So Nautauquas, knife in hand and breathing deeply, looked on while
Pocahontas, speaking words in a low voice, moved nearer and nearer the
wildcat. Taking her knife from her girdle, she began to cut through the
thongs that held him. One paw was now loose and yet the beast did not
move to touch his rescuer. Then when the other thongs were loose and it
was free, it moved off slowly and painfully into the woods as if no
human beings were there.

Nautauquas breathed a sigh of relief.

"It is wonderful, Matoaka, yet I pray thee test thy strange power not
too far. I am glad though the poor beast got away. I like not to see
them suffer. I shoot and kill for food and for skins, but I kill at
once."

They now climbed up the ravine again and started off in the direction of
Werowocomoco.

The night was already far advanced and Pocahontas was growing drowsier
and drowsier. Nautauquas, seeing that she was almost asleep, took hold
of her arm and made her lean on him. As they approached the spot where
he had first come across her dancing, they noticed a human figure
crouched on the ground. Even in the moonlight, grown dimmer as dawn
approached, he could see that it was an old squaw. Pocahontas recognized
old Wansutis, a gatherer of herbs and roots.

"What dost thou here, Wansutis?" she questioned.

"He! the little princess," cried the old woman, scowling up at them,