, andmade me promise that I would come back to him again if I could. I foundthe canoe safe, as no one had passed that way. He asked me if I was notafraid of remaining by myself, but with a laugh I told him no; that Ihad often been out in the forest alone; that I would sleep in the canoethat night, and be away by dawn in the morning. Still he seemed verysorry to let me go, as he wanted to tell me more of the wonderful thingsabout which he had spoken, and the happy country of spirits to whichgood men go. He said, therefore, that he would not leave me till he hadseen me begin my voyage. We lighted a fire, therefore, and cooked somebirds which we had shot as we came along, and then when it was time togo to sleep, while I lay down in my canoe, he climbed up into a treeabove me, and lay down among the thick branches, so that he could watchme.

  "It was just daylight when I heard his voice telling me that it would betime for me to begin my voyage, after I had had some more food. He thenkneeling down, prayed to his God to take care of me, and blessed me; andthen kissing my brow, helped to force the canoe out into the stream. AsI turned my head several times I saw him still standing on the bankwatching me, till I could see him no longer. As the current was withme, I got back early in the day, before my grandfather and the other menwho had gone out hunting had come back. None of the squaws dared to askwhere I had been, nor whether any other girls had accompanied me; so Iwent into my grandfather's hut, and waited till he had come back.

  "When he appeared, he was too glad to see me to be angry; indeed, henever has been angry with me since I can remember, but has looked uponme as above every one else in the tribe, so that I can come and go as Ilike. I would not say where I had been all that day, but the next Itold him of my long voyage up the river, how I had hurt my foot in thewoods, and had been helped by the strange white man. On hearing this,he replied that the white man must be a wicked magician; that it was heprobably who had enticed the other girls away; and that, perhaps, if Iwent back, he would kill and eat me. I knew that this was not true, orwhy had he not done so at first, had he wished it?

  "Since then, I have been longing to go back to see the white man; but Ifound that a watch was kept on me. When I heard you, however, inquiringfor a white man, I at once thought that the stranger I had seen must bethe one you were in search of, and I resolved to help you to find him,being assured that he is no magician."

  "I have great hopes that he is the very man we are in search of,"exclaimed Oliver, after Manita had finished her narrative, which tookmuch longer time to give than it has to describe, seeing that she had torepeat it in a variety of ways before she was satisfied that herlistener understood what she said. She had brought a good supply ofprovisions, and as Oliver hinted that he was getting very hungry,somewhere about noon she guided the canoe towards the bank, where theyrested for awhile, and ate their food. They then paddled on again withrenewed vigour. Manita complimented Oliver on the way in which hehandled his paddle, and remarked that they were getting on much fasterthan when she had gone up before. It was thus some time before eveningwhen she announced that they had arrived at the spot where she hadbefore landed. Having run the canoe close to the bank under a tree,they secured it, and stepped on shore.

  "We will take some provisions with us this time," she observed, "forthough I may kill some birds with my arrows, it will delay us to do so."

  They set off at once, and made good progress before sunset, when, atOliver's suggestion, they both climbed up into a tree, in which heformed a sort of platform, where she could sleep securely; he afterwardsmaking another for himself. They set off again at dawn, and Oliver,helping Manita over the rough hills, to which he, a Devonshire lad, waswell accustomed, they made good progress. At last the clearing Manitahad described was reached, and they saw before them the white manstanding in front of his dwelling.

  "There he is!" exclaimed Manita. "Oh, I am so glad to see him!" and shebounded on ahead of Oliver. The recluse, for such he seemed, welcomedManita affectionately, but his gaze was turned towards Oliver. "Who areyou, young sir?" he exclaimed, looking from one to the other of hisvisitors.

  "Oliver Dane, sir, from near Dartmouth, in Devonshire," he answered.

  The recluse appeared greatly agitated. "Speak, speak: with whom cameyou? when did you reach this distant land?" he asked.

  "I arrived here five days since, sir," replied Oliver, "in the_Rainbow_, commanded by Captain Layton, with Master Roger Layton, MasterVaughan Audley, and a company of twenty men."

  "Vaughan Audley!" exclaimed the recluse; "is he with you?"

  "He is with the rest of the party, thirty miles or more away down theriver," answered Oliver.

  "And Mistress Audley, and her daughter Lettice--can you give me tidingsof them?" continued the recluse, before Oliver had finished his reply.

