On the morrow morning we must go over the river, i.e. Connecticut, to
meet with King Philip. Two canoes full they had carried over; the next
turn I myself was to go. But as my foot was upon the canoe to step in
there was a sudden outcry among them, and I must step back, and instead
of going over the river, I must go four or five miles up the river
farther northward. Some of the Indians ran one way, and some another.
The cause of this rout was, as I thought, their espying some English
scouts, who were thereabout. In this travel up the river about noon the
company made a stop, and sat down; some to eat, and others to rest them.
As I sat amongst them, musing of things past, my son Joseph unexpectedly
came to me. We asked of each other's welfare, bemoaning our doleful
condition, and the change that had come upon us. We had husband and
father, and children, and sisters, and friends, and relations, and
house, and home, and many comforts of this life: but now we may say, as
Job, "Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked shall I return:
the Lord gave, the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name of the
Lord." I asked him whether he would read. He told me he earnestly
desired it, I gave him my Bible, and he lighted upon that comfortable
Scripture "I shall not die but live, and declare the works of the Lord:
the Lord hath chastened me sore yet he hath not given me over to death"
(Psalm 118.17-18). "Look here, mother," says he, "did you read this?"
And here I may take occasion to mention one principal ground of my
setting forth these lines: even as the psalmist says, to declare
the works of the Lord, and His wonderful power in carrying us along,
preserving us in the wilderness, while under the enemy's hand, and
returning of us in safety again. And His goodness in bringing to my
hand so many comfortable and suitable scriptures in my distress. But to
return, we traveled on till night; and in the morning, we must go over
the river to Philip's crew. When I was in the canoe I could not but be
amazed at the numerous crew of pagans that were on the bank on the other
side. When I came ashore, they gathered all about me, I sitting alone in
the midst. I observed they asked one another questions, and laughed, and
rejoiced over their gains and victories. Then my heart began to fail:
and I fell aweeping, which was the first time to my remembrance, that
I wept before them. Although I had met with so much affliction, and my
heart was many times ready to break, yet could I not shed one tear in
their sight; but rather had been all this while in a maze, and like one
astonished. But now I may say as Psalm 137.1, "By the Rivers of Babylon,
there we sate down: yea, we wept when we remembered Zion." There one
of them asked me why I wept. I could hardly tell what to say: Yet I
answered, they would kill me. "No," said he, "none will hurt you." Then
came one of them and gave me two spoonfuls of meal to comfort me, and
another gave me half a pint of peas; which was more worth than many
bushels at another time. Then I went to see King Philip. He bade me
come in and sit down, and asked me whether I would smoke it (a usual
compliment nowadays amongst saints and sinners) but this no way suited
me. For though I had formerly used tobacco, yet I had left it ever since
I was first taken. It seems to be a bait the devil lays to make men
lose their precious time. I remember with shame how formerly, when I
had taken two or three pipes, I was presently ready for another, such a
bewitching thing it is. But I thank God, He has now given me power over
it; surely there are many who may be better employed than to lie sucking
a stinking tobacco-pipe.
Now the Indians gather their forces to go against Northampton. Over
night one went about yelling and hooting to give notice of the design.
Whereupon they fell to boiling of ground nuts, and parching of corn (as
many as had it) for their provision; and in the morning away they went.
During my abode in this place, Philip spake to me to make a shirt for
his boy, which I did, for which he gave me a shilling. I offered the
money to my master, but he bade me keep it; and with it I bought a piece
of horse flesh. Afterwards he asked me to make a cap for his boy, for
which he invited me to dinner. I went, and he gave me a pancake, about
as big as two fingers. It was made of parched wheat, beaten, and fried
in bear's grease, but I thought I never tasted pleasanter meat in my
life. There was a squaw who spake to me to make a shirt for her sannup,
for which she gave me a piece of bear. Another asked me to knit a pair
of stockings, for which she gave me a quart of peas. I boiled my peas
and bear together, and invited my master and mistress to dinner; but the
proud gossip, because I served them both in one dish, would eat nothing,
except one bit that he gave her upon the point of his knife. Hearing
that my son was come to this place, I went to see him, and found him
lying flat upon the ground. I asked him how he could sleep so? He
answered me that he was not asleep, but at prayer; and lay so, that they
might not observe what he was doing. I pray God he may remember these
things now he is returned in safety. At this place (the sun now getting
higher) what with the beams and heat of the sun, and the smoke of the
wigwams, I thought I should have been blind. I could scarce discern one
wigwam from another. There was here one Mary Thurston of Medfield, who
seeing how it was with me, lent me a hat to wear; but as soon as I was
gone, the squaw (who owned that Mary Thurston) came running after me,
and got it away again. Here was the squaw that gave me one spoonful
of meal. I put it in my pocket to keep it safe. Yet notwithstanding,
somebody stole it, but put five Indian corns in the room of it; which
corns were the greatest provisions I had in my travel for one day.
The Indians returning from Northampton, brought with them some horses,
and sheep, and other things which they had taken; I desired them that
they would carry me to Albany upon one of those horses, and sell me for
powder: for so they had sometimes discoursed. I was utterly hopeless of
getting home on foot, the way that I came. I could hardly bear to think
of the many weary steps I had taken, to come to this place.