"I was given as a slave to another princess - Tragabizzanda - in the City of Constantinople; then I was sent to Tartary, where I was most cruelly used. One day I fell upon the Bashaw of Nolbrits, who ill-treated me, and I slew him. I clothed myself in his garments and escaped into the desert and finally after many strange adventures I reached again a land where I had friends. Then -"

"Tell me of the princess," interrupted Pocahontas. "Did she ill-use thee also?"

"Nay, in truth, she was all kindness to me," replied Smith, his eye kindling at the remembrance of the Turkish lady who had aided him. "She was very beautiful, with lovely garments and rich jewels," he added, thinking to interest the girl with descriptions of her finery, "and I owe her many thanks."

"Was she more beautiful than I?" asked Pocahontas, her brows knitting angrily.

"She was very different," the amused Englishman answered. It was scarcely possible for him to consider these savages as being real human creatures, to be compared even with the Turks; yet he did not wish to hurt the feelings of one who had done so much for him. "She was a grown woman," he added, "and therefore it boots not to compare her with the child thou art."

"I am no child. I am a woman!" cried Pocahontas, springing up in a fury and rushed off like a whirlwind towards the forest.

John Smith looked after her in dismay. If he had turned his only friend against him then was he indeed in a sad plight!