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diff --git a/44165-h/44165-h.htm b/44165-h/44165-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..26ed954 --- /dev/null +++ b/44165-h/44165-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10626 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Soldier Rigdale, by Beulah Marie Dix. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + + .maintitle {font-size: 200%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;} + .copyright {text-align: center; font-size: 70%;} + .adtitle2 {font-size: 150%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;} + .author {font-size: 120%; text-align: center;} + + .poem {margin-left: 30%; text-align: left;} + + img {border: 0;} + .tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +hr.chap {width: 65%} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} /* page numbers */ + + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold; font-size: 90%;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 1em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.figright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 1em; + margin-bottom: + 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 0; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.drop-cap { text-align: justify; + text-indent: 0em; +} +.drop-cap:first-letter +{ + float: left; + margin: 0.15em 0.1em 0em 0em; + font-size: 250%; + line-height:0.5em; +} +@media handheld +{ + .drop-cap:first-letter + { + float: none; + margin: 0; + font-size: 100%; + } +} + + + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44165 ***</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 525px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="525" height="800" alt="cover" /> +</div> +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[i]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class='maintitle'>SOLDIER RIGDALE</div> +<hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[ii]</a></span></p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 145px;"> +<img src="images/i_002.jpg" width="145" height="48" alt="emblem" /> +</div> +<hr class="chap" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 320px;"><a id="frontispiece"></a> +<img src="images/i_004.jpg" width="320" height="500" alt="Indian walking through village of English" /> +<div class="caption">"As if he knew the place and held he had the right to come there."</div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[iii]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h1>Soldier Rigdale</h1> + +<div class='center'><b><big>·</big></b>HOW HE SAILED IN THE "MAYFLOWER"<b><big>·</big></b><br /> +<br /> +<b><big>·</big></b>AND HOW HE SERVED MILES STANDISH<b><big>·</big></b><br /> +<br /><br /><br /> + +BY<br /> +<br /> +<span class='author'>Beulah Marie Dix</span><br /> +<small>AUTHOR OF "HUGH GWYETH: A ROUNDHEAD CAVALIER"</small><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<i>WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY REGINALD B. BIRCH</i><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<b>New York</b><br /> +THE MACMILLAN COMPANY<br /> +<small>LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., <span class="smcap">Ltd.</span></small><br /> +1899<br /> +<br /> +<i><small>All rights reserved</small></i><br /> +</div> +<hr class="chap" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[iv]</a></span></p> + + + + +<div class='copyright'> +<span class="smcap">Copyright, 1899,<br /> +By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.</span><br /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /> +<i>Norwood Press<br /> +J. S. Cushing & Co.—Berwick & Smith<br /> +Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.</i><br /> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>Contents</h2> + + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align="center"><br />CHAPTER I</td> +<td align="right">Page</td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">Playing with Powder</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="center"><br />CHAPTER II</td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Name of Miles</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_17">17</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="center"><br />CHAPTER III</td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">Thievish Harbor</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="center"><br />CHAPTER IV</td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">Hewers of Wood and Drawers of Water</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_45">45</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="center"><br />CHAPTER V</td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">News from the Shore</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_61">61</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="center"><br />CHAPTER VI</td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Going Landward</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_74">74</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="center"><br />CHAPTER VII</td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Man of the Family</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_81">81</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="center"><br />CHAPTER VIII</td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">In the Time of the Sickness</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_95">95</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="center"><br />CHAPTER IX</td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">Master Hopkins's Guest</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_108">108</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="center"><br />CHAPTER X</td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Lords of the Soil</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_125">125</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[vi]</a></span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="center"><br />CHAPTER XI</td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">When the Good Ship Sailed</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_141">141</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="center"><br />CHAPTER XII</td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Sowing of the Fields</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_156">156</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="center"><br />CHAPTER XIII</td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Two Edwards</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_171">171</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="center"><br />CHAPTER XIV</td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">A Mighty Resolution</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_187">187</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="center"><br />CHAPTER XV</td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">In the Southward Country</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_202">202</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="center"><br />CHAPTER XVI</td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">The House of Bondage</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_217">217</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="center"><br />CHAPTER XVII</td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">How they kept the Sabbath</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_228">228</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="center"><br />CHAPTER XVIII</td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">At Nauset Village</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_243">243</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="center"><br />CHAPTER XIX</td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">Fallen among Friends</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_257">257</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="center"><br />CHAPTER XX</td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">A Son of Perdition</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_270">270</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="center"><br />CHAPTER XXI</td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">Between Man and Man</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_283">283</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="center"><br />CHAPTER XXII</td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Bearer of Tidings</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_296">296</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="center"><br />CHAPTER XXIII</td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">The Captain's Soldier</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_311">311</a></td> +</tr> +</table></div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>List of Illustrations</h2> + + + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations"> +<tr><td align="left">"As if he knew the place, and held he had the right to come there" (p. 111)</td> +<td align="right"><i><a href="#frontispiece">Frontispiece</a></i></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td> +<td align="right">Opposite Page</td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">"With his arm up to shut out the glare of the lanterns"</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_14">14</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">"Dolly plaited a fold of her apron between her fingers"</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">"'Do you like to do it, Captain Standish?'"</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_102">102</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">"Saw the two young men close in combat"</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_184">184</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">"'Oh, Miles, 'tis the savages come for us!'"</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_214">214</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">"Miles made out the figures of the men in the shallop"</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_254">254</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left">"The breath came gripingly in his throat"</td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Page_308">308</a></td> +</tr> +</table></div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> + + + + +<div class='adtitle2'>SOLDIER RIGDALE</div> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER I<br /> + +<small>PLAYING WITH POWDER</small></h2> + + +<div class='drop-cap'>WITH the approach of sunset, the wind +that all day had ruffled the waves to +white edges died down, till there was +left on the water only a long, heaving motion, +that rudely swayed the old ship <i>Mayflower</i>. One +moment from her broad deck could be seen the +steel-like gleam of the fresh-water pond on the +distant beach; the next moment, as the ship rolled +between the waves, the shore presented nothing but +solid sand dunes and shrubby pine trees. But +always overhead the sky, athwart which the yards, +bulging with the furled sails, were raking, remained +the same,—a level reach of thick gray that, as twilight +drew on, seemed to brood closer over earth +and ocean.</div> + +<p>How those yards seesawed up and down with +the rolling of the ship, and the mastheads, they +dipped too, quite as if they might pitch down +upon a body! Miles Rigdale, standing with legs<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> +craftily planted and head thrown well back, stared +and stared at their measured movement till, dizzy +with the feeling that the great spars were tottering +loose, he was glad to straighten his aching neck +once more.</p> + +<p>"Did you see a goose, all roasted, flying for your +mouth?" Francis Billington called from the waist +of the ship, where he perched jauntily upon the +bulwark.</p> + +<p>Sauntering from his place near the companion +way, Miles halted beside the speaker; not that he +had a great liking for Francis Billington, but he +was a sociable lad, who must talk to some one, and, +as the bleak air had driven the women and children +into the great cabin, while the men were absent,—the +leaders conferring in the roundhouse and the +lesser men seeking firewood on shore,—he could +for the moment find no comrade save young Billington.</p> + +<p>The latter was an unprepossessing lad, stunted +and small for his fourteen years, with elfish eyes +which he now turned sharply on Miles. "I take +it, Jack Cooke is ill, and Giles Hopkins has packed +you about your business, that you've come to spend +the time with me," he suggested disagreeably.</p> + +<p>"I take it, maybe you've spoke the truth," Miles +answered unruffled, as he propped his chin on his +fists and braced his elbows against the bulwark.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> + +<p>Gazing thus northward, he could see all about +him green hills, wooded to the water's edge, now +higher, now lower, as the ship mounted upon the +waves, and the strip of sand beach, off which rode +the bobbing longboat. "I wish my father had +taken me with him when they went to fetch the +wood," Miles broke out at that sight; "it's weeks +and weeks since I set foot on land."</p> + +<p>"Pooh! I've been ashore thrice already," bragged +Francis, setting one arm akimbo, though he took +good care to grip the shrouds tightly with the other +hand, for the bulwark was not the safest of perches.</p> + +<p>Miles tried to swallow down his envy, but he +could not help saying, with a touch of triumph: +"Anyhow, you saw no savages, and my father saw +'em when he went exploring with Captain Standish,—six +Indians and a dog, he saw."</p> + +<p>"So did my father," Francis sought to crush +him; but Miles, declaring sudden truce, was asking, +with civil interest: "You did not see any lions +when you went ashore, did you, Francis?"</p> + +<p>"N—no, but Ned Dotey thought he heard one +roar the other night."</p> + +<p>"Father would not take our mastiff Trug on land +lest they kill him. Trug would give 'em a fight for +it, though. But he couldn't fight the serpents; nobody +could. Did you know, Francie, there's a +serpent here in America,—they call it the rattlesnake,—and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> +if it but breathe on you, you die +presently."</p> + +<p>"How do you know?" asked Francis, awed, but +incredulous.</p> + +<p>"My father read it in a book about plantations +in Virginia. Maybe the serpents lie close in cold +weather, though, so you did not see them." Miles +was silent a long instant, while he gazed fixedly at +the mysterious shore yonder, where all these rarities +were to be met with. "The trees do not look like +our English trees," he said, half to himself, "but +I'd fain go in among them. Perhaps you found +conies there, Francis? There were a plenty of them +on the common at home; Trug and I used to chase +them, and 'twas brave sport."</p> + +<p>"Mayhap if you had Trug with you, you could +start some here," suggested Francis. "Tell you, +Miles, you beg your father let you go ashore to-morrow, +and I'll go too, and we'll seek for conies +together. Will you?"</p> + +<p>"'Tis no use," Miles answered, scowling straight +ahead.</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Father says I cannot go," the boy blurted out. +"I answered him saucily this morning, and he said +for that I should not stir foot off the ship for a +week. I think—I think he might let me go +ashore. Along the first I was coughing, so my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> +mother said I must not venture in the boat; and +then my sister Dolly was ailing, and I must stay to +bear her company; and then it stormed; and now +he will not let me go. And I am so weary of this +ship!"</p> + +<p>"I'd not bear such usage from any man," Francis +boasted grandly. "If 'twere my daddy treated me +so harshly, I'd tell him to his face 'a' was a sour old +curmudgeon, and—"</p> + +<p>"You need not talk so of my father," Miles +interrupted sullenly, though he held his eyes fixed +upon the shore line, not on the speaker. It was +hard, while he looked toward the land of wonders, +still unknown to him, to think quite kindly of the +father who had arbitrarily shut him out from the +enjoyment of it. "If you miscall him so again, +Francis, I'll fight you," he added, conscience-stricken, +in the hope of making amends for the +disloyalty of his thoughts.</p> + +<p>Francis bent his sharp eyes on his companion, +but did not take up the challenge; indeed, a less +discreet lad than he might have considered an instant +before coming to fisticuffs with Miles Rigdale. +The boy, for his scant eleven years, was of a proper +height, with straight back and sturdy limbs, a stocky, +yet not clumsy, little figure, that promised a vigorous +stature when he came to man's age. His +deeply tanned face, that was lightly sprinkled with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +brown freckles, was square and resolute; his blue +eyes were very level and honest; and his tousled +brown hair tumbled about his forehead in a way to +make more women than his mother think him a +bonny boy. For the rest, he was clad humbly +enough in doublet and breeches of dark gray frieze, +with long gray stockings and stout shoes; he wore +neither cloak nor hat, and his clenched fists, that +now rested firmly on the bulwark, were bare and +chapped red by the wind.</p> + +<p>It was the sight of the aggressive fists that made +Francis use a different tone: "You're a pretty +comrade, Miles, to fly out at me so."</p> + +<p>"You may leave my father in peace, then."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you'd wish me to leave you in peace +too. I know Goodman Rigdale has forbid his little +son speak to me."