WINNING A BATTLE, A WIFE, AND A FRIEND
Upon the advice of Massasoit, the Iroquois had set up dummies to draw
the musket-fire of the enemy; also most of their young men had been
placed in ambush outside the walls. These, though few in number as
compared with the advancing host of Hurons, sprang to their feet with
frightful yells and rushed towards the place marked by the smoke of the
now empty muskets. They seemed doomed to certain destruction, and the
Hurons calmly awaited their coming. All at once, and without warning, a
flight of arrows from the rear brought a score of the invaders to the
ground, and at the same moment the woods behind them seemed alive with
yelling foemen.
For a few minutes the bewildered Hurons, thus entrapped, fought
desperately. Then the three white men, who were objects of Massasoit's
especial vengeance, were killed while hurriedly endeavoring to reload
their muskets. As they fell their savage allies, who had until now
regarded them as invincible, broke into a panic-stricken flight, each
man endeavoring only to save himself. After them raced Massasoit and
his warriors, together with the jubilant Iroquois, and many and fierce
were the hand-to-hand conflicts that took place in the dim forest
coverts that day. At its close, when the wearied but exultant victors
gathered once more at the wildly rejoicing village, their trophies of
scalps and prisoners outnumbered their combined forces.
The following week was devoted to the wildest forms of savage
festivity, and the rejoicings were redoubled near its close by the
arrival of a runner from the west, bringing the great news that the
other invading force under Champlain had been defeated and driven back
by the Onondagas and Oneidas.
In all this time of feasting Massasoit was the hero and central figure.
Not only had he saved the Maqua village and probably the whole tribe
from destruction, but, on that day of fighting, he had proved himself
the foremost warrior of his people and had brought in more Huron
scalps than any other.
He found no difficulty in forming a compact with the Iroquois on behalf
of his own people, by which both were bound not to cross the Shatemuc
except for friendly visits. Thus our young chieftain would have been
supremely happy but for one thing, and that was his treatment at the
hands of Aeana.
This girl, who now seemed the most beautiful and desirable of all
earthly creatures, behaved to him in a manner so strange that he could
in no wise account for it. Not only did she refuse to grant him an
interview, but she studiously avoided meeting him, and went no longer
with the other women to the stream for water. Thus he had not been able
to exchange a single word with her, and as the time for his departure
drew near he was in despair. In his distress he sought out Otshata, as
he had done once before, and, pouring out his heart, asked her what he
should do.
Otshata laughed in his face. "What fools men be!" she said. "Dost thou
not remember, Massasoit, the time when she bade thee fetch water?"
"Well do I remember."
"And thou performed the service?"
"Truly, I did, even as she bade me."
"And she scorned the offering when it was brought to her?"
"Even so, and taunted me with the name of 'squaw.'"
"Remembering that, art thou still at a loss to know why she now refuses
to meet thee?"
"To my confusion, I am," replied the puzzled youth.
At this Otshata laughed again long and heartily; but at length she
asked,--
"Didst thou ever know a woman to accept friendship with a slave when a
master might be had?"
Then, still laughing, she ran away, leaving the young man to ponder her
words.
As a result of this conversation, Massasoit announced that he and his
warriors would depart for their own country on the morrow, and at
daylight of the next morning they had disappeared. That day Aeana,
heavy-hearted and with lagging step, went with the other women
for water. As she bent over the stream an exclamation from one of
her companions caused her to look up and directly into the eyes of
Massasoit, who stood on the opposite bank.
With a shrill cry of dismay, Aeana turned and fled towards the village;
but, swiftly as she ran, Massasoit overtook her ere she had covered
half the distance. Seizing her in his arms, he picked her up and,
despite her struggles, bore her swiftly away. On the edge of the wood
he paused to utter a far-carrying yell of triumph, and then, still
bearing his precious burden, he disappeared amid the leafy shadows.
But his defiant challenge was answered, and half a dozen young
Iroquois, all of whom were aspirants for the hand of the arrow-maker's
beautiful daughter, dashed forth in hot pursuit. This race for a bride
was over a forest course something more than a mile in length. At its
farther end was the Shatemuc and a waiting canoe containing a single
occupant. As Massasoit gained this and it was shoved off, the foremost
of his pursuers was so close that he fell into the water in a vain
effort to grasp the elusive craft.
Beyond the river the Iroquois might not pass by the terms of their
recent treaty, and thus on its farther side, Massasoit felt his prize
to be as secure as though he already had her at Montaup.
As they stepped out on the land that acknowledged the son of
Longfeather to be its ruler, Aeana regarded the bold youth with eyes
that laughed even through their tears, and said, "I hate you; but if
you had not done it, then should I have despised you forever."