  "I left; Mistress Audley and Lettice at James Town a week since,"answered Oliver; "but, alack! Gilbert and young Fenton were carried offby the Indians, and we have come up in search of them, as we have ofCaptain Audley; and, if I mistake not, sir, you are that verygentleman."

  "I am indeed so; I believed that I was long ago supposed to be dead,"answered Captain Audley; "or that search would have been made for me."

  Oliver then told him all he knew respecting the report brought home byBatten. "But how comes it that my son did not accompany Manita?"inquired Captain Audley.

  "She will tell you why she would only bring me," answered Oliver.Manita's reply seemed to satisfy him; he then made many eager inquiriesabout Gilbert, as to whom and by whom he had been carried off. Olivergave him all the information in his power. So interested had he been,that he had forgotten to invite the young travellers into his house; henow, however, did so, and placed before them an ample meal. Manitaseemed somewhat puzzled how to behave, but looking at Oliver sheimitated him very well. Their host frequently gazed at the youngpeople, as he plied Oliver further with questions.

  "When will you come with us, sir?" asked Oliver, after waiting for sometime; "Manita is, I know, in a hurry to get back, and all will be readyto welcome you when you arrive."


  "Alas! I cannot go thus far unless one who holds my pledge is ready toset me free," answered Captain Audley. "He may be willing to do so, orfear of the white man's power may induce him to release me."

  "I suppose, sir, you would not object to be carried off by force, if theIndians will not by fair means let you go free?" said Oliver.

  "As to that I shall make no answer, lad," replied Captain Audley; "Iwish by fair means alone to gain my liberty. I have, though, anothermotive for remaining: to search, with the aid of my Indian friends, formy boy Gilbert and his companions, who have been brought, you say, bytheir captors to this part of the country. I will therefore bid youreturn and invite the party to come up here. Their presence will, Ihope, have its effect."

  The recluse, or Captain Audley, for such it appeared that he was,continued looking at his young guests; suddenly turning to Oliver, heasked whether he had heard that he had a sister born some short timebefore the settlement was destroyed.

  "Yes," answered Oliver, "my mother had a little daughter named Virginia,the first child born in the settlement, who was, my grandfathersupposed, murdered with her and my father on that cruel day."

  "It may have been so," remarked Captain Audley, "but she may haveescaped; and the thought occurred to me when I first saw this littledamsel; for a child of white parents she undoubtedly is, though broughtup with Indian ways and manners; and when I saw you and her together andheard your name, judging by your age, and on examining yourcountenances, which strongly resemble each other, I at once becameimpressed with the idea, that she was no other than Virginia Dane, andtherefore your sister. There was no other child in the settlement soyoung as she must have been when it was attacked, and none so likely tohave had its life spared."

  Oliver looked upon Manita with still greater interest than before, andgiving her a kiss, told her what the white man had said, and asked herwhether she would wish to be his sister.

  "Yes, yes," she answered, with a look of pleasure; "and you will comeand live at our village, and go out fishing and hunting with me, andbecome some day chief of our tribe."

  Oliver tried to explain that it was much more fitting that she shouldcome and live among the English. At first she did not understand this,and doubted whether her grandfather would allow her to go. Oliver hadthen to explain that the old chief was not her grandfather; possibly,that he or his followers had murdered their parents, though for somereason he had saved her life. This seemed to make her waver; shepromised Oliver that she would consider the matter.

  "You are too weary to return at once, my young guests," observed CaptainAudley. "While you rest, I will go to the village that you see yonderand seek out the chief Wamsutah. I may be able to win him over toassist in our object. I trust by means of the influence I possess overhis mind, to induce him to aid in the recovery of my son Gilbert and hiscompanion. He possesses more power than any chief of the neighbouringtribes, Powhattan excepted; and should he learn where they are to befound, he will not fail to obtain their release."

  Saying this, Captain Audley took his departure, leaving Oliver andManita in his dwelling. A considerable time passed, however, before hereturned. Manita, overcome with fatigue, had fallen asleep in a cornerof the room, wrapped up in her cloak. Oliver was too anxious to closehis eyes. As he watched the features of the young girl, he felt moreand more convinced that the surmise of Captain Audley was correct, andhe thought of the happiness it would be to restore her to civilisedlife, and of the blessing she might prove to their aged grandfather,whom she might tend with a watchful care far better than he was able tobestow. At last he too dropped off asleep. He was awakened by thereturn of their host.

  "Have you succeeded, sir?" he asked, eagerly.