</p> + +<p>"I'm still speaking to you, am I not?" answered +Miles, and bent to adjust one of his shoes, so +Francis could not see his face; those last words +had hit dangerously near.</p> + +<p>"But you'll show me a clean pair of heels very +speedily," sneered his companion, "for yonder the +boat with your good father is putting off from shore, +and when he comes—"</p> + +<p>"That's how the wind blows, is it?" struck in +a new voice close at hand. Looking over his +shoulder, Miles saw, lounging on a coil of rope by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +the foremast, a certain Edward Lister, one of the +servants of Master Stephen Hopkins. He was a +slim, dark fellow of some twenty years, whom Miles +admired for a tall swaggerer, because he always wore +his red cap rakishly on one side, and, since the rules +about lighting tobacco aboard ship were strict, was +ever chewing at a long pine splinter instead of a +pipe. "So if your father catch you with Master +Billington here, he'll swinge you soundly, eh, Miles +Rigdale?" he asked, with his mouth quite grave, +but a glancing mockery in his black eyes. "Better +show us how briskly you can run into the +cabin."</p> + +<p>Miles ostentatiously leaned his shoulders against +the bulwark and crossed one leg over the other, as +if he thought to finish the afternoon in that position. +Shifting round thus, his gaze travelled beyond his +companions to the high quarter-deck, where he +spied several men trudging forth from the roundhouse. +"Has the conference broken off?" he +asked, forgetting in his curiosity that he was angry +with both Francis and Ned Lister.</p> + +<p>"How else?" the latter answered dryly, and, +rising to his feet, sauntered over to the two boys. +"D'ye think they would confer without the great +Master Hopkins? And he quit the roundhouse +long since. Wearied out, doubtless, with such vigorous +labor. It has taken them an hour to determine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +no more than to send forth a gang to-morrow +and try a third time for a place where we may +settle."</p> + +<p>"Another exploration? Is my father to go on +it, do you know?" Miles questioned.</p> + +<p>"They won't let any but the great folk have a +hand therein; daddy said 'twould be so," commented +Francis.</p> + +<p>"True enough," scoffed Lister; "the Governor, +and Captain Standish, Master Bradford, Master +Winslow, Master Hopkins, and—the worshipful +Master Edward Dotey."</p> + +<p>"Aha!" jeered Francis. "They're taking old +Hopkins's other man Dotey along, and Ned Lister +is jealous of him."</p> + +<p>"Hold your tongue!" cried Lister, catching the +lad by the scruff of the neck, "else I'll heave you +over the bulwark."</p> + +<p>Francis twisted up his face and opened his mouth +in a prodigious, dry-eyed howl, which would have +set Miles laughing, had he not been intent just +then upon the approaching boat. He could see her +visibly growing larger, as she bounded nearer and +nearer over the swell of the water, and each moment +he recalled more distinctly in what terms his father +had forbidden him have to do with "that Satanish +brood of the Billingtons." Miles shuffled one +foot uneasily; perhaps he really ought to go into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +the cabin now and see how his sick friend, Jack +Cooke, was faring.</p> + +<p>He turned away and had idled a few paces along +the deck, when Francis, who had been suffered wrest +out of Lister's hold, called after him: "Ah, Miles +daren't let his father find him with me. I knew so."</p> + +<p>"It's not so, neither," Miles flung back, and +made a great show of stopping by the mainmast, +where he stood gazing down the open hatchway +which led to those cabins that were in the depth of +the hold. "Aren't you coming with me, Francis?" +he asked presently.</p> + +<p>The other, quite undeceived, came snickering up +to him: "Have no fear; I'll take myself off ere +your father come. Sure, you're a stout-hearted one, +Miles."</p> + +<p>"You're a pretty fellow to talk of courage," Miles +was goaded into replying, "after the way you +howled out but now. You might have known Ned +Lister'd do you no hurt."</p> + +<p>"No doubt you'd not have been afraid," his tormentor +scoffed. "You're not afraid of anybody +save your father."</p> + +<p>"So are you, if you told the truth of it," Miles +took him up. "You'd not have Goodman Billington +hear you vaporing so for all the silver crowns +in England, and if Goodwife Billington came by +and heard you, she'd cuff your ears smartly."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p> + +<p>Francis's sallow face reddened. "Much she +would!" he said angrily. "I'll show you I be no +milksop to stand in fear of my father and mother. +Maybe now you think I'd not dare to—" he +paused, his eyes half-closed, while he tried to concoct +some peculiarly wicked sounding project—"to +take some of my father's gunpowder and make +squibs?" he concluded, with a triumphant look at +his companion.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't think you dare," Miles answered +stolidly.</p> + +<p>"Come, then, I'll show you," the other cried, +and headed for the companion way that descended +beneath the quarter-deck.</p> + +<p>Four steps down, and, passing through a narrow +door, they entered into the stifle and stir of +the "great" or main cabin. On every hand murmured +the ceaseless confusion that always filled the +straitened space: underfoot, sometimes with fretful +wrangling, children were at play; women were passing +to and from their cabins, or dressing their meat +for the evening meal at the long table; upon the +benches several sick men, whose heavy voices were +audible through the shriller tones of those about +them, sat together in talk. Over all, the brightness +from the narrow skylights fell wanly, so the corners +of the low apartment were dusky with thick shadows, +and the dim outline of the great timbers overhead,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +and the slits of doors into the double tier of little +cabins adjoining, could only just be made out.</p> + +<p>Miles was glad of the half light, for he knew well +that if his mother should chance to be there and see +him with Francis, she would make a pretext of some +task to call him to her. He caught sight of her +now, as she stood by the table in speech with Constance +Hopkins, and, almost treading on Francis's +heels in his hurry, he slipped into the Billingtons' +cabin.</p> + +<p>It was the veriest closet of a room in which he +found himself, black, save for a glint of sickly light +that crept through an opening in the door, by which +Miles contrived presently to discern the unmade +bunk along the wall, the mattress, still spread out +upon the floor, and the iron kettle and other vague +household stuff that littered untidily the narrow +space. Comparing it with his father's ordered +cabin, he recalled his mother's indignant comment +to Mistress Hopkins, that Ellen Billington was a +poor, thriftless body, who would better be tidying +her quarters than gossiping with her neighbors.</p> + +<p>"Now you'll see what I dare, Master Miles," +Francis broke in, as, with much panting, he dragged +from beneath the bunk a small keg. "This is gunpowder, +if you be not afraid of the sight of it."</p> + +<p>"It does not take much courage to touch gunpowder," +said Miles, bending forward from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +bunk, where he had seated himself, and plunging +his fist into the keg. "Let's see your squibs, +Francis."</p> + +<p>Young Billington stretched himself on his stomach +and, grubbing once more beneath the bunk, drew +out a fistful of rustling papers. "These are leaves +I tore from a jest book of daddy's," he bragged. +"No doubt you won't believe I durst."</p> + +<p>Miles made no reply; after all, he scarcely cared +to prolong his differences with a boy who had such +a delightful plaything as a keg of powder. "Let +me make a squib too, Francie," he begged, squatting +down on the mattress beside his host.</p> + +<p>For a space there was silence, while, with some +hard breathing, the two, guided more by touch than +by any sight they had in the dark cabin, labored industriously. +Blacker and blacker it grew all round +them, till they struck their hands together as they +groped in the keg, when a ray of faint yellow light, +that must fall from a lantern in the great cabin, stole +through the door.</p> + +<p>Now they could see how they were faring at their +work, and Francis, who had laid his handfuls of +powder on the papers and folded them quite dexterously, +laughed in provoking fashion at Miles, who, +new to this game, had spilt the powder and failed to +make his papers stay folded. "It's all very well," +the boy retorted irritably, as one of his painfully<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +made squibs, bursting open, scattered powder between +his knees, "but after you've made these +mighty squibs what else do you do?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I'll light a bit of match," said Francis, +scrambling to his feet, "and then we'll touch 'em off."</p> + +<p>Miles jumped up delightedly, and, reasoning that +a really satisfactory squib should be set off in darkness, +took from the bunk a blanket which he fastened +by two nails across the opening in the door.</p> + +<p>Meantime Francis had struck his father's flint +and steel together, till at length he succeeded in +catching a spark upon the piece of "match" or +twisted tow steeped in saltpetre. Miles could see +the little red point shimmering in the dark and, +picking up the squibs, he moved warily toward it. +"Gi' me a squib," came Francis's voice, close at his +feet. More accustomed to the dimness now, Miles +could make out the boy's crouching figure and saw +him lean far forward with one arm outstretched to +touch off the powder.</p> + +<p>Then he felt Francis crowd up against his knees, +and instinctively he drew back so his own body was +pressed against the wall. Out of the dark on the +floor, right at his feet, started a little flicker of +flame which, with a sudden whishing sound, leaped +up, a broad, bluish puff of fire, almost in his eyes; +then, before the exclamation had left his lips, died +sizzling away.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That was brave, wasn't it?" spoke Francis, in +a rather quavering voice. "You can touch off one +now."</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 322px;"> +<img src="images/i_025.jpg" width="322" height="500" alt="" /> +<div class="caption">"With his arm up to shut out the glare of the lanterns."</div> +</div> + +<p>Miles eagerly seized the match and, setting it to +a squib, flung the twisted paper a pace from him. +The same whiz, burst, sizzle, but this time he lost +the keen pleasure in a sudden hideous thought that, +even as the squib left his hand, came over him. +"Francis," he cried, before the flame died down, +"is this safe, think you? Say the powder in the +keg took fire?"</p> + +<p>"Pshaw! You're afraid; I knew you'd be," replied +Francis, his own courage quite restored.</p> + +<p>Thereupon Miles lit a third squib to show his +fearlessness, and then together they set off the remaining +two. "That's the last, and I've no more +paper," sighed Francis, and Miles echoed the sigh.</p> + +<p>They were sitting now on the edge of the bunk; +the cabin seemed very black to their eyes, still dazzled +with the last flash, and the air was hot and heavy +with the pungent odor of burnt powder. Miles +sniffed it contentedly. "This is what 'twould be +like in a great battle," he began. "Sometime I mean +to be a soldier and have a musket. Did you ever +shoot with a musket, Francis?"</p> + +<p>"No, but I've shot off a fowling piece," answered +the other. He clambered upon the bunk, groping +audibly in the dark, and presently dropped down<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +again beside his companion with something long and +slender and heavy in his arms. "Look you, Miles, +here's daddy's fowling piece now," he said exultantly. +"What say if I shoot her off?"</p> + +<p>"'Twould make a mighty big noise in so small a +room," Miles answered longingly.</p> + +<p>"Give me the match, then."</p> + +<p>Later Miles remembered clearly how Francis had +sprung to his feet at the word, but after that all +was a confusion of dire noises,—a rending crash, +then a sound of women screaming, of children crying, +and of men running with clattering footsteps +across the great cabin. Through it all he felt the +weight of Francis Billington, who had pitched back +against him, and he saw a little spurt of yellow fire +that licked along the boards. Though he did not +remember snatching a blanket from the bunk, one +was in his hand, and he was down upon the floor, +smothering the flames that would press out beyond +the edges. A powder keg was somewhere near, he +recollected, and he beat out one little jet of flame +with his hand, that smarted fiercely.</p> + +<p>It all must have taken a long, long time, but still +the women screamed, and the heavy footsteps had +only just reached the door. The latch rattled beneath +a rough hand, the light streamed into the +cabin, and Miles dropped back against the bunk, +with his arm up to shut out the glare of the lanterns,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +and the sight, too, of the angry faces in the doorway. +"Francis, Francis," he found himself saying, in a +poor whisper that he realized was not meant for +Francis Billington's ears, "we must 'a' killed some +one."</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER II<br /> + +<small>THE NAME OF MILES</small></h2> + + +<div class='drop-cap'>IN the great cabin two huge, smoky lanterns, +that swayed from the beams overhead, cast +blending white circles in the middle space, +while the corners still remained dusky. Somewhere, +there in the dark, a woman was crying +hysterically, and others, calmer, but with startled, +white faces, were standing beyond the group of men, +who were gathered round the door of the Billingtons' +cabin. Miles saw about him all the faces, +terrified or menacing, but it was blurrily, as in a +dream. He kept telling himself it was all a dream, +an ugly dream, and presently he would awake to +find he had never gone with Francis Billington, and +very glad he would be to awake so.</div> + +<p>But the grasp on his neck—it was big John +Alden, the cooper from Southampton, who had +dragged him out into the great cabin—was real, +and so, he now found, were the faces of the men +who confronted him. The Elder, William Brewster, +with his gray hair, and grave Governor Carver, +he noted among them, with a hopeless feeling that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +all the majesty of the company was come thither to +judge him. Close by, he heard Francis Billington +crying, with tearful sobs, not dry howls alone, but +Miles dropped his shamed eyes to the floor of the +cabin and did not look at his companion. He +heard Goodman Billington's rough voice, thick with +abuse and threats against his son, and then he +heard the Elder cut him short: "Peace now, friend. +Maybe the lad is hurt."</p> + +<p>Just then, from within the Billingtons' cabin, +whence a light smoke still drifted, spoke a quick, +deep voice: "Come you in and lend a hand, Alden. +There is work for two needs despatch. The floor +here is over shoe thick with powder."</p> + +<p>"Ay, Captain Standish," the young man answered +promptly, and loosed his hold on Miles's +collar.</p> + +<p>There was a little movement in the group of +men, and Master Stephen Hopkins, stepping closer +to the cabin door, peered in and spoke solemnly: +"A full keg of powder broke open! 'Tis by the +mercy of Heaven alone the ship was not blown into +atoms."</p> + +<p>"I did not have it in mind to blow up the ship," +Miles faltered, raising his eyes. "I did but touch +off a squib—because it would burn bravely." +There the words choked in his throat, for, a little +back from the other men, he caught sight of his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +father, and Goodman Rigdale's arms were folded, +his heavy brows drawn close together, and his lips, +beneath his beard, set in a way Miles knew of old. +"I did not mean it," he repeated huskily, and, gazing +at the floor again, began crushing a fold of his +doublet in his hand.</p> + +<p>About him there was questioning and answering, +he knew, and he heard Francis whimper: "'Twas +Miles. He touched off squibs, he did."</p> + +<p>"Squibs do not make such a noise as that we +heard," Governor Carver interrupted sternly.</p> + +<p>"'Twas daddy's fowling piece. Miles Rigdale +and I shot her off, and he—"</p> + +<p>"Let Miles Rigdale rest," the Elder admonished. +"Do you tell us of Francis Billington."</p> + +<p>Bit by bit a fairly accurate story was drawn from +the two boys, though by such slow and woful stages +that before it was ended Captain Miles Standish +and John Alden, with their hands all grimed with +powder, came out from the cabin. Miles stole a +fearful side-glance at the Low Country soldier, who, +being trained in the brutal discipline of the camps, +was likely to prove a harsher judge than the Elder +or the Governor, but, to his relief, he saw the Captain +halt beside Goodman Billington, to whom he +growled out some pithy advice as to the expediency +of keeping his powder covered up and out of reach +of mischievous hands.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span></p> + +<p>Miles took heart a little then, as much as he +could take heart while he knew Goodman Rigdale +was frowning in the background, and even ventured +to look up when he heard Elder Brewster say, in a +tone which a trace of amusement and much relief +made almost kindly: "Well, well, 'twas no Guy +Fawkes conspiracy, it seems, only the folly of two +scatter-brained lads. Your Excellency scarce will +set them in the bilboes?