So Massasoit won his bride, and in far-away Montaup, beside the great
salt waters that bathe the rising sun, no woman led a happier life than
did the daughter of Kaweras.
After this several years were passed in peaceful content by those
New England tribes owning the rule of Massasoit. With his superior
knowledge of the world he was able to teach them many things that
caused them to prosper as never before. Only was he worried by the
Narragansetts, who, while sullenly admitting his authority, awaited
eagerly an opportunity to renounce and defy it.
In the mean time Aeana had presented the Peacemaker with two sons, the
younger of whom, named Metacomet, was to become famous in after-years
as King Philip.
With all his peace and apparent security Massasoit had one ever-present
fear, and it was of the white man. He had a knowledge greater than any
of his people concerning the number and power of these dwellers beyond
the sea, and he dreaded lest they should seek to obtain a foothold in
his country, as they had already done both on the St. Lawrence and the
James. As one measure of precaution against this he issued orders to
every New England tribe that they should hold no intercourse with any
whites attempting to trade on the coast. So determined was he to carry
out this policy that when an unfortunate French trading vessel was
wrecked on a shore of Massachusetts Bay, he caused her to be burned,
and commanded that all survivors of her crew be put to death.
Holding these views, Massasoit became very angry when it was reported
to him that the Narragansetts, in defiance of his authority, were
actively trading with an English ship that had appeared on their
coast, and he at once determined to make an example that should be
remembered.
A runner was despatched to his trusted ally Sassacus, whose country
lay beyond that of the Narragansetts, ordering the Pequots to advance
from the west until they should meet Massasoit coming from the opposite
direction. Then, gathering a strong force from the tribes near at hand,
the Peacemaker set forth for the scene of unlawful trading.
So demoralized were the Narragansetts by the simultaneous appearance of
two powerful war-parties within their borders that they offered only a
slight resistance before fleeing to their palisaded stronghold, where
they anxiously awaited the expected attack.
In the mean time the captain of the English vessel, which was snugly
anchored in the mouth of a small river, where he had been carrying on a
brisk and most profitable trade with the Indians, was disgusted to have
it suddenly cease. For days a fleet of canoes had surrounded his ship.
Now not one was to be seen, nor could any of the natives be discovered
on shore. His recent great success had been largely due to the fact
that he had on board an English-speaking Indian, through whom all
negotiations had been conducted. When a whole day had passed without
change in the situation the captain consulted with this Indian, and
asked what he supposed had become of the natives.
"They be fearful to come off since they have learn that you steal red
men for slaves," was the answer.
"Ho, ho! Is that all? But think you, Squanto, that they have any furs
left?"
"Me think they keep back many of the best."
"By the Lord Harry! Then must we go to them, since they are afraid to
come to us. Boat away, there! And, Squanto, you may come too if you
will promise to make no attempt at escape."
"These be not my people," replied the Indian, evasively.
"That's so. I picked you up at a great distance from here. But never
mind. If you serve me truly perhaps I will take you back there some
day. Attempt to play me false, though, and I will kill you as I would
a rat. Tumble in, then, and let us hie ashore."
It was a strong boat's crew and heavily armed that thus made a landing
in search of the trade which no longer came to their ship, and they
followed a plainly marked trail leading from the beach to the place
where had been an Indian village. Now it was deserted and void of life,
though their guide announced that it had been occupied as recently as a
few hours before.
While the new-comers were prowling about with hopes of discovering
something in the way of plunder, their attention was distracted by a
column of smoke rising in the direction of their boat. They had left
it hauled partially out of the water and in charge of two well-armed
men. Now, hastening back, they were panic-stricken by the discovery
that the boat was in flames. It was also badly crushed, as though it
had been lifted bodily and dropped on a ledge of sharp rocks. Worst of
all, it contained the dead bodies of those who had been left on guard.
The weapons of both men were missing, and they had been scalped but not
otherwise mutilated.
Taking advantage of the confusion following this discovery, the Indian
guide dove into a nearby thicket and disappeared. A minute later,
while the whites were huddled about their burning boat attempting to
extinguish the flames, a great flight of arrows, that seemed to come
from every direction at once, instantly killed more than half their
number. Then came a rush of yelling savages, and in another minute but
one man was left alive. He was wounded, but his life had been spared by
the express order of Massasoit.
The Indian guide had been made prisoner, bound, and left to himself;
but now that all was over, the young leader, ordering his warriors to
remain behind, went to him. Stooping, he severed the prisoner's bonds
and assisted him to his feet. Then gazing steadily at him, he cried in
a voice that trembled with emotion,--
"Tasquanto, my brother, dost thou not remember Massasoit?"