  "I have news of the two lads, who are many hours' journey from this, inthe hands of a tribe, alas! at enmity with Wamsutah and his people. Icannot hope, consequently, to communicate with them without muchdifficulty, and must wait an opportunity, which I pray God to afford me.I would have you, therefore, after resting here tonight, hasten back toyour people; tell my son Vaughan how I long to embrace him, but thatstern necessity compels me to remain here awhile, till the chief permitsme to depart with honour, and I can bring back the two missing ones. Ido not advise Vaughan and Master Layton to come up here, lest theyshould create suspicion in the minds of the Indians. Let them be ontheir guard against treachery, which this people look upon more as avirtue than a crime; and if they can obtain canoes from the chiefOncagua, or can contrive to build them, let them by all means returndown the river, which they will find navigable to the mouth. They wouldthus avoid many dangers through which they before unconsciously passed,and regain the ship far more speedily than by land."

  Oliver promised to deliver the messages he had received from CaptainAudley, who the next morning told him that he had provided two Indianlads, his pupils, in whom he could implicitly trust to escort him andManita to the canoe. Setting off, they safely reached it, and anxiousto arrive at the village before night, at once paddled briskly down thestream. It was dark, however, before they neared their destination, andManita proposed that they should land at the English village. As theyapproached they were hailed by Ben Tarbox from the bank, to whom Oliverreplied.

  "Thankful to hear your voice, Master Dane," said Ben, as he helped themout of the canoe, which he drew up on the bank. "We thought you werelost, and the old chief has been in a great taking about hisgranddaughter, accusing us of spiriting her away, and well-nigh creatinga breach of the peace."

  "We have not been on a fool's errand, Ben," answered Oliver. "I want tospeak to our commander without delay, wherever he is."

  "He and Master Audley are on foot, for we don't know at what moment thenatives may take it into their fickle heads to attack us," answered Ben."Here they come."

  Oliver, followed by Manita, hastened to meet Vaughan and Roger, and asfast he could pour out his words, he told them of his adventure.Vaughan, prompted by filial affection, was eager to set off to meet hisfather, but Oliver reminded him of the advice he had brought that theparty should remain at their present post, and Roger also giving hisopinion to the same effect, he agreed to wait further tidings. Theymight, however, be compelled to move for want of provisions, thoughtheir present stock would enable them to remain some days longer, but asmall portion having been exhausted. They had hopes, too, that whenOncagua should discover that Manita was safe, his confidence would berestored, and that he would be as ready as at first to supply them withfood. Both Vaughan and Roger agreed that the likeness between Manitaand Oliver was very great, and they had little doubt that she was reallyCaptain White's grandchild. Oliver declared that he had no doubt aboutthe matter, and already felt towards her as a brother for a sister. Sheby this time fully comprehended that she was of the white man's race,and when Vaughan asked her if she would go back to Oncagua, she burstinto tears.

  No, she replied; she would remain with her new brother. The chief wasgenerally kind, but he might keep her prisoner or send her off furtheraway, when she could not return to her brother.

  There might be truth in what the maiden said; and though they hoped, byher means, to restore a good understanding between themselves andOncagua, they would not deliver her up into his power. It was agreed,therefore, that she should remain in the village during the night.

  Oliver begged that he might go the next morning to the chief, and tellhim how matters had fallen out.

  "A brave thought," exclaimed Vaughan. "You shall go, and when the chiefsees you he will be convinced that you speak the truth."

  Next morning Oliver set out, with his sword by his side, which, young ashe was, he knew how to use; but without other arms. The Indians gazedat him as he walked fearlessly on till he reached the wigwam of thechief, who had just come forth. In the best language he could commandhe delivered his message, and then told him that he was the brother ofher whom he had so long nourished and protected, and that he came tothank him for the kindness he had shown her; that she wa
s now with herown people, who heartily desired to be the friends of Oncagua and histribe.

  The chief gazed at the bold youth with astonishment. "Does she remainwillingly with them, or do they keep her as a prisoner?" he asked.

  "It is of her own free will that she remains," answered Oliver.

  The chief sighed; "It is true that her parents were palefaces," he said,"but the heart of Oncagua yearns towards her, and he has ever regardedher as his child."

  "But our grandfather has no other descendants than us two, and his heartwill be made glad when he hears that the daughter of his only child isalive," replied Oliver; "it may be that Oncagua remembers the chief ofthe palefaces when they first settled at Roanoke, Massey White."