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, I leave it to their fathers to teach them +not to meddle with such tools in future," Governor +Carver answered gravely; and thereupon, with a +surly mutter or so from other fathers in the company +as to what the two culprits deserved to get, +the men scattered to weightier affairs.</p> + +<p>As the group thinned, Miles was left face to face +with his father, who, making a curt sign for him to +come after, led the way to the door of the cabin. +Miles felt queer and empty at the pit of his stomach, +and his fingers trembled as he began unhooking his +doublet, but he followed along bravely. His eyes +were still downcast, and, as he stepped, he counted +the planks in the flooring and tried to think of +nothing but their number.</p> + +<p>Out in the darkness of the forward deck his +father gave him such punishment as he looked for,—a +beating with a rope's end, so hard that Miles had +to set his teeth tight and clench his hands to keep<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +from crying. Once, in the midst, Goodman Rigdale +stayed his arm, and in the instant's cessation Miles, +standing in his shirt-sleeves, felt the wind from +across the harbor strike cold on his hot flesh, that +was quivering with the blows. "That is for that +you near destroyed the ship," his father spoke, +gravely and without anger. "Now I must flog +you for that you disobeyed me, and had to do +with one of those Billington imps."</p> + +<p>The second whipping ended, Miles huddled on +his doublet, stiffly and awkwardly, glad of the darkness +that hid his face. Goodman Rigdale was +speaking again: "And ere you lie down to-night, +my son, remember to give thanks unto God that +by His mercy He has preserved you from being +cast into His presence with the deaths of all that +are within this ship upon your soul."</p> + +<p>Miles did not quite follow the words, but, with +a sense that he was the chiefest of sinners, and with +a keen realization that his back and sides were +smarting, he gulped out an unsteady "Yes, sir," +and blindly fled away.</p> + +<p>Aft of the foremast, as he stumbled uncertainly, +he ran against a woman, and at once he knew it was +his mother. In an unformed way he was aware that +she had been waiting to comfort him, and at each +blow had suffered more than he. Her voice was +quavering now, though she tried hard to keep her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +everyday tone: "Come, come down to the cabin +now. Father has shot a bird, and I've made a broth +to our supper. Come, deary, it is turning chill here."</p> + +<p>Shaking off the hand she laid on his arm, Miles +broke away and ran to the mainmast, where the +hatchway yawned. Slipping and swinging on the +steep ladder, he descended headlong; he was not +going to his father's cabin, nor did he know whither +he was going, only that he wanted to be by himself. +On the orlop deck he halted an instant before passing +down into the hold; below, there would be +many people, while here, for the moment, he was +alone. He stood blinking at the dim lantern that +hung by the ladder, till slowly it grew blurry to his +eyes, and, raising his bent arm, he hid his face.</p> + +<p>It seemed only a moment before he heard someone +come tramping up from the hold, and felt a +hand on his shoulder. He was turned round; he +had to look up; and he saw, standing over him, +Master Hopkins, very grim and stern, as was his +wont. "I am glad to see these tears of repentance, +Miles Rigdale," he spoke severely.</p> + +<p>Miles wriggled out of his hold. "I am not +repentant," he cried. "I wish I <i>had</i> blown <i>you</i> up. +Now you can go bid my father flog me again." +With that he dodged the hand Hopkins put out +to detain him, and, jumping over some coils of +rope, scrambled away out of reach.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> + +<p>Clambering over the chests and kegs that were +placed upon the orlop, he paused only when he +reached the next cleared space, by the forward +hatchway that led to the gunroom. There it was +all dark, a comfortable, thick blackness, and, to +make it safer and lonelier, he crept under a table +that was stored among other household stuff.</p> + +<p>For a moment he sat panting, and listened to the +lap, lap of the waves upon the side of the ship and +to his own heavy breathing, but he heard no sound +of any one's pursuing him. Doubtless Master Hopkins +had gone away to tell every one that he was +crying and repentant, Miles tormented himself; no +matter, he was never coming out to be jeered at +and preached to; he would stay under the table +forever, and he would not shed another tear to +please them.</p> + +<p>So he sat, rigid and still, and each moment grew +more keenly aware that he was sore from his beating, +that his head ached, and his burnt hand throbbed, +and his heart was big with a great burden of shame. +Of a sudden, in the stillness and dark, he heard a sob. +Then he found it was himself, lying with his head +buried in his arms against the crosspiece that braced +the legs of the table, and crying helplessly.</p> + +<p>He had lost track of the minutes, but he had lain +there a long time, he knew, for his arms were numb +with the pressure of the crosspiece against them,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +and his throat ached with much sobbing, when he +caught the sound of a footstep on the planking of +the orlop. At the same moment, light beat against +his smarting eyelids, and, opening his eyes, he raised +his head to look.</p> + +<p>The edges of the table under which he crouched +were silhouetted blackly against the yellow lantern-glow, +which crept midway into his shelter. Following +with his eyes along the light, he could see +beyond the table the joinings of the planks of the +floor, a bit of the ladder that led to the main +deck, and by the ladder, in shadow as the lantern +was raised, the lower part of a man's body.</p> + +<p>Miles stared breathlessly at the commonplace +leather shoes and kersey breeches,—all the rest the +table hid from his view,—while he strove to hold +back a sob that was halfway up his throat. It +would out, but he tried to turn it into a sneeze, +which ended in a mournful, indefinable gurgle.</p> + +<p>Instantly the light of the lantern, swinging round, +swept almost into his face, and a deep voice commanded: +"Come out hither."</p> + +<p>Miles sat up, tense and braced. "Is it you, Captain +Standish?" he asked, in a small voice. Not +that, to his knowledge, Miles Standish had ever +hurt any one, but he was a brusque, peremptory +man, reputed of a fiery temper; it was for this, +probably, that Master Hopkins had sent him hither,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +as one fitted to deal out further punishment to such +a criminal as Miles Rigdale.</p> + +<p>"Come out, and you'll speedily find if 'tis I," +Standish's voice rejoined grimly.</p> + +<p>Miles rubbed his sleeve across his eyes, the rough +frieze hurting them rarely, then dubiously crept from +his shelter. The straight course was to crawl toward +the light, but to go that way would land him squarely +at the Captain's feet,—a last touch of ignominy that +he could not endure. So he scrambled painfully +over the crosspieces and round the table-legs, till he +came out upon the open floor the width of the table-top +from the enemy.</p> + +<p>"It's naught but you, is it?" the Captain greeted +him, and turned the lantern so the light fell full +upon him.</p> + +<p>The boy struggled hastily to his feet. "Ay, sir," +he nodded, without speaking or looking up.</p> + +<p>The other drew a step nearer. "You're one +of the knaves who tried to blow up the <i>Mayflower</i>, +are you not?" he questioned sternly. "Did you +steal down here to fire the magazine and finish the +work?"</p> + +<p>"I—I did not go for to blow up the ship, sir," +Miles pleaded, raising his eyes. With amazed relief, +he saw that, for all his gruff tone, the Captain +looked more amused than angry.</p> + +<p>Standish must have taken closer note of him, too,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> +for he asked abruptly: "You're John Rigdale's lad, +are you not?"</p> + +<p>"I am Miles Rigdale."</p> + +<p>The lantern was lowered suddenly. "My namesake, +are you? Do you not think, sirrah, you bear +too good a name to drag it into a powder-burning +matter such as this?"</p> + +<p>"I do not hold it a good name," Miles burst out. +"I would they had called me plain Jack."</p> + +<p>"Wherefore, pray you?"</p> + +<p>"Miles is no name at all," the boy hesitated, between +shyness and the desire to vent a long-standing +resentment. "It makes me think of the stone in our +village that said: 'Thirteen miles to London.'"</p> + +<p>"Tut, tut, lad! Have you no Latin?"</p> + +<p>Miles slipped one hand under the edge of the +table against which he leaned, and picked at a splinter +he found there, while he stammered: "N—no, sir. +There was no school in our village, and, had there +been, my father could not spare me from the farm. +I must help him, for I'm mighty strong for my +years," he added gravely. "And I never want to go +sit in a school, either. I am glad there will be no +schools here in the plantation, not till I'm a man and +can do as I will. I hold that is the best part of all in +planting a colony, except the lions and the savages."</p> + +<p>"And what do you think to do with the lions and +savages, Miles Rigdale?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Fight 'em, sir."</p> + +<p>Captain Standish chuckled softly in his beard. +"You'll fight 'em, eh? 'Tis a great pity, in truth, +no one has told you what name you bear. You +should know that Miles in the Latin tongue signifies +'a soldier.'"</p> + +<p>Miles forgot that his cheeks were tear-stained and +his eyes swollen, and looked up happily into the +speaker's face. "I am right glad of that," he announced. +"'Tis a good enough name, after all." +He was sorely tempted to ask the Captain if he had +been named that after he proved himself a soldier in +the wars, or if they named him first and he grew +to it afterward, but he concluded that would be over-bold.</p> + +<p>Though, after all, he began to doubt if Captain +Standish were such a terrible body. He looked +pleasant enough now, as he stood in the lantern light,—a +stocky, square-shouldered man of some six and +thirty years, with yellow-brown hair and beard, and +eyes so deep set under his brows Miles could not tell +their color. The linen bands at his neck and wrists +were small and plain, and along the sides of his +doublet of dark maroon kersey the rubbing of armor +had worn down the cloth. He was not so fine +a gentleman, doubtless, as young Master Edward +Winslow, but he looked the man of war, through +and through, and, moreover, he neither scolded nor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +preached at a small sinner; Miles began to be glad +in his heart that he bore the same name as the +Captain.</p> + +<p>"So, after all, you're content to be named 'Soldier' +Rigdale?" Standish suddenly read the expression +of his face.</p> + +<p>"'Tis a soldier that I mean to be," Miles confessed. +"I like the smell of powder."</p> + +<p>"So it seems," the Captain answered, in the dryest +possible tone, and then, as Miles's cheeks began +to burn, went on hastily: "Which was it, you or +the Billington lad, put out the fire? We found +the blanket on the floor of the cabin."</p> + +<p>"Mayhap 'twas I. I do not recall it clearly."</p> + +<p>The Captain reached out his hand, and, taking +Miles by a fold of the doublet-sleeve, lifted his arm. +"No doubt 'twas you," he said; "you've blistered +your hand here."</p> + +<p>"I know. It aches," Miles whispered, with a +sudden husky dropping of his voice.</p> + +<p>"You'd better go to your mother straightway +and ask her to put oil on it; that will soon draw +out the fire."</p> + +<p>"I can't," Miles gulped. "I can never go out +among the people again. When they all think I +tried to blow them up,—and when every one will +know I have been newly whipped. I shall stay +here forever." His voice died down as he spoke<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +the last: it did not sound manly, but uncommon +silly.</p> + +<p>"You'd get mighty hungry if you did," the soldier +answered him coolly. "You're going to your +mother now, my man. Run along with you. I've +to go on down into the gunroom, but I'll light you +up the ladder."</p> + +<p>Miles gave a tremulous gasp of resignation, and +scuffed slowly to the foot of the ladder, where he +paused and smeared the back of his hand across his +cheeks; then turned to his companion. "Captain +Standish," he hesitated; then, as it was the only +possible way of learning what he wished to know +before he showed himself among the company, he +blurted out desperately, "Will you tell me, is my +face clean?"</p> + +<p>Captain Standish looked down at him with a +funny expression in his eyes. "I think 'twill serve +in a half light, if you slip directly into your father's +cabin."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir," Miles answered; then added +hastily, "You see, there was something flew into +my eye, and one that did not know might think—I +had been crying."</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER III<br /> + +<small>THIEVISH HARBOR</small></h2> + + +<div class='drop-cap'>ONE sharp December afternoon, a week and +a day after the Pilgrim leaders went forth +the third time to seek a place for settlement, +Love Brewster and his little brother Wrestling +climbed down to the cabins beneath the main +deck to visit their playmate, Dolly Rigdale. The +cubby where Dolly and Miles and their father and +mother had lived during the two months of the +voyage over the sea and the five weeks of exploration +that followed, was a dim box of a place, but +the little boys liked to visit it, not only to talk with +Dolly, who was nearer their age than most of the +children in the company, but to see Trug and +Solomon.</div> + +<p>Trug was the big, grizzled mastiff, who had +guarded the house and the cattle faithfully for so +many years that even stern John Rigdale had not +the heart to leave him to strangers; and Solomon, +with the wise eyes of royal yellow, was the fat +house-cat, whom Dolly had insisted on bringing +with her to the new home.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If it had been my pet, 'twould 'a' had to bide +in England," Miles had told himself, in one bitter, +jealous moment, of which he was justly ashamed. +For, without question, Goodman Rigdale cared +equally for his two children, only he held Miles, +being a stubborn chip of manhood, needed frequent +beatings, such as the Scriptures enjoined on good +fathers to give their sons, whereas Dolly was just a +little wench, with gray eyes like her mother, so she +received very gentle whippings and triumphantly +lugged Solomon on shipboard.</p> + +<p>The sleek, striped creature lay beside her now, +for Dolly, still ailing with her cough, was resting on +the bunk beneath the blankets. Wrestling Brewster, +a big-eyed, silent child, sat by her, and, sorry +to tell, joined forces with the little girl in rumpling +poor Solomon's fur. "You are the best pussy," +Dolly purred meantime, and, either because of her +flattery or because the warm blankets were comfortable, +the cat made no movement to leave her.</p> + +<p>Ordinarily Miles sniffed at the conversation of +eight-year-olds, such as his sister, but this afternoon +he gladly lingered in the cabin, for the accomplishments +of the Brewster lads were amazing enough to +lift them to the rank of companions. Both could +jabber Dutch quite as fast as Miles could speak +English, and Love, the talkative one, could tell +wonderful stories of the queer Low Country city<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +of Leyden, where all his short life had been spent. +It was of Leyden he spoke now, sitting beside +Miles on the turned-up mattress, where at night +Goodman Rigdale and his son slept, and Miles, +with a question here and there to draw out what he +sought, listened again to the story of the Pilgrims.</p> + +<p>Love had good reason to know it well, for his +father, Elder Brewster, had been from the first one +of the leaders of the little company. He had given +all his substance to help the cause of that faith +which the bishops of the great Established Church +of England held it right to crush out; he had suffered +imprisonment for the sake of that faith; and +finally, that he and his friends might worship God +as they thought best, had gone into exile in Holland.</p> + +<p>There for twelve years the Pilgrim church held +its own, though its members, for all their efforts +to support themselves in that strange country, fared +hardly and poorly. Good Deacon Fuller, the physician, +had been glad to earn his living as a say or +serge maker; Master William Bradford had been +a maker of fustian; and the Elder had maintained +his family and aided his poorer companions by +teaching English to Danish and German gentlemen, +and later by printing English books.</p> + +<p>Love told also of Master Carver, the recently +elected governor of the company, who had given<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +his whole fortune to the Pilgrim cause; and he +spoke of gallant Master Edward Winslow, who, +travelling in the Low Countries with his newly +married wife, had come to know and to respect the +Pilgrim folk and finally to cast in his lot with theirs. +And, best of all, Love could tell of Captain Standish.</p> + +<p>There the boy turned to what Miles had been +waiting to hear, and be sure that now he eagerly +drank in each word: how the Captain came of a +great family in Lancashire, where he had a vast +estate which his kinsfolk had taken from him,—so +Love had once heard him say to the Elder; how +he had fought bravely against the wicked Spaniards, +as far back as the time of Queen Bess, when Miles +Standish was a very young man indeed; and how, +of a sudden, he had come with his young wife and +joined himself to the Pilgrims, why, none could +say, for he was "not of our faith," Love gravely +quoted the older people.