She was a strangely beautiful little figure as she stood there, one foot raised as if to step forward, but resting still on the root of a great tree that rose some distance out of the ground. She wore a robe or mantle of fur, for it was only May, and the Indians are never in a hurry to change their few articles of clothing; besides, it had been the gift of her brother, whom she had loved dearly. The mantle was loosely girded, and fell low on her shoulders, over which masses of dark hair fell in dusky profusion. Her dark eyes were full of wonder at seeing Virginia, and at her strange position. Both looked at each other for a moment, wondering who the other could be. Then the Indian child sprang forward like a young deer, and threw herself on the ground by Virginia, and looked tenderly in her face, her great eyes full of pity, as she held out a garland of red flowers which she had been holding.
Virginia took it with a smile; but the child snatched it back, and bound it about Virginia’s head. Then she drew back, pointed to the wavy golden hair and blue eyes with a strange look of awe, and clasped her hands, and bowed very low. Virginia caught one of the brown hands. She said laughingly, “I am not a goddess or a spirit, I am only a girl. Who are you?”
The child did not now draw her hand away. She said in a pretty way, putting her head on one side, “It is Cleopatra, the daughter of Werowance Powhatan, the sister of Nantiquas, the bravest, strongest Indian who ever shot an arrow.” As she spoke, a bird-call sounded through the forest. She answered it almost exactly. There was a crackling and breaking among the bushes, and a young warrior stood before them.
“Does not the fairest little maid go to the Great Father, when all are gathered to see the mighty wonder which is like a linnet with a finch’s bill, the captive from Croatoan, with eyes from the sky and”-- But seeing Virginia, he stopped.
The sunlight peeping through the trees fell on Virginia’s hair till it shone like gold. They stood looking at each other for several moments. Then the Indian maid took Virginia’s hand and pressed it to her breast. Nantiquas at once did likewise, and then said, “The one with eyes from the sky belongs to the Spirit. Means it evil or good to the camp of the mighty Powhatan? He is a brave Werowance.” And he took his sister’s hand as she stood beside him.