than heart’s blood went by, at once too slow, too swift.

At last, his part in the solemn mockery played, he held out the pipe to me. “The sky will fall, and the rivers run dry, and the birds cease to sing,” he said, “before the smoke of the calumet fades from the land.”

I took the symbol of peace, and smoked it as silently and soberly — ay, and as slowly — as he had done before me, then laid it leisurely aside and held out my hand. “My eyes have been holden,” I told him, “but now I see plainly the deep graves of the hatchets and the drifting of the peace smoke through the forest. Let Opechancanough come to Jamestown to smoke of the Englishman’s uppowoc, and to receive rich presents, — a red robe like his brother Powhatan’s,