</p> + +<p>That last did not greatly displease Miles, perhaps +because his own father was rather a Puritan +than an ardent Separatist, as those were called who, +like the Pilgrims of Leyden, broke off all communion +with the Established Church. Goodman +John Rigdale grumbled about the bishops and the +vestments of the clergymen and other matters which +Miles neither heeded nor comprehended, but, for +all his grumbling, as often as the law insisted, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +and his household went to church. One of the first +and liveliest recollections of childhood which Miles +kept, was of how the red light from the painted +windows that his father hated used to shift along +the dark oak of the old pews.</p> + +<p>Lately, though, John Rigdale had spoken out +too openly against the service book, and there had +been a citation before the ecclesiastical court. Miles +scarcely understood the matter, but he knew that +Dun-face, the pet heifer, had been sold to pay a +fine, and that their landlord, swearing that he was +too good a Church of England man to suffer a +pestilent Separatist hold a farm of him, had refused +to renew the lease, bought long ago by Miles's +grandfather, which now ran out.</p> + +<p>Then had come Master Stephen Hopkins, the +London tanner, whose first wife had been a distant +cousin of John Rigdale's, and he had talked of the +new country over seas, where a man might have +land and a farm of his own for the asking and worship +to please his conscience, not the king's bishops. +Master Hopkins had already made up his mind to +embark with the people from Leyden; he had met +their agent, Master Cushman, and he was acquainted +with some of the London merchants who had +formed a partnership with the Leyden people, the +Londoners to furnish money to pay the expenses +of the long voyage, the Separatists to give themselves<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +and their families to defend and till the plantation +thus gained.</p> + +<p>In the end, Master Hopkins's statements were +so weighty that Goodman Rigdale followed his example. +The stout farm horse and the cows and the +pigs were all led away to market, and Dolly cried +over each one; and Goodwife Rigdale, too, wept a +little when most of the bits of furniture were sold. +But Miles thought it all very merry and stirring,—the +breaking up of the home he had known, the +journey to Southampton, all amidst new sights and +sounds, and the ship, and the long voyage over the +sea, till the <i>Mayflower</i> dropped anchor off Cape Cod.</p> + +<p>He was more than a bit weary of the voyage and +the ship now, however, as he sat on the turned-up +mattress in his father's stuffy little cabin. The +dead air was cold without being bracing, and Miles +broke short Love's discourse on the journey of the +Leyden Pilgrims into England, by springing up +and stamping his chilled feet.</p> + +<p>"It <i>is</i> a shrewd cold day," said his companion. +"See!" He puffed at the air, and his breath made +a little white cloud. "Maybe we'd best go up on +deck and run."</p> + +<p>At that word the two older boys turned to the +door, but Wrestling shook his head and, pressing +closer to Dolly, whispered: "Before I go, I want +that you show me the Indian basket."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p> + +<p>Miles overheard, and delayed to draw from beneath +the bunk the deal box in which the treasure +was kept. Wrestling was so young that he seemed +hardly more than a baby, and as a baby Miles had +a kindly, protecting feeling for him; when he rose +with the box he opened it so the little boy might +have the first sight. Within lay a tiny basket all +of silk grass, pictured on which in black and white +were birds and flowers of a curious pattern.</p> + +<p>"Did your father truly bring it from the Indians?" +Love asked.</p> + +<p>"He brought it home to me," Dolly explained +proudly. "It was in an Indian house, and my +father found it when he went ashore with Captain +Standish. And so he brought it to me."</p> + +<p>Wrestling touched the fragile thing gingerly. "I +wish our father fought the Indians once," he murmured.</p> + +<p>"It is better to be an Elder," Love rebuked him +sternly; then added, lest Dolly's feelings be hurt, +"though, to be sure, there can be but one Elder in +a company. The rest must be fighting men, must +they not, Miles?"</p> + +<p>But Miles gave no heed; for just then the sound +of soft footsteps made him glance to the open door, +at which the light drifted in, and there, standing on +the threshold, he saw his mother.</p> + +<p>Years afterward, when he looked back, Miles<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +realized Goodwife Rigdale had been a young woman +then, not above thirty, but in those days it seemed +to him she must be old, because she was his mother; +he even wondered that she had not hair streaked +with gray, like Mistress Brewster. Mothers were +always old, he generalized rashly, just as they were +always gentle-spoken and full of kindness; only +that last judgment he revoked, after he came aboard +the <i>Mayflower</i> and heard Goodwife Billington, a true +London virago, rail at her sons and saw her cuff +them.</p> + +<p>But his own mother was not to be belittled by +naming her with Ellen Billington; she was everything +that was good and to be loved, even if she did +not wear such a brave gown as Mistress Winslow, +nor have such pink cheeks as Mistress Standish. +Miles drew away from the bunk, against which he +had been leaning, to make room for her to sit, +though he did it awkwardly, because Love and +Wrestling were looking.</p> + +<p>"I'll bide a bit now with my little maid," she +said, as she drew the blankets more closely about +Dolly. "You'll want to be running up on deck +now, I can guess, deary, and Love and Wrestling +too, if Mistress Brewster will suffer it."</p> + +<p>"Mother, is the shallop in sight?" Miles cried +eagerly. For, since the exploring party sailed forth +a week before, there had come so great a storm that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +hearts aboard the <i>Mayflower</i> were not a little anxious +for their welfare.</p> + +<p>"They've made out a sail to the southward, I +heard the talk run. Go you and learn further, +Miles. Your father will be on deck too."</p> + +<p>Miles reddened a little; why would she speak as +if he were a young boy, to need his father? "Come, +lads," he said, in a very old tone, to hide his mortification, +and led the way from the cabin. As he +passed out at the door, he heard a sorrowful wail +from Dolly: "O me! Mammy, can I not run +about with them soon?"</p> + +<p>But Miles forgot Dolly's woes and all, when he +clambered into the bracing air of the deck, whither +the most of the hale ones of the company had, like +himself, bustled to watch the approaching shallop. +Shreds of dappled cloud half obscured the east, but +low in the west the sun was cold and yellow, and its +light flecked the water and made the sail of the distant +craft gleam like gold.</p> + +<p>Miles stared till for very dazzle he could see no +longer, then turned his gaze inboard, where it rested +on the slender figure of a woman, who leaned against +the mainmast. When the light got out of his eyes, +he perceived it was Mistress Rose Standish, who, +while he was still gazing on her, came to the bulwark +beside him, but, without seeming to see him, +stood looking toward the shallop.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p> + +<p>Once and again Miles glanced up at her, thinking +how bonny she was with the flush on her cheeks +and her brown hair straying from beneath her hood +across her forehead; and then he grew suddenly +hot, for she chanced to look down, and their eyes +met. He drew away bashfully and stared again at +the shallop; the sun had now dropped lower, so the +waves around it were sombre, but within the boat +sparkled a gleam of light on metal armor. Miles +almost thought to be able to distinguish the forms +of the men, and presently their faces. "Yon is the +Captain," he broke out, half aloud.</p> + +<p>"Do you see him, too?" Mistress Standish +spoke, as if he had addressed her.</p> + +<p>"That's he, by the mast, with the steel corselet."</p> + +<p>She looked down again, and the boy noted her +eyes were moist, though she smiled as she said: +"You seem to know the Captain very well, sir."</p> + +<p>"I'd know him anywhere," Miles answered earnestly. +"You understand, he was right kind to me."</p> + +<p>Then he broke off speech, for the shallop was +now fairly alongside, and the men in her were calling +to those on shipboard greetings and questions +and answers. Mistress Standish moved quickly +toward the gangway, and Miles saw her meet the +Captain, when he clambered up the ladder.</p> + +<p>Next after him came Master William Bradford, +and suddenly it struck with a shock on Miles's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +remembrance that Mistress Bradford was dead, +drowned alongside the <i>Mayflower</i> on the very day +after the shallop sailed, and her body carried away +among the waves. Master Bradford, for all the +weariness in his movements, looked cheerful and +hopeful as he gained the deck, and his eyes went +glancing over the women gathered there with such +a certainty of meeting one that, child though he +was, Miles realized something of the pity of it.</p> + +<p>But after Elder Brewster had led Master Bradford +away, the horror and the pity slipped quickly +from Miles. Drawing over closer to the gangway +ladder, he stood watching the rest of the shallop's +company scramble to the deck, and, listening to +every scrap of speech, was soon eager as any of the +other boys in questioning the sailors and Hopkins's +man, Dotey.</p> + +<p>The minutes ran on till dim twilight had darkened +upon the water, when at last, bursting with +news, Miles clambered down again to Goodwife +Rigdale in the cabin. "They've found a place for +us to settle, mother," he announced, barely within +the door.</p> + +<p>Goodwife Rigdale hushed him with a finger on +her lips; Dolly was asleep, so he must speak +softly.</p> + +<p>Miles curled himself up on the floor at his +mother's feet, with his elbow on her knee, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +whispered: "'Tis at a place called Thievish Harbor—"</p> + +<p>"Nay, that's an ill name," commented the Goodwife.</p> + +<p>"'Tis because a savage stole a harpoon from a +ship's boat that once put in there to truck, so says +Robert Coppin, the pilot. It lies across a great +bay here, and there are fair green islands and many +brooks and cleared land and tall trees. We are +going thither, all of us, mother. The ship is to +sail so soon as the wind favors. And if they like +of it on further look, we'll go ashore and stay. I +want to go ashore again," he ended wistfully; "the +week's out that father said I must stay on the ship. +Won't you beg him take me ashore first thing when +we come thither, mother?"</p> + +<p>The flickering light that reached them from the +lantern hung outside the cabin door was blotted +out then, as Goodman Rigdale himself came in. +Miles dared ask no favors of him directly, however, +but, scrambling to his feet, stood silent and unobtrusive, +though he listened eagerly to all his father +had to say of Thievish Harbor, which he called +Plymouth. "So it is named on the maps that +were drawn by Captain Smith," he said, to which +Goodwife Rigdale answered quickly: "I am glad +for the name. Do you not have in mind, John, +how kindly the people at our English Plymouth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +dealt by us when we had to put in at their harbor?"</p> + +<p>But this new Plymouth in America bore little +resemblance to Plymouth in Devonshire, as Miles +found, to his surprise, when he had his first sight +of the place where the company was to settle. It +was on the afternoon of the day succeeding the +return of the shallop that, the wind at last favoring, +the <i>Mayflower</i> steered her course for the bay of +Plymouth. The sunshine was strong and clear, and +the air mild, so Goodwife Rigdale suffered Dolly +come up on deck, where, well wrapped in a cloak, +she stood between her mother and Miles.</p> + +<p>Others in plenty, all the passengers who could +walk about, were watching for a glimpse of the new +home, but Miles, in his eagerness, scarcely heeded +his companions. He strained his eyes to see the +headlands, brave with evergreen, loom higher and +higher, and ran to question his friend, Giles Hopkins, +who had been talking with the sailors, as to +what they were. Giles explained that the one on +the left was not the mainland, but a well-wooded +point, and on the right yonder the farther of the +two islands, with the trees, was where the exploring +party had spent their Sabbath.</p> + +<p>By the time Miles returned to his mother with +the news, they were running in between the point +and the islands, and presently, well within the harbor,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +they dropped anchor in a safe mooring ground. +All about them were headlands and islands; far to +the right, across the bay, rose a great hill; and +just over opposite where the ship lay a broad +space of open land, with high hills behind, could +be made out.</p> + +<p>"Yonder's where we'll settle," Miles assured his +mother.</p> + +<p>"I see no houses," protested Dolly. "I thought +there would be cottages, maybe. Must we lie in +the woods, mammy?"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! We'll build houses," scoffed Miles; +he would have blushed to own that, half unconsciously, +he, too, had cherished the fancy of seeing +on the New England shore straggling streets and +tiny cottages, as in old Plymouth.</p> + +<p>"You'll build houses, Miles?" teased his sister.</p> + +<p>"Father and I and all the men," the boy bragged. +"Build them of great logs. Then in the spring will +come a ship with horses and cows and sheep, and +we'll have farms, just as we had at home."</p> + +<p>"With a hedge round the dooryard?" Dolly +questioned.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and meadow-land and ploughed fields. +We'll have all in order when the frost leaves the +ground," Miles answered confidently.</p> + +<p>Then he looked up at his mother, and was +astonished to see that for once her eyes were not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +on her children, but on the empty shore over opposite. +Her face was wistful, and it came on Miles +that perhaps she was not as interested in the farm +concerns as he, who was a man, so he said quickly: +"And you can have a garden here, mother, full +of rosemary and daffadowndillies, just as at home. +Maybe you'll not have to labor so hard here," he +added more vaguely, not quite understanding her +silence.</p> + +<p>She smiled a little then. "That's a good lad, +Miles," she said, putting her arm about his shoulders; +then she bade him go to his mates if he would, +and she led Dolly back to the cabin.</p> + +<p>Miles stood alone, gazing at the home-shore and +wondering where his father's farm would lie. Still +thinking on it, he was turning toward the hatchway, +when he almost ran into Goodman Rigdale. "O +father," Miles broke out before he thought, "may +I not go with you when we begin our farm? I'll +conduct me well and be obedient."</p> + +<p>He stopped, surprised at his own forwardness, +and he was more surprised when his father, looking +down at him gravely, said without chiding: "Our +farm? Ay, Miles, so soon as there is work to do +on shore you shall come with me and bear a hand."</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER IV<br /> + +<small>HEWERS OF WOOD AND DRAWERS OF WATER</small></h2> + + +<div class='drop-cap'>"TO-MORROW I am going ashore." +Thus Miles Rigdale proclaimed, from +his perch on the bunk in his father's +cabin, to all who might choose to hear.</div> + +<p>"'Tis the forty and third time you've said that +in the last sennight," Ned Lister answered dryly. +He was lounging in the cabin door, shirt-sleeved +and shivering, while Goodwife Rigdale repaired his +doublet; Mistress Hopkins, to whom the task +ordinarily fell, lay ill, and her stepdaughter, Constance, +was so busied that, to relieve her, Alice +Rigdale had taken the young man and his mending +off her hands.</p> + +<p>"Why do you not put on your cloak, if you be +cold, Ned Lister?" Dolly spoke up.</p> + +<p>"Because 'tis too much labor to fetch it, Puss," +Ned answered, whereat Miles laughed, and the +Goodwife's brows puckered; another might have +said it was because the sewing gave her trouble, but +Miles, who felt uncomfortably that his mother disapproved +of Ned as a scatter-brained, reckless fellow, +guessed that she had not liked that last speech.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> + +<p>He was sure of his guess when she hastened to +change the subject: "Does it still rain upon deck, +Edward?"</p> + +<p>"Rain and naught else; the third day of it now, +yet by the look it might pour on for a week."</p> + +<p>"And my daddy's yonder in the wet on shore," +murmured Dolly, pressing close against her mother's +knee, and the Goodwife sewed more slowly, with her +eyes downcast.</p> + +<p>But Miles burst into lamentation: "I think they +might 'a' taken me ashore. Since we came into +Plymouth Harbor they've explored and explored, +and never suffered me to come, but they took Giles +Hopkins with them. And now the randevous is +built on shore, and some of the men are staying +there, it has rained and rained so I cannot go to +them. But I'm going to-morrow, the very next +time the shallop sails."</p> + +<p>"To be sure you shall," Lister answered, as he +scrambled into his mended doublet. "I'll take you +along with me."