  "He was my friend, my brother," answered the old chief; "it was for hissake, in return for the kindness he did me, that I saved his grandchild,and would have saved her mother had I possessed the means of carryingher off. Though I shall grieve to lose the maiden, yet willingly will Isend her to him to cheer his declining years. Bring her to me; she neednot fear that I will detain her; but I will gaze at her once againbefore you take her away with you to your distant home. For her sakeyou and your companions may rest assured that Oncagua will remain, as hehas ever been, a friend to the palefaces."

  Highly satisfied with the result of his embassy, Oliver hastened back tothe camp. After due consultation Vaughan and Roger agreed to allowVirginia, if she was so minded, to accompany Oliver to the chief; shouldthey not do so, it might show want of confidence, and Oliver declaredthat he would die fighting for her sooner than allow her to be carriedoff. She at first hesitated, but when Oliver told her what the chiefhad said, she consented to accompany him. Holding each other fast bythe hand they set out, no one even addressing them till they reached thechief's wigwam. Oncagua stood at the entrance waiting for them; hegazed with a fond look at the young girl for some minutes withoutspeaking.

  "Do you leave me willingly?" he asked at length, in a tone of grief.She burst into tears. "Had I not found my white brother, I would haveremained with you, and tended you in sickness and old age," she said,"but now I desire to go where he goes, and to dwell with those of my owncolour."

  "Go, my child, go, the Great Spirit will have it so--and when you arefar away, Oncagua will dream that you are happy with those of your ownkindred and race." As he spoke, he entered his wigwam; quicklyreturning with a small package carefully done up in opossum skin. "Takethis with you," he said, "it contains the clothes you wore and the chainyou bore round your neck as an infant; it will prove to your grandfatherthat you are indeed his daughter's child." Taking the maiden in hisarms, he pressed her to his heart, and then placing her hand in that ofOliver, told him to hasten back to his friends, as if he doubted his ownresolution to give her up. The rest of the people, who had collectedfrom all sides, gazed on the paleface maiden and her brother, withglances of admiration and awe, regarding them as beings of a superiornature to themselves.

  Vaughan and Roger were on the watch to welcome them back; they both feltthat they could not sufficiently thank the young maiden for the serviceshe had done them, and they wished to express to Oliver their sense ofhis courage and boldness.

  "I have done nothing that I should be thanked," said Virginia, for byher rightful name they now called her; "I heard that you were in searchof a white man, and knowing where one was to be found, I took my brotherto him."

  The object of their expedition, however, was not yet accomplished; theyknew that Captain Audley was alive, but he and their two friends werestill a long way off, and it might be a hard matter to reach them. Twodays passed by, and they were becoming impatient, for as their stock ofprovisions was now growing short, they must depend on the Indians fortheir supply, and should they refuse it, they would be entirely in theirpower. Virginia and Oliver offered to make another expedition up theriver to communicate with Captain Audley, but Vaughan considered himselfbound to abide by his father's commands. Roger proposed that theyshould instead borrow the maiden's canoe, which still lay on the bank,and send down to the ship. Oliver at once offered to go, and suggestedthat Ben Tarbox, who knew well how to handle a canoe, should be asked toaccompany him.

  "Of course I will," answered Ben, "if it was six times as far. We'llfind our way down easily enough, and if the navigation is clear, we'llcome back in the long-boat, and bring a good store of provision andarms, and a couple of swivels in the bows in case we fall in with anyIndians likely to give us a taste of their arrows."

  It was of course necessary to consult Virginia about taking her canoe.On hearing that Oliver was going, she insisted on going also; sheunderstood better than any one else how to manage the canoe, and she waseager to see the big ship and the good captain who had known her father.So determined was she that Vaughan and Roger had to yield, believingthat with so careful a man as Tarbox she would not be exposed to moredanger than by remaining with them. As soon as the arrangement wasmade, she hastened to the canoe, which she examined thoroughly, coveringthe seams afresh with a gummy substance, a lump of which she producedfrom the bow. She also found a third paddle, which, she observed, wouldbe for the sailor's use. As the day was far spent, it was necessary towait till the next morning. Virginia was up before daybreak, andsummoning Oliver and Ben, announced that it was time to start, that theymight not be seen by the Indians, who might perchance wish to stop them.Vaughan and Roger with some of the men, came down to see them off.Ben, who sat in the bow, had his musket by his side; Oliver paddled nextto him, and Virginia, who seemed to consider herself as captain of thecraft, sat in the stern and steered. Their friends uttering a prayerfor their safety, they pushed off from the bank, and commenced theirvoyage.