"Hast thou forgiven me, my uncle?" she asked as they sat down to a feast
of the delicious little fish she always begged for when she visited him,
and to steaks of bear meat; "hast thou forgiven the arrow I shot at thee
last popanow?"

"I will remember naught unpleasant against thee, little kinswoman," he
replied as he drank his cup of walnut milk.

"Indeed I am ashamed of my foolishness," continued his niece. "I was but
a child then."

"And now?--it is but a few moons ago."

"But see how I grow, as the maize after a rain storm. Soon they will say
I am ready for suitors."

"And whom wilt thou choose, Pocahontas?"

"I do not know. I have no thoughts for that yet."

"What then are thy thoughts of?"

"Of everything, of flowers and beasts, dancing and playing, of wars and
ceremonies, of the new son of old Wansutis, of Nautauquas's new bow, of
necklaces and earrings, of old stories and new songs--and of to-morrow's
bathing."

"Fear not that thou hast yet left thy childhood behind thee," said her
uncle.