</p> + +<p>Then he swaggered away jauntily, as if he had +promised ample service in return for his mending, +and Goodwife Rigdale, with a bit of a sigh, said +softly to Miles: "'Tis well meant of Edward Lister +to see you safe ashore, but when you are there, remember, +you are to stay with your father, not go +roving with him."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p> + +<p>Miles's satisfaction at Ned's offer was a bit tempered +by her words, but he lost the remembrance +of them next morning, when he saw the sun was rising +clear and the shallop would go shoreward. At +once he clattered down to the cabin to get his cap +and mittens, and Trug, who must go with him; +then ran up on deck again, where, in the chill sunlight, +the men were laboring briskly to load the +shallop. Miles watched them while they put in +the felling-axes and handsaws and hammers, all the +tools that were to build the new town of Plymouth, +and the biscuit and salt beef and pease that were to +form the workers' rations.</p> + +<p>About the time the labor was ended, Ned sauntered +up to the gangway, and, seeing Miles, very +speedily helped him clamber down the ladder, and +made Trug leap after him. Master Isaac Allerton, +who was settled comfortably in the stern, grumbled +at burdening the shallop with children and curs, so +Miles put his arms about Trug, and, cuddling down +in the bottom of the boat, made himself as still and +small as possible lest, after all, the company, thinking +better of it, bid him scramble up the gangway +ladder again.</p> + +<p>But the time for that was past, for the shallop, +with her sail hanging sluggish, had crept surely out +from the lee of the <i>Mayflower</i>, and now, catching the +light breeze, actually stood in to the shore. Miles forgot<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +the discomfort of his seat among the tools while +he gazed toward the approaching coast line, where +was to be his home. Behind him the sun was up, +and the hills that rose away inland from the harbor +were bright in the cold, yellow radiance, and the +water and the sky that spread about him were both +very blue. He glanced back over his shoulder at +the dreary old <i>Mayflower</i>, and was surprised to find +that, as the sun struck athwart her patched sails, +even she was beautiful.</p> + +<p>Then the movement of those about him, and +the sound of waves crunching on the shingle, made +him look forward again. Under the shelter of a +high bluff, where a great boulder ran out into the +water, he saw those standing who had kept the randevous, +and the randevous itself, a rude hut of +boughs. In his eagerness Miles jumped up, and +Trug, springing up too, began to bark, but no one +took note or scolded, for the men were busied in +running the shallop in alongside the rock, and some, +leaping over the gunwale, were already splashing +through the shallow water to the beach.</p> + +<p>Ned and Giles Hopkins made the shore thus, +so Miles must do the like, and came to land all +drenched and dripping. But it was land,—good, +stable, brown earth, not the hateful, rolling ship,—he +had beneath his feet, and, in the delight of the +long unused sensation, he forgot he was wet and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +chilled, forgot his father awaited him, and there was +work to do. He knew only that far and near the +shore stretched widely, where a boy could run, so, +for choice, he set his face to the bluff that towered +above the landing.</p> + +<p>Up and up, through the keen, dry bushes, that +whipped his hands and face so he laughed in the +mere delight of struggling with them, he fought his +way till he came breathless to the bare summit. +All about him dazzled the blue of the harbor and +of the unclouded sky, and yonder on his right, +through its fringe of bushes, shone the blue of what +seemed a cove. Down the hill rushed Miles, with +Trug leaping and barking at his heels, and paused +only on the shore of a great brook, that, flowing +out between steep bluffs, widened into the sea.</p> + +<p>Another was before him there, his distant kinsman, +Giles Hopkins, who, for all he was a sober lad of sixteen, +was a good comrade to the younger boy. He +now bade Miles come upstream to the spring the men +had found on their last exploration, and Miles very +readily followed him through the scrubby undergrowth, +where the cove narrowed on the left hand, +and on the right a high bluff kept pace with the +boys. "It's on that bluff they mean to set the +houses," Giles explained, over his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Then we'll have this big stream in our dooryards," +cried Miles. "Won't that be brave? I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +shall build me a raft, and sail to those wooded hills +on the other side whenever I choose. Though, +maybe, Indians dwell there," he added, with a dubious +glance at Giles; he did not wish to seem afraid, +but, though he intended to be a soldier, he did not +purpose to fight without a musket and a long sword, +and he wondered how much farther from the shore +his leader would venture.</p> + +<p>But speedily his wonder had an end, for, breaking +through a thicket of leafless alders, Giles halted +at a little cavity within the sand of the riverbank, +where the spring of sweet water bubbled up. Down +lay Miles on the turf, and, using his hand for a cup, +swallowed his first draught of New England water. +"'Tis better than the brackish stuff we have on +shipboard," he said, as he wiped his wet hands on +his wet doublet.</p> + +<p>"The savages must have known the spot," answered +the experienced Giles. "We found this +path worn down hither from the bluff, and see, here +is a line of stepping-stones across the brook."</p> + +<p>Miles glanced about him, half nervously, lest +along the path or across the stones he see one of +their former savage passengers approaching. He +was at heart relieved when, as Giles led the way up +the bluff, he heard in the distance the sound of an +axe crashing on a tree trunk. Giles did not turn +toward the sound, however, but went plodding on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +uphill, for above the bluff a second summit reared +itself steeply. Miles panted in his trail, endlessly +upward, it seemed, till at last he stood exhausted +on a lofty hilltop, whence, far as the sea spread out +before him, he beheld the wooded uplands roll away +to westward.</p> + +<p>Giles was explaining wisely what a proper place +this hill was for a fort, and how Captain Standish +had advised the company mount upon it guns, which +should command to southward the spring, and +toward the harbor the landing place and the houses, +which were to be built along the river bluff, when +Master Hopkins and John Rigdale, tramping +thither, ended their sons' holiday.</p> + +<p>"Is this the way you would work, Miles?" +Goodman Rigdale asked sternly, and, fearing lest +the next word sentence him to return at once to +the <i>Mayflower</i>, Miles ran eagerly about the task +they set him.</p> + +<p>All day he tugged chips and branches for the fire +at the randevous, but it was work on land, in the +free air, where a boy could shout as much as he +wished, so he never realized he was weary till night +came. He had to pack off to the ship with the +other boys and near half the men, but he had no +chance to grumble at this, as did some of his mates, +for, once aboard the shallop, he leaned against Ned +Lister and fell half asleep. Only when the shallop<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +scraped the ship's side did he awake to stagger up +the gangway ladder and stumble away to tell Dolly +and his mother of the wonders he had seen ashore.</p> + +<p>Next day, being Sunday, no work was done, and +the next day, being Christmas, Miles, who remembered +what a time of merrymaking that was at home, +thought he must idle again. But here on Christmas, +from sunrise to sunset, it was all stern work. +"We stain this virgin soil with no Popish holydays," +Master Hopkins said grimly, and, though the rest +did not exult in words, they labored with double +fervor to show they did no honor to the day.</p> + +<p>Miles had his part to do on shore that Christmas +and in the days that followed, though it was a +different part from that he had hoped to have. +When he talked to his mother and Dolly of building +cottages, he had fancied that perhaps he would +be allowed to sit high up on a ridgepole and drive +nails. He knew he would enjoy doing that, but +in practice he was set less pleasant tasks: he ran +errands, not only for his father, but for every man +who chose to send him; he fetched water up the +steep bluff from the spring to the workers; and he +carried firewood from where the choppers labored +upon the bluff to where the first house was building.</p> + +<p>On occasion he even tended the fire and saw that +the porridge did not burn, and more than once was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +sent to carry a portion of the food to the men who, +unable to rise and get their rations, lay ill in the +half-built log cabins. The numbers of these sick +ever multiplied, for the close quarters and bad food +aboard the <i>Mayflower</i> had caused a fever to break +out among her passengers, and the exposure to +which the men and boys often recklessly subjected +themselves increased the roll of the ailing, and, at +last, of the dying.</p> + +<p>Miles was sorry, of course, for the men and +women who sickened and died, but it was a sorrow +that did not go deep enough to prevent his enjoying +the open-air life, and the moments of play that +he snatched from his work. For death had not +come near any that he loved; Dolly and Jack +Cooke had been ill, but they were getting better, +and none of his other near acquaintances had been +touched. To be sure, he himself went sneezing +with a great cold, but it meant nothing, any more +than did his father's cough; he did not worry for +it the half as much as he fretted at the dull routine +labors to which he was set.</p> + +<p>One day in January he had a hand in more exciting +work, for Ned Lister and Giles Hopkins, +who were going to cut swamp grass for thatch, invited +him to come with them, and Ned even let +him carry his sharp sickle. Ned himself turned all +his effort to bearing a fowling piece, with the use<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> +of which, after the grass was cut, he had been bribed +to the afternoon's labor, for he was afflicted with a +hard cough that racked him most piteously when +he was set to any work but hunting.</p> + +<p>So soon as they reached the piece of marshy +ground in the deep hollow behind the first range of +hills, where grew the grass they sought, one of those +coughing fits laid hold on Ned. He really wasn't +fit to work, he said, but, when Miles volunteered +to do the task for him, he found energy to direct +the boy's clumsy attempts with the sickle.</p> + +<p>Two bundles of grass the workers were expected +to bring home, and Giles cut his, slowly +and soberly, while Ned dallied with Miles, till he +saw his companion had nearly gathered his share. +Then Lister snatched the sickle from Miles, and, +finishing the work in a surprisingly short time for +a sick man, caught up his piece with the exclamation, +"<i>Now</i> we'll go fowling."</p> + +<p>Leaving the sickles and the bundles of grass +where they lay, the three picked a path round the +verge of the marsh and climbed westward over the +hills. Last of all Miles trotted along bravely, very +proud that he was one of the company, and full of +interest at passing so far inland. But on the top +of the second long hill, Giles suddenly cried out: +"Look yonder. Is not that smoke?"</p> + +<p>Against the dull sky to the west Miles saw a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +little fine curl of gray, and the question was on his +tongue's end, when Ned Lister anticipated it: "No, +it can be none of our people so far from the shore. +Savages, maybe. Say we go down and see."</p> + +<p>Shouldering his fowling piece, he set out jauntily, +and the two boys came stoutly after. They +scrambled down a rough hillslope and through +another level piece, all open and stubbly, westward +still, where the smoke rose. "This land has been +cleared; 'tis true Indian ground here," Ned spoke +suddenly, and halted.</p> + +<p>Miles stopped short five paces behind his comrades. +He looked to the hills ahead, where the +bare branches of oak trees stood out clearly against +the afternoon sky. It was a lowering sky, and +night was coming. He glanced behind him, and +saw only the barren wall of hills, no sign of the +harbor or of the <i>Mayflower</i>. Ned and Giles were +looking at each other with a something so dubious +in their faces that Miles felt a griping sensation in +his throat. He wondered if he could find his way +back as he had come, and, doubting it, drew close +to Ned, who had the fowling piece.</p> + +<p>Ned was fiddling with the lock of the piece and +he spoke rather sheepishly: "I'm not afraid. But +I'm not going to run into Heaven knows what +with two younkers like you on my shoulders."</p> + +<p>"Say we march home, then?" Giles suggested,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +and straightway, facing round, they retraced their +steps pretty smartly.</p> + +<p>Miles was still in the rear, and, as he went, he +studied the long legs of his companions and +thought how much more swiftly they could run +for it, if anything came up behind them. Thinking +so, he forgot to look to his feet, and, as they +descended a gully, fell headlong with a great clattering +of stones. "Wait for me!" he cried, in a sharp, +high voice that did not sound natural.</p> + +<p>Ned glanced back, with his face tenser than its +wont. "Here, take the fowling piece, Giles," he +said curtly; then, returning to Miles, he lifted him +to his feet, and, keeping one hand beneath his arm, +helped him to hurry along.</p> + +<p>Thus they scurried down the hillside to the +swamp, and, catching up their sickles and the +thatch, pressed on toward the settlement. Not till +they were panting up the landward side of the great +hill and caught the faint sound of hammers in the +street of the half-built town, did Ned suffer the +speed to slacken. "You'll make a gallant soldier +one day, Miley," he said then, and began laughing. +"Though I take it no one of us was afraid; eh, +boys?"</p> + +<p>They all agreed they were not in the least frightened, +and some such version Ned must have reported +to Captain Standish, when he told how they had seen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +Indian fires. For next day Miles found himself +quite a hero in the sight of the other lads, because +he had gone far into the woods and walked boldly +right into an encampment of the savages. But +Goodman Rigdale chided his son sternly for such +a harebrained prank, and after that made the boy +stay within his sight while he was on shore.</p> + +<p>Miles did not greatly mind, for his father and +Francis Cooke, the father of his playmate Jack, +were now engaged in a delightful work in which he +liked to help. Lately the whole company of the +<i>Mayflower</i> had been divided into nineteen families, +and these two men, who had been placed in one +household, were building together a cottage, high +up on the hillside. His father's house, Miles insisted +upon calling it, though Goodman Rigdale +was at pains to explain to him that the cottage belonged +not to any one man, but to the whole company; +the Pilgrims at Plymouth and the merchants +at London, who had advanced the money for the +voyage, were to hold everything in common till +seven years were up and then divide all equally, +and till then no man could call a house his own.</p> + +<p>Still, Miles knew that by and by his mother and +Dolly and Jack Cooke would come ashore, as other +families were coming, and they would live together +in that house, so it seemed the same as if it belonged +to his father. He looked forward to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +time when they would all be under one roof, and +he would be suffered to sleep ashore, for, though +his father passed his nights at the Common House, +there was no room for Miles, who at twilight had +to journey off to the ship. But that arrangement +drew speedily to an end, for the walls of the house, +built of squared logs, soon rose to a good height; +the chimney of sticks and clay was finished; and +at last it was but a question of thatching the roof.</p> + +<p>Of a dull afternoon in mid-January Goodman +Rigdale set out to cut swamp grass for the thatch, +and took with him Miles, who had not been so far +afield since his exploit with Ned Lister. They +went steadily up the slope on the shoulder of the +great hill, and there Miles, who had run a little +ahead with Trug, paused to look back proudly at +the stanch, new cottage below. "Those are brave +big logs in our house, are they not, sir?" he broke +out. "'Twill last us a many years."</p> + +<p>"That, or whatever house shall fall to us at the +division, will last you all your lifetime," Goodman +Rigdale answered shortly. "And you will lease it +of no man. You'll hold a house and a farm of your +own here one day, Miles."</p> + +<p>They tramped on a time in silence, and Miles +was making himself sport by crushing in the scum +of ice on the pools along their path, when his father +spoke suddenly: "You're in a fair way to lead an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +easier life than your father or your grandfather before +you, Miles. And if you be the happier, you +should be so much the better man."</p> + +<p>"Ay, sir," Miles answered vaguely, and tipped +back his head to watch a great bird that went flapping +across the sky; he wished his father had +brought along a fowling piece.