It was Nantauquas, the Lady Rebekah's brother, and the one Indian--saving always his dead sister--that was ever to my liking; a savage, indeed, but a savage as brave and chivalrous, as courteous and truthful, as a Christian knight.
Rolfe sprang from his horse, and advancing to meet the young chief embraced him.

Nantauquas had been much with his sister during those her happy days at Varina, before she went with Rolfe that ill-fated voyage to England, and Rolfe loved him for her sake and for his own.

"I thought you at Orapax, Nantauquas!" he exclaimed.
"I was there, my brother," said the Indian, and his voice was sweet, deep, and grave, like that of his sister.

"But Opechancanough would go to Uttamussac, to the temple and the dead kings.

I lead his war parties now, and I came with him.