TO THE PALM LANDS
The ship that was to deport the Indians to the Palm Lands, or the
Islands, sailed away, probably from Plymouth. Among the prisoners was
Runneymarsh. He had known the princess and Metacomet well, and he
pitied the little prince who never came to his own.
There is a legend that the princess leaped overboard and committed
suicide when she saw Mt. Hope, where Philip perished, and where was the
ancient burying-ground of the Indian kings, sinking in the sea.
This story is merely poetic fancy, as far as we can determine. But with
what a heavy heart she must have seen the shores of Massachusetts Bay
and the Narragansett fade from view.
"Will they never let us come back again?" asked Little Metacomet.
"We cannot tell; after what has happened to us, we cannot tell
anything. We would never wish to come back to the land of the dead;
I would never wish to live amid the oaks of Pokonoket if you could
not rule; I would not wish to see you the king of the dead. The Great
Spirit will guide us as he guides the birds that go to the Palm
Islands. We are following the birds."
They were taken to Bermuda, where all is sunshine, flowers and birds,
and were given over to a planter, probably on a sugar plantation or in
the indigo fields.
* * * * *
Many weeks had passed when, one day, Susan heard a strange report from
Boston. It was that old Runneymarsh had returned.
"Let's go to him, Roger," said she, "and see if the prince still
remembers us."
They went to Boston by the way of Natick, where the praying Indians had
perished. The bell rang hollow there. Father Eliot was gone, and his
preaching places were deserted, though the time would soon come when
the people could read his Indian Bible.
They found old Runneymarsh on one of the islands in the harbor. He
described to them the Palm Islands; their glowing plantations, oranges,
pineapples, bananas and many fruits.
"And Little Metacomet, does he still remember us?" asked Roger.
"His one dream is of you. He hopes that you will bring him back again
to the oak of his fathers."
"That can never be," said Susan.
"I wish it might be so," said Roger, "but what did he say of us?"
"He said whatever may come, fire, water, toil, hunger, abuse, torture,
that his heart will always be true to those who loved him in the green
groves of Swansea. 'The Lady of the Haystack will always be close to my
memory,' he said. 'Oh but she had a good heart!'"
"Did he send any message to me?" asked Roger.
"Yes."
"What was it?"
"He said--'Tell Roger, if you ever see him, that there are groves of
palms here, but I would give them all, if I could, for one pine; and
that there are thousands of parrots here, but I would be glad again if
I could hear a little quail of the woods say once more, 'Bob-White.'"
THE END
* * * * *
_Books By_
Hezekiah Butterworth
LITTLE SKY-HIGH
12mo., cloth, with frontispiece, 35c.
The adventures of a Chinese boy, of good
birth, in a foreign land.
LITTLE METACOMET
12mo., cloth, with illustrations, 60c. net
Postage, 10c.
The life of an Indian boy, son of King
Philip, in the woods of New England.
LITTLE ARTHUR'S
HISTORY OF ROME
12mo., illustrated, 60c and $1.25
A popular story of this great nation's men
and deeds, for young people.
THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO.
NEW YORK