</p> + +<p>When they came to the swamp, Goodman Rigdale +cut down the grass swiftly, and Miles bundled +it, though he found it hard to keep pace with his +father. Goodman Rigdale, being in haste, must at +the last do the work himself, and, while he bundled +the grass, Miles, remembering the stolen pleasures +of his last thatching trip, picked up the sickle and +tried a slash or two on his own account. He managed +to cut his hand, and, though he scarcely felt +the pain, because the hand was cold, he stared in +some fright when he saw the blood come streaking +out.</p> + +<p>Goodman Rigdale gave him a rag to tie up the +hurt hand, and also gave him some good advice on the +need of care with edged tools, which Miles did not +think quite called for just then. He tried, however, +not to show any sign of pain, because that always +displeased his father; and, as he thought he had +borne himself quite bravely, he was much hurt, when +Goodman Rigdale, on coming down into the settlement, +said: "Get you to the shallop now, Miles,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +and bide on board the <i>Mayflower</i> till I send for you. +You'll be of no service with your hand cut. Mayhap +you'll be better off with your mother, too. +After all, you are but a young lad."</p> + +<p>"As you bid, sir," Miles said, respectfully, but +very stiffly, and walked away down the path to the +landing.</p> + +<p>Once he stopped to kick a stone out of his way, +and once, before he rounded the base of the bluff, +something made him face about and look back to +the Common House. His father was standing by +the door, watching him, and Miles, feeling much +rebuked, walked on rapidly. But the image of his +father remained in his mind very clear.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER V<br /> + +<small>NEWS FROM THE SHORE</small></h2> + + +<div class='drop-cap'>BECAUSE Miles's hand was hurt, Goodwife +Rigdale made much of him, till he fairly +resented it, for he had grown into the age +where he was sheepish and awkward under open +petting. He soon slipped away from his mother +and the sympathetic Dolly, and went to spend his +time with Jack Cooke, who, during the day, while +his father worked on shore, was glad of company. +The boys had now almost room enough on shipboard +to play satisfactorily, for many of the passengers +had gone ashore; but it must be quiet playing, +for, of those who still remained in their cabins not +a few were ill.</div> + +<p>Goodwife Rigdale was busied to and fro in caring +for the sick ones, and, at her bidding, Miles ran +many an errand, to fetch water from the casks on +deck or heat a pot of broth in the ship's galley. +But their joint labor soon ended, for, a few days +after the boy's return to the ship, came a message +from Goodman Rigdale: he was just touched with +the fever, he said, though nothing serious, but a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +many lay sick ashore, and the Goodwife could aid +them as well as himself; Mistress Brewster, who, +with her family, had gone to the settlement, had +offered to shelter her, and he prayed her come.</p> + +<p>Next morning Goodwife Rigdale bundled her +cloak about her, and set out in the shallop. Miles, +standing by the bulwark, watched her go, but only +for a time; it had snowed the night before, so the +railings were white and smooth to the touch, and he +found it of more absorbing interest to poke off +strips of the frozen snow, and send them splashing +into the cold-looking water beneath the ship's side. +By the time he looked again to the shallop, it was +so near shore he could no longer make out his +mother's figure, and his feet were chilled too, so he +went back to Dolly in the cabin.</p> + +<p>At first he found it manly and grown up to be +left in charge, for so he esteemed his position. The +cut in his hand was healing well, and he felt he +would have been working ashore, if it were not that +some one must mind his father's quarters on shipboard +and care for Dolly and Solomon. He ordered +his sister about in a paternal manner; he +rebuked her severely if she so much as showed her +small, snub nose on the frosty deck without wrapping +herself up well; and he even insisted on her +going to bed punctually at sundown, while he, in +the glory of manhood, waited in the great cabin to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +hear what news those who came from the shore +would bring.</p> + +<p>But Dolly took her turn when it came to their +daily meals, for she had certain deft, housewifely +ways, which Miles could not hope to imitate, and +he was ashamed even of trying to better himself, +after he heard the little woman speak like her +mother of "men and boys that set a body's kitchen +in a mash." Miles might tug out the pot of broth,—'twas +all he was fit for; Goodwife Dolly would +herself do the stirring and tasting; and though, +among so many cooks, the broth sometimes burned, +yet they always contrived to eat it.</p> + +<p>The four of them—Miles, Dolly, Jack, and +Solomon—ate their food together in the Rigdales' +cabin: most times it was only broth, or perhaps +salted meat and biscuit, which Goodwife Rigdale, +before she went away, had laid out for them; but +once Goodman Cooke brought them from the shore +a large piece of a cold roast goose. There was but +one drumstick, and each felt he should have it,—Jack +because he had been ill, and Dolly because she +was a girl, and Miles because he was the eldest. +Solomon said nothing, but he purred his loudest +and rubbed his head against Dolly's knee. They +ended by eating the drumstick together, each a bite, +turn and turn about, and what they could not get +from the bone was left to Solomon, who dragged<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +his ration beneath the bunk, and, with eyes big and +fiery, growled at them.</p> + +<p>The children remembered that supper, not only +because of the cold goose, but because it was the +last they ate together, for next morning Goodman +Cooke took Jack to the shore. Miles watched his +friend's small preparations enviously, and Dolly, +who had come also to stand in the doorway of the +Cookes' cabin, voiced a sorrowful wish: "I think +I'd best go too, and see father and mother."</p> + +<p>"They've no place to put you, lass," Goodman +Cooke explained. "So soon as there is place, +they'll send for you both, be sure. For Doctor +Fuller says your father grows heartier, Miles," he +went on; "you've no need to worry yourself."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I have not worried," Miles answered, +in some surprise.</p> + +<p>After Jack went, life on shipboard was not so +pleasant. Dolly began to fret for her mother and +scoff at Miles's authority; Miles grew cross; and +the broth burned oftener than ever, and finally, giving +out altogether, left them with nothing to eat +but dry biscuit. With this woful tale of starvation, +Dolly betook herself at last to Constance Hopkins +in the great cabin, and Miles, glad that some one +should make known their unhappy state, yet +ashamed to do so himself, lagged on behind.</p> + +<p>Constance Hopkins was Giles's sister, a slip of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> +lass, not three years older than Miles, but to him +she seemed quite grown up. Certainly she bore +the responsibilities of age in those days, for not +only must she nurse her stepmother, Mistress Elizabeth +Hopkins, who lay helpless in her cabin, but she +must care for the baby, Oceanus, born on the voyage +across the sea, and the little half-sister, Damaris, +a baby also, not two years old. Yet somehow +motherly little Constance found time to comfort +Dolly, and cook a bit of meat for hungry Miles, +and assure them both that their father and mother +surely would come soon to look to them.</p> + +<p>Dolly hugged the "big girl," but Miles could +scarcely do that, and he knew no civil speech to tell +his gratitude, so he was glad when, his eyes falling +on Damaris, he thought to pick her up. "I'll +mind her for you a bit, Constance," he offered.</p> + +<p>Damaris was pleased with Miles's tousled hair +and sturdy arms, that held her more firmly than +her half-sister could; and Miles, never guessing +what a source of misfortune her liking would prove +to him hereafter, was much elated at his success +with her. He tugged baby out on deck to show +her the gulls looking for food in the water, and the +bright crusted snow that sparkled in the sunshine +on the wooded point. Damaris gurgled appreciatively +and pulled Miles's hair; then, when he +carried her back into the cabin, slept like a kitten,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> +whereat Constance was so relieved and pleased that +Miles gladly cared for the baby, his baby, the next +day, and the next.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 321px;"> +<img src="images/i_079.jpg" width="321" height="500" alt="two children looking at their mother in bed" /> +<div class="caption">"Dolly plaited a fold of her apron between her fingers."</div> +</div> + +<p>But the third day, a Friday, a pelting fine rain +set in that made an airing on the deck out of the +question, not for the baby alone, but for a well-grown +boy and girl. Miles and Dolly went up to +spend the afternoon in the great cabin, because in +their own quarters there was no one to talk to, and, +moreover, it was cold. In the main cabin they +would find some one to keep them company, and +they could, at least, warm their hands at the little +fire burning in a tubful of sand, which Constance +often used in heating food for Mistress Hopkins.</p> + +<p>But this afternoon the fire was out and Constance +busied with her mother, so the two children, disappointed, +sat down together on a rude bench, at the +angle in the stern where two rows of little cabins +joined. "I wish I were with my mother," sniffed +Dolly; and "'Twill do you no good to cry," Miles +checked her sternly.</p> + +<p>"I was not crying, Miles Rigdale," the damsel +answered hotly.</p> + +<p>It was on Miles's lips to reply, when close at +hand a voice spoke his name, "Miles Rigdale!"</p> + +<p>Readily enough he jumped up and went to the +half-opened door of the adjoining cabin. It was +Captain Standish's cabin, he remembered now, and,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +as he halted in the doorway, he perceived Mistress +Rose Standish lying in the bunk. A little of the +afternoon light sifted in through the tiny port-hole, +and by it he noted how her hair fell loosely about +her face, unlike the way she wore it when on deck; +but her cheeks were rosy as ever, and her voice +quite steady as she spoke: "It's you, the lad my +husband told me of? I thought I heard one +call you by name. Will you not do somewhat for +me, Miles? Fetch me my jug here full of water +again. Goodwife Tinker was to look to me to-day; +I felt very well this morning. But she's ill +now herself, and when I tried to rise,—" she laughed, +with a nervous catch in her laughter,—"why, then +things went whisking round me very strangely. But +you look as you still could stand stoutly, sir."</p> + +<p>"I'll fetch you the water, and gladly, mistress," +Miles answered, so eagerly that he stammered. He +stepped into the cabin to take the jug from where it +rested on a chest beneath the port-hole, and Dolly, +following shyly after, hesitated on the threshold.</p> + +<p>"Is this little maid your sister?" Mistress Standish +roused up to ask. "Won't you come in and +bear me company, sweetheart, while Miles fetches +the water?"</p> + +<p>Dolly plaited a fold of her apron between her +fingers and nodded dumbly.</p> + +<p>"That's well," said Mistress Standish. "Sit you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +down here on the chest by me. And I've some +raisins of the sun you shall have if you'll stay."</p> + +<p>"Dolly must not eat your raisins if you be sick." +Miles formulated the relentless principle which had +been enforced as regards himself when Dolly lay ill. +"And I'll fetch the water speedily." He stood a +moment on the threshold, balancing the jug in one +hand. "Mistress Standish," he blurted out, with +sudden resolution, "would you not rather have beer +than water?"</p> + +<p>"Than the water from the ship's casks, yes," she +answered; "but 'twill relish well enough, Miles. At +even, when Captain Standish comes, mayhap he'll +get me a draught of beer."</p> + +<p>"I'll get it for you now," Miles said cheerily, +and walked away, with his head up and the jug +swinging.</p> + +<p>Outside the door of the great cabin the chilly +rain, that stung finely on his cheeks, pricked him +alive to realization of what he had undertaken. +Since Christmas, when the supply of the Pilgrim +emigrants had given out, beer could be obtained +on board the <i>Mayflower</i> only from the ship's stores, +through the courtesy of Master Jones, the captain; +and he was a terrible person. Most times he +ranged about the high quarter-deck, where only the +chiefs of the Pilgrims dared go; once Francis +Billington, to show his daring, had clambered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +thither, and Master Jones, without parley, had bidden +his quartermaster, "Kick that young imp down +into Limbo, where he belongs." From that experience +Francis had been black and blue, and subdued +in manner for a week.</p> + +<p>So it was no wonder now that, for long minutes, +Miles stood shivering in the rain at the foot of the +companion ladder, while he tried to summon courage +to venture up. He might never have arrived +at such hardihood, had not Jones himself, strolling +forth upon the quarter-deck to study the weather, +observed him, and presently bellowed lustily: "What +beest thou staring up hither for, hey?"</p> + +<p>"I—I want to come up, if it like you, sir," +Miles piped quaveringly.</p> + +<p>"Then come up. Beelzebub fetch thee! What's +hindering thee?"</p> + +<p>Miles could have answered truly that it was a +loud-voiced, broad-shouldered man, with a bushy +gray beard, whose name was Jones, that hindered +him; but he thought best, even on so poor an invitation, +to scramble in silence up the steep ladder +to the quarter-deck. The wind there was high, so +he gripped the bulwark to keep erect.</p> + +<p>"Well, now thou art up, what is it thou wouldst +have?" roared Jones.</p> + +<p>"Beer, sir. For Captain Standish's wife. She +is ill."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p> + +<p>Master Jones hesitated a little minute, then +caught Miles by the collar of his doublet, and only +let go when he landed him within the roundhouse. +Miles said nothing to this, but his heart thumped +alarmingly at finding himself thus tumbled headlong +into the very lair of the Master. Yet the +roundhouse proved a harmless place, with its shipshape +bunks and table and stools; and one of the +mates, who lay upon a bunk, rose up at Jones's +bidding, to do nothing more formidable than fill +Miles's jug from a keg that stood in one corner.</p> + +<p>"Now see to it thou dost not filch the beer by +the way," grumbled Master Jones. "I be ready +to give to your Captain's wife, but not to fill the +stomach of every knavish lad on shipboard; dost +thou hear?"</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't take the beer that was meant for +Mistress Standish," Miles said indignantly.</p> + +<p>"Nay, but boys be a slippery race," growled the +Master. "The saints be blest I never had none!"</p> + +<p>Miles privately was glad of that, for he could not +help thinking how unhappy a boy would be, with +such an alarming father as Master Jones. Very +prudently, he did not say so, but, seizing his jug, +backed out of the roundhouse, almost too hastily +to say "Thank you."</p> + +<p>He had come back to a good conceit of himself, +however, by the time he had manœuvred safely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +down the ticklish ladder, and he walked in on Mistress +Standish and Dolly quite proudly. Mistress +Standish thanked him mightily, enough to make +Miles redden and shuffle his foot on the floor. +"But I liked to do it for you," he muttered.</p> + +<p>After that he was persuaded to sit down on the +chest beside Dolly, and tell Mistress Standish all +about how they were building houses on the shore, +and how he had gone to the Indian fields, and what +a wonderful dog Trug was. Dolly chimed in there +to tell what a rare pussy Solomon was, and how he +would leap over your hands. Then Mistress Standish, +who lay listening, and seemed to like their talk, +though she said little, bade Miles bring her a box +from a shelf against the wall, and in it, sure enough, +were a few big raisins and a small handful of currants.</p> + +<p>The sight was too much for Miles's scruples, +and when she urged the children eat of them, he +yielded, weakly as eager little Dolly. "We'll +take two raisins each," he said, with an effort at +firmness, "and three currants." Then, with a sigh, +he shut the box up tight, and ate his own share very +slowly.</p> + +<p>Dolly finished more speedily, and straightway +Mistress Standish urged her sing to them. "Dolly +told me while you were gone that she is wont to +sing to mother," she explained to Miles. "Now<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +I want her to sing to me. You shall have more +raisins if you will, Dolly, in spite of Brother Miles."</p> + +<p>Dolly was bashful, and, for all it was now murky +twilight, so faces were not plain to see, insisted on +sitting on the other side of Miles, where she could +hide behind him. Then, at last, she sang. "Though +it is a worldly song," she protested.</p> + +<p>"No matter. I am what your people call a +worldly woman," Mistress Standish answered.</p> + +<p>So Dolly cuddled up to Miles and sang:—</p> + +<div class='poem'>"Skip and trip it,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Hey non nonny!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">For the lark is in the clover,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And the fields are green and bonny,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And a dappled sky shows over.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Sing hey nonny nonny!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">'Tis blithe world and gay,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">When spring comes bonny</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And the winter packs away."</span><br /></div> + +<p>There Dolly broke off, short and sudden, and +Miles, looking to the dusky doorway, saw a man's +sturdy figure blocking it.</p> + +<p>"'Tis you come back, Miles?" Mistress Standish +spoke quickly. "Come you in and sit down. Your +namesake and his sister have been caring for me +bravely—"</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry," came the Captain's voice out of the +dark. "That is— You must be wearied now,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +sweetheart. Come, Miles, my soldier, I want to +speak with you."</p> + +<p>Miles wondered why, as he stepped out from the +cabin, the Captain troubled to put one arm about +his shoulders; he was pleased at the caress, yet +awkward in receiving it. "I want you to go in +here," said Captain Standish, leading him to the +cabin that the Brewsters had occupied. "Constance +Hopkins is waiting within to tell you somewhat. +And you must remember, Miles, that you are to +bear you like a man."</p> + +<p>Miles wrested round suddenly and faced the +Captain. There was a little dim lantern light in +this part of the great cabin, not enough for him +to read the other's face, but he could guess and +feel what was coming. "Has anything gone wrong +with my mother? Tell me; tell me, quick!" he +cried.</p> + +<p>"Not your mother, Miles. Your father."</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER VI<br /> + +<small>THE GOING LANDWARD</small></h2> + + +<div class='drop-cap'>GOODMAN RIGDALE had died that day +at noon; he had seemed sure of recovery, +but there came a sudden change, and, with +the ebbing of the tide, his life went out. So much +they made Miles understand, gently as they could. +Dolly cried with choked sobbings, and Constance +Hopkins, who had come out and taken the little +girl in her arms, cried too. But Miles, who sat +apart from the others, astride one of the benches, +did not cry,—just scowled before him in stupid +fashion, and half snarled, "Don't touch me," at +Goodwife Tinker and the other women who had +hastened up to sympathize.</div> + +<p>He was aware of the people about him and the +lantern light; that was all. Something inside him +seemed benumbed, and he did not care to talk, or +cry, or do aught but sit still. He listened to +Dolly; she was wailing now, "I want my mother. +Oh, take me to my mother!" He wished she +would hush; it worried him.</p> + +<p>Then he heard some one else speak: "Look +you, Captain; Will Trevor and I are fresh enough<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +to do 't, and there's the small boat belongs to the +shallop. And Rigdale's goodwife will be wanting +her bairns to-night. If you give the word, Will +and I, we'll row them ashore."</p> + +<p>Miles looked up and saw Ned Lister, his cap on +straight and his face earnest, speaking with the +Captain. He rose, and, a little unsteadily, pushed +the women aside, so he could clutch Ned's arm. +"I want to go ashore," he whispered chokedly. +"Take me now."</p> + +<p>"You shall go," said Captain Standish. "I'll +bid them make ready the boat."</p> + +<p>"You and the little wench get on your cloaks +briskly," Ned admonished, as he turned to follow +the Captain. "We'll be ready ere you be."</p> + +<p>Constance came down with the two children to +the cabin beneath the main deck. It seemed darker +and colder than ever before, and Dolly's cloak +strings were tied in a hard knot, and Miles could +not find his mittens. At the very last, as, in stupid +fashion, he searched for them a third time in a bag +that held some odds and ends of his mother's, he +heard Dolly cry, "Oh, Solomon, poor Solomon! +Don't leave him behind, Miles. I know they'll +not tend him. And daddy was fond of him."</p> + +<p>The cat was dozing among the blankets, but when +Miles, slow and uncomprehending, tried to seize +him, he took fright and ran beneath the bunk.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We've the boat ready. Quickly, Miles!" called +Ned Lister in the passageway.</p> + +<p>Miles saw Solomon's eyes shining yellow in the +dark beneath the bunk, and, making a grab, he +clutched the cat. The creature spit and clawed, but +Miles, with his hands bleeding, still clung to him, +and, headlong, thrust him into the bag that had held +their biscuit. One white paw came struggling out, +but the boy shoved it in roughly, and drew the +strings tight.</p> + +<p>"Wait, wait! Your cloak, Miles." Constance +detained him, and fastened his cloak about his neck. +Miles suffered her, like a very little boy, and then, +slinging Solomon's bag over one shoulder, he followed +Dolly up on deck.</p> + +<p>The rain, pelting on his cheeks and forehead, +half blinded him, and the faces of the men, seen fitfully +beneath the flaring light of the lantern at the +gangway, looked strange to him. Their voices had +no meaning, and they must repeat the question +when one asked: "What have you there, Miles? +Give me the bag; I'll hand it you."</p> + +<p>Miles shook his head and pressed the bag tighter +beneath his arm; he could feel the cat's soft body +writhing and struggling within. They brought him +over to the gangway ladder, and, holding by one +hand, he scrambled down it. How black the line +of bulwarks looked against the lantern light, as the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +ship heaved upward! There he half slipped, when +he felt some one catch him round the body, and +he was dropped down on the stern seat of the little +boat. Dolly pressed close to him, and, putting his +arm round her, he held tight to her and to Solomon. +They had turned the lantern now so the light flashed +into the boat, and he realized it was Lister who sat +upon the forward thwart, and the other man, who +was standing up to push them off from the ship's +side, was the sailor, Will Trevor.</p> + +<p>At last they were clear, out on the wide, rough +water, and, with a motion of spitting on his hands, +Trevor dropped into his seat and gripped his oar. +As the boat swung round, Miles had sight of the +black bulk of the <i>Mayflower</i>, with a lantern gleaming +on her high quarter-deck and another just receding +from her gangway. Then, as the boat headed +for the shore, he could see the ship only by turning +his head, and that was too great an effort to make.</p> + +<p>The thole-pins creaked, and the water slapped +against the prow. The waves were running high, +and, as the little boat leaped them, she seemed to +throb through her frame. The oars and the sea that +wrestled together made the only sound, for the rain +that dropped steadily was a quiet rain, and the men +who rowed for the most part kept silent. Once, to +be sure, Trevor growled: "How're we heading, +Ned?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p> + +<p>Miles noted dully how Lister rested on his oar +and turned his face landward. "I can just make +out a light," he answered. "Pest on this rain! +More to larboard we must run."</p> + +<p>For another space they tugged at the oars in +silence, while Miles stared unheedingly into the +dark, till suddenly Trevor called, "Hey, lad, what's +wrong wi' thy bag?"</p> + +<p>Solomon's struggles had loosed the fastenings, +Miles found; he thrust the animal back and tied the +strings again, slowly and stiffly, for his hands were +cold and sore too, where they had been scratched.</p> + +<p>"What sort o' luggage be ye travelling with?" +Trevor asked, between strokes, in a tone that was +so amused that Miles felt an angry shock: what +right had the sailor to find any merriment in life, +while Dolly was sobbing so? Next moment the +anger passed, and instead, Miles wondered that +Dolly should cry, for it was not true, whatever they +had said; his father would surely come forth from +the Common House to meet them, and he would +look just as Miles had seen him on that last day.</p> + +<p>Yonder beneath the black bluff shone a light. +Miles could see it now, and he stared unthinkingly, +till it grew larger and brighter, and then a sudden +jar almost threw him from his seat. "I'll hold her +steady," spoke Trevor. "Do thou get out the +younkers, Ned."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Come, come, Miley, are you asleep?" said +Lister. Miles saw him kneeling on the rock close +beside him, holding the boat's gunwale with one +hand, and with the other outstretched. "Give me +the bag. Now then, steady. Ah! You did yourself +hurt?"</p> + +<p>Miles picked himself up from the rock where he +had fallen; his knees were aching, and he suddenly +felt he should like to cry. "Yes, I hurt me," he +said dazedly. "Give me Solomon."</p> + +<p>He made his way, groping through the dark, to +the path beneath the bluff that led up to the settlement. +The ground had thawed, so broad puddles +had formed; he must have splashed into one, for, +as he stepped, his shoes squeaked with water. Ned +Lister strode up alongside him, with Dolly gathered +in his arms. "You come with me up to the Elder's +house, Miley," he said breathlessly, for Ned was +wiry, rather than robust, and Dolly was a heavy little +maid.</p> + +<p>All the way up the hill Miles had a sickening +sense of awaking to something full of dread. The +ground and the sky and the dimly seen houses were +now all real; he felt the rain and the cold and the +weight of the bag on his arm, and he began to realize +that what had happened also was no dream.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" he cried, with a sudden hard gasp, and, +dropping the bag, broke into a run. He stumbled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +and slipped, but pantingly he held on till he reached +the Brewsters' cottage. From one of the tiny windows +a light shone forth, but it blinded without aiding +him. He fumbled a moment at the heavy door, +then, grasping the rude latch at last, thrust it open +with his shoulder, and plunged headlong into the +common room.</p> + +<p>On the hearth, opposite the door, a fire blazed, +and on the table flickered a candle. Spite of the +dazzle of sudden light, Miles made out a woman, +just turning from the fire, and, knowing her for the +Elder's wife, ran to her. "Where's my mother, my +mother?" he cried.</p> + +<p>"Hush, hush, Miles! You must quiet yourself +ere you see her," Mistress Brewster urged, never so +gently.</p> + +<p>But there came from an adjoining room his +mother's voice: "Miles, I am here. Come to me."</p> + +<p>The narrow chamber was dark, but, seated in the +far corner, he could distinguish a woman's bowed +figure, and, stumbling heavily across the floor, he +flung himself on his knees beside her. "Mother! +Oh, mother!" he choked, and, burying his face in her +lap, burst out crying.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER VII<br /> + +<small>THE MAN OF THE FAMILY</small></h2> + + +<div class='drop-cap'>AT first Miles found a jarring unfitness in +everyday life. Only eight and forty hours +before, they had buried his father on the +bluff overlooking the harbor; they had read no +prayers over the dead, as the ministers did in England, +and, lest the savages should spy and note how +few the colonists were becoming, they had levelled +the grave, like the many round about it. A raw +wind had blown from off the sea, so Goodwife Rigdale +shivered as she stood by the grave, and Miles's +hands were senseless with the cold.</div> + +<p>Now it was over, and Goodman Rigdale dead and +buried, but life went on, just as usual. Goodwife +Rigdale helped Mistress Brewster prepare food, and +ate of it herself; and Love and Wrestling, sorry +though they had been for their playmates' sorrow, +frolicked gayly with Solomon, whom Ned Lister +had brought to the cottage, bag and all. By the +second day, though her eyes were still heavy with +crying, and her mouth tremulous, Dolly plucked up +spirit to join the boys. Even earlier, Miles had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> +begun to fetch wood and water for Mistress Brewster, +lay the fire, and help where he could; if only +everything had stopped for a time, till he could +realize what had happened and master himself, he +felt he could bear it; but the petty acts of living +would go on.</p> + +<p>In such a mood of wretchedness he trudged forth +on the third morning, up the path beyond the spring, +to fetch sticks from the edge of the wood where the +trees had been felled. He gathered the fagots, +and was trying to tie them strongly, as his father +tied the swamp grass that last day they worked together, +when he saw Francis Billington, also in +search of wood, drawing near.</p> + +<p>"Why, Miles!" the newcomer greeted him, +in some surprise, for in these days Miles avoided +his old comrades. But now there was no avoiding +till the wood was tied up, so Francis came to him +and, a bit awed, tried clumsily to be sympathetic. +"I'll help you tie that wood, Miles."</p> + +<p>"I c'n do 't alone."</p> + +<p>"Look you, my daddy's going fowling to-day. +Mayhap he'll take us."</p> + +<p>"I don't want to go," snapped Miles, with a +sick sort of anger that other boys still could talk of +their fathers.</p> + +<p>"You might at least be civil to a body," Francis +said rather huffily. "What need to carry such a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> +face for it, Miles? You were mortal afeard of your +father while he lived. And now he can never flog +you no more."</p> + +<p>Without warning, other than a small catching of +the breath, Miles sprang to his feet and struck the +speaker in the face. Francis, thoroughly surprised, +hit back, and, clenching, they pitched over among +the crackling sticks. Miles fell uppermost, and, +hardly realizing how or why, he was pommelling +Francis lustily, when a mighty hand heaved him +up by the scruff of the neck. "You must not +strike a man when he is already worsted," spoke +the voice of long-legged John Alden.</p> + +<p>Miles stood biting his lips that twitched. "'A' +shall not say—" he began, and there his voice broke. +"Oh, I wish he could flog me again!"</p> + +<p>Alden stared a moment, then, with sudden understanding, +swung round upon the whimpering Francis +and rated him mightily, while Miles, glad not to be +noticed, caught up his bundle of wood and stumbled +away toward the settlement.</p> + +<p>Yet this was the last outward showing of the +boy's grief. Little by little, as the busy days came, +he found himself fitting into his new life, and at +length even taking a certain zest in it. For he +was now man of the family, and the cares he felt +called on to shoulder did not a little to distract him +from any sorry broodings. He must work with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> +his full strength, wherever they sent him and whoever +bade him; he must keep flibbertigibbet Dolly +out of mischief; above all, he must run after his +mother, as she went about to nurse the many sick +of the settlement, and see to it that she did not catch +cold or come to any harm.</p> + +<p>The greatest and most important labor, however, +he did in the earlier days of his loss, when he went +to fetch his father's goods from the <i>Mayflower</i>. +Others might have said the work was done by Ned +Lister, for Master Hopkins, who had promised +Goodman Rigdale to look to his family, so far as +he was able, sent him about this task; but Miles, +who was sure he was the leader and Ned only the +assistant, felt the whole expedition a tribute to his +own new-come manliness.</p> + +<p>They went out in the shallop to the <i>Mayflower</i> +on a morning so bright and open that it scarcely +recalled to Miles his coming from the ship. Once +aboard, to be sure, the half-homesick pang laid +hold on him, when he scrambled down to the little +cabin that had sheltered him so long; but there +was so much to do he soon cast it off. The +bedding must be tied up securely, and the pots +and platters loaded into the biggest kettle; and +Ned, who had a coughing fit and said he didn't +feel very well, let Miles do it all. He recovered, +however, in time to help drag the stuff to the deck,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> +and to get up from the orlop a small chest of +Goodman Rigdale's; and he was also selfish enough +to take charge himself of the loud, manly labor of +transferring the goods to the shallop.</p> + +<p>Somewhat disappointed, Miles clambered down +again to the cabin to fetch the box with Dolly's +Indian basket, and, when he came back, the shallop +was so near ready to push off that he had only +time to drop into the bow beside Lister. Glancing +round the great sail toward the stern, where such +other passengers as were going from the ship were +placed, he caught sight of Captain Standish, who +sat stiffly, with one arm about the muffled figure +of a woman. "Yon is Mistress Standish, is it +not?" Miles questioned Lister, very softly.</p> + +<p>His companion nodded. "Set to come ashore, +poor lass!" he answered, in the same low tone. +"'Tis the last trip she'll ever make in the shallop." +This Ned spoke sympathetically; then had no +further leisure to talk for settling himself comfortably +with his back against Goodman Rigdale's bedding.</p> + +<p>Miles moved a little to give Ned room, but, +without heeding him, continued to gaze at Captain +Standish and Mistress Rose. He could not see +her face for the hood about her head and the cloak +drawn up above her chin, but he marked the listless +droop of her whole body; and he noted, too, how<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +the Captain sat with his eyes looking straight out +and his mouth hard. Miles wondered if what +Lister said of Mistress Standish were true, and, +what with wondering and watching, was taken by +surprise and nearly overset when the shallop bumped +up to the landing place.</p> + +<p>For a moment he lingered by the boat, feigning +to busy himself with unlading the kettle, while he +watched Mistress Standish. The Captain and +Alden, who was waiting at the landing, helped her +from the boat, and half carried her away between +them up the hill. The Captain's face was still so +grave and stern, that Miles was a trifle frightened, +and very sorry; he wished he were a man like +John Alden, so he could have spoken to the Captain +and helped Mistress Standish.</p> + +<p>Then he had to think of other matters, for Ned, +with an access of energy, was tumbling the goods +ashore, and they must together drag them up to +the Elder's house. Just at present that was home +to Miles, because his mother and Dolly lived there, +and he sometimes ate with them, though, as an +additional mark of manhood,—so he esteemed it,—he +spent his nights at the Common House.</p> + +<p>It really came about because his friends could not +shelter him. Goodwife Rigdale and Dolly had the +last spare bed at the Elder's house; the cottage +higher up the hill, on which Goodman Rigdale had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +labored, and where Goodman Cooke and Jack had +now one bunk, was filled with men whose houses +were building; while Master Hopkins, however +well he might mean by his friend's son, had not a +roof to cover his own family. So Miles slept with +Giles Hopkins at the Common House, where at +night the beds were placed so thick one need not +step on the floor in passing from the fire to his +sleeping place.</p> + +<p>On Sunday all was changed, however, for then +the Common House became a meeting-house. +They tucked the beds up in corners, and swept the +floor, as Miles knew to his cost, for on this, his +second Saturday on the mainland, they pressed him +into the service. Twice on the Sabbath the Elder +taught his little company, and prayed with them +there,—a sorry little company indeed, of whom +fair half lay sick within the cheerless cabins, or dead +beneath the level ground of the harbor bluff.</p> + +<p>The thought of his own dead father made Miles +listen attentively that day; and, when he walked +staidly up to the Elder's house before twilight, he +took Dolly apart into his mother's cold little chamber, +where he read to her from Goodman Rigdale's +black-letter Bible. He was a painful reader, but he +felt it was the fit thing for him to do in filling his +father's place, so, with the great book on his knees, +he sat on the floor, beneath the little window that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +let in the light sparsely through its oiled paper, and +Dolly sat by him, with her head on his shoulder. +He was much elated at finding her so quiet and attentive, +but, when he paused to recover breath at the +end of a very tough sentence about the Perizzites, +he perceived the little girl was fast asleep.</p> + +<p>Miles did not wake her; just sat with the Bible +in his lap and his stiffening arm round his sister +till, when it had grown darker, his mother came to +seek them. He had nothing to say to his mother +that night, but afterward it was something to remember +keenly, though with an under-pang of +sorrow, how he had sat close by her in the dark +and had felt her hand rest on his head.</p> + +<p>Next day was dreary with rain and sleet, and a +dull twilight that, closing in early, drove Miles into +the house, where he played at Even-and-Odd with +the little Brewsters and Dolly, very quietly, because +the Elder was writing at the table. Elder +Brewster was always kindly-spoken, but the fact +that he knew such a deal about the next world, and +what would befall you if you were not good, put +Miles in great awe of him.</p> + +<p>When he went forth at length, Miles, feeling +more like himself, raised his voice, and even let the +trenchers clatter while he and Dolly laid the table. +But he had no desire to be noisy, when, late in the +evening, the Elder returned from the house where<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> +the sick lay. A word or two passed between the +older folk that sent Miles with a whispered question +to his mother, who told him simply that Mistress +Rose Standish had died that evening.</p> + +<p>Dolly cried, because she was a foolish girl, but it +did not stir Miles so deeply. Indeed, he did not +come to feel a hearty grief till next morning, when, +as he climbed the hill to Elder Brewster's cottage, +he saw Captain Standish, grim and set-faced, trudging +up to the woods through the sleet and rain. +The weather was too bitter for work, and the axe +which the Captain carried was, Miles guessed, a mere +pretext. All through the day it made him shiver to +think of the solitary man, lingering in the cold +among the pines; he wondered if even to himself +the Captain would make pretense of working, or if +he would sit idle among the wet logs.</p> + +<p>But forty-eight hours later the Captain was going +and coming and working among the rest, just as +before, though maybe a bit more silent. For the +hale ones who could labor were few; the work must +be done; and, where so many were falling, there +was small space to grieve for a single life.</p> + +<p>Miles had even grown somewhat blunted to the +sight of the sorry little companies that twice and +even thrice a week trudged with the body of a +friend or kinsman to the bluff above the harbor. +His own life went on methodically; he worked, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> +even played with Jack Cooke and Trug, and some +days, when he was allowed to go fowling with Ned +Lister and Giles Hopkins, fairly enjoyed himself.</p> + +<p>But Ned began presently to have coughing fits +even when he was bidden to go hunting, though +Miles, who had grown distrustful of his convenient +illness, urged him to "have done with fooling and +come along." One morning in February, when +Lister, instead of going about his work, was wasting +his time thus with Miles and Jack and Giles by the +fire in Goodman Cooke's cottage, came another to +urge him, no less a one than Master Hopkins. +Miles remembered a long time the terrible rating +he gave Ned for his laziness and trickery, and he +wondered that the young man sat with his head +leaning on his fist, and flung back but a single protest: +"I can judge better than you, sir, whether I be +ill or not. 'Tis my head that's aching, not yours."</p> + +<p>To which Master Hopkins retorted grimly that, +if there were a whipping post in the colony, something +besides Ned's head would ache.</p> + +<p>Then, for that there was no help for it, Lister took +his fowling piece and slouched away from the fire. +"I'm going, since you drive me," he said sulkily, +"but these youngsters need not follow at my heels. +'Twill be all I can do to fetch myself home again, +let alone three brats."</p> + +<p>Much disappointed, Miles spent the day in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +less joyous labor of fetching and carrying on the +great hill, where they were putting the last touches +to the platform on which the guns were to be +mounted. He came to be interested, none the +less, when Goodman Cooke told him how, in a +few days, they would drag the guns up the hill and +put them in place. That would be a brave thing +to see, Miles thought, for the sailors from the +<i>Mayflower</i> were to come ashore and help, and the +street from the hill to the landing place would be +noisy and busy. Not so busy, though, as the crew +of the <i>Mayflower</i> would have made it a month +before, for the sickness now had settled on the +ship, where it was raging unchecked.</p> + +<p>At dusk, as Miles came down from the hill, he +chanced on Master Hopkins, still grumbling at +Lister, who bade him go see if that malingerer +were loitering anywhere in the settlement. It +seemed a spying errand, but, not thinking of disobedience, +Miles started down the street. Nearest +the shore stood the Common House, the house for +the sick, and the storehouse, all three of which, to +make the search complete, he visited.</p> + +<p>In the big main room of the sick-house lay the +men who were ill, and, as Miles stepped in, on +tiptoe because of his heavy shoes, the first thing he +saw beneath the candlelight was Ned Lister's black +head, half hidden under the coverlets of one of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> +bunks. Miles stole up to him. "Why, Ned, ha' +you cheated the Doctor himself?" he whispered +cheerfully.</p> + +<p>Lister raised his head and looked at him, with +his eyes very bright. "I'm cheating you all; yes," +he said, with a laugh. "Go tell Hopkins be more +cautious next time how he wastes so good a property +as a serving man. A pity! If I die he'll be out +my passage-money. Well, I always owed him a +grudge for bringing me to this forsaken country, +and I'll even scores now."</p> + +<p>The thought seemed to please Ned mightily, for +he laughed, till Doctor Fuller, stepping from the +inner room, sharply bade him hush. "Get you to +Master Hopkins and tell him the man is ill," he +ordered Miles; and, as he let the boy out at the +door, added, for his ear alone, "very ill."</p> + +<p>Somehow Ned's overthrow frightened Miles more +than any other illness. Lister had always seemed +so tough and wiry that his succumbing at last set the +boy to asking himself, in some fright, if he, too, +might not fall ill. A soreness in his throat or an +ache in his head made him nervous. He questioned +Jack minutely as to how he felt before he +was taken sick, and then he began at once to feel +as Jack had felt. He started to tell his mother and +get her to comfort him, but then he was ashamed; +she was busy and anxious all the time for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +people she was called on to nurse, and he was a +great, strong boy, who, of course, would not be +sick.</p> + +<p>But one day his head ached in good earnest—no +imagination; and next morning the ache was +worse, so he was too stupid even to go out. +Wrestling Brewster was ailing too, so Dolly and +Love stayed by his bed to amuse him, and Miles +was left quite alone. All day he sat toasting himself +by the fire, till he was too warm and was sure +his head ached because of the heat, so out he went, +and tramped up and down the street till his teeth +chattered with cold. He wanted no supper, but he +went back to the house to bid his mother good +night and get to bed early.</p> + +<p>"Mother came home very weary and has lain +down within," Dolly said, so he went into the bedroom. +A cold light streamed in at the little window, +but the corners of the low room were dark and the +pallet was in shadow. His mother was stretched +upon it, with the cloak that had been his father's +wrapped round her, but at his step she raised her +head. "It's you, my lad?" she asked, and reached +out her hand.</p> + +<p>"I came in to give you good night, mother," he +said, in his manliest tone, because it made him +proud to think he was hiding his illness from her. +"I'll mess at the Common House to-night."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> + +<p>She put up her hand, and, drawing his head +down to her, kissed him. Her cheek felt hot as +it pressed against his, and even in the dim light he +noted that her face was flushed, but his head ached +so lamentably that he made nothing of it. "Why, +deary, you're not ill?" he heard her say.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, no, mother. No more ill than you," +he answered bravely, and, bidding her good night, +went softly out of the room.</p> + +<p>The west was all a chill yellow, and a northerly +breeze was astir that set Miles shivering long before +he reached the Common House. There a fire was +alight that looked comforting, and, going up to it, +he snuggled down in a corner of the hearth. At +the table of boards laid on trestles some of the men +were eating their supper, but Miles was sick at the +mere thought of food. He sat staring and staring +into the heart of the flames, where he could see the +outlines of the farmhouse at home, and then he saw +nothing, but he faintly heard steps upon the floor, +and somebody caught him up.</p> + +<p>"What are you falling on the fire in that fashion +for, eh?" one asked, and the man who held him—he +had a vague notion it was Alden—questioned, +"What's wrong, lad?"</p> + +<p>"Oh—h!" wailed Miles, "I think I'm dying."</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER VIII<br /> + +<small>IN THE TIME OF THE SICKNESS</small></h2> + + +<div class='drop-cap'>TO be sure, Miles did not die, but for some +days he lay in the sick-house, too ill to +give much heed to what went on about +him, or take thought for anything save his own +misery. From a mass of hazy recollections one or +two moments of that time afterward came back +clearly.</div> + +<p>One such memory was of a dim morning within +the cheerless room, when, through the familiar +patter, patter of rain on the oiled paper at the +windows, he heard a latch creak somewhere and +men tread cautiously. Turning weakly on his +pillow, Miles looked to the door that led to +the inner room, where the sick women lay, and +he saw Goodman Cooke and Edward Dotey come +forth, stepping carefully, and carrying on a stretcher +between them something that was muffled up and +motionless. He turned his face again to the wall, +and neither thought nor reasoned of what it meant,—just +listened to the lulling patter of the rain.</p> + +<p>The other time of which he kept remembrance +was a crisp night, when the whiff of wind that blew<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> +in at the outer door, as it was opened, smelt fresh +and good, and Cooke, who came to tend the fire, +piled the logs high. Dozing and waking, Miles +watched through half-closed eyelids the crowded +pallets about him, and the shadows that flickered +up and down the rough walls. He must have slept +a moment, but he roused up suddenly to see in the +waning firelight Elder Brewster, who bent over him +with a cup of drink. Leaning against the arm that +supported him, Miles swallowed the draught obediently, +and then the Elder, with more care than he +usually had time to bestow on a single patient, +laid him down and drew the coverings round him. +"Poor little lad!" Miles heard him say, under his +breath. "God comfort you!"</p> + +<p>Miles wondered a little, but, too stupid greatly +to heed what was said, soon dropped to sleep once +more.</p> + +<p>The crisis of his sickness must have passed +on that night, for a day or two later he felt enough +like himself to swallow with some relish a dish +of broth. Ned Lister, packed out from the sick-house +while still convalescent, to make room for +others, fetched him the broth, and helped him eat, +with a choking great spoon that made the process +slow. Miles wondered whether Ned had grown +thin or his clothes had grown baggy; perhaps 'twas +a little of both.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then, on the idle wonderment, followed more +serious thought, and, speaking slowly and weakly, +he asked, as Lister settled him in his pallet again: +"Tell me, Ned, why has not my mother been here +to nurse me, as she did you and the others?"</p> + +<p>"Haven't you been well enough looked to, +Miley?" questioned Ned, bending down to tie his +shoestrings.</p> + +<p>"'Tis just the men have cared for me."</p> + +<p>"Well, you're a man yourself, and want only men +to look to you, eh?"</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not a man," said Miles, the ready tears +of sickness welling into his eyes, "and I want my +mother."</p> + +<p>"I heard she had a touch of the fever herself," +answered Ned, still busy with his shoes. "We're all +helpless with it, Miles. There's only seven of us now +that can crawl about to do aught. And the Captain +and the Elder are working each like three. By the +Lord, those be two good fellows!" This earnestly, +for Ned; and then, gathering up his bowl and spoon, +he walked away to minister to the next sick man.</p> + +<p>Every one ill, and the care of the whole colony +on the shoulders of seven men, some half sick themselves! +Miles realized vaguely that he ought to be +patient and not fret at anything, but still the next +two days of his slow convalescence were long and +hard to bear.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span></p> + +<p>He was glad enough, one dim morning that +seemed like all the others, when the Elder came +into the sick-room with Dolly at his side. "The +little wench begged to come to you, Miles," he said, +as he seated her on the edge of the boy's pallet. +"But she is to talk only few words, and softly, +because there are others lying here very ill."</p> + +<p>So soon as he had turned and left the children to +themselves, Dolly bent and dabbed a kiss upon her +brother's chin. "Though you make me shy, near +as if you were a stranger, Miles," she explained, in +a subdued whisper, "you are grown so peaked, and +your eyes are so very round."</p> + +<p>Miles smiled weakly, but happily, it was so good +to see the face of one of his own people. "I'm +glad you came, Dolly," he said, drawing her hand +tremulously into his. "Mother will soon come +too, will she not? Why did she not come with +you?"</p> + +<p>A choke made Dolly's whisper broken: "She—could +not."</p> + +<p>"Is she ill?"</p> + +<p>Dolly nodded, with a piteous face.</p> + +<p>Miles's thin fingers gripped her hand fast. "Dolly, +she isn't—dead?" His voice rose high and frightened.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you mustn't, Miles," Dolly gasped. "And +I can't tell you. They said I must not speak of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> +her to you. Oh, Miles, Miles, she has been dead +these four days!"</p> + +<p>They carried Dolly away, the mischief done, and +Miles, hiding his head beneath the bedclothes, cried +so long as strength was in him. Then he lay watching +the red and orange streaks that flashed before +his tight-closed eyes, and, thinking how stuffy it was +beneath the coverlets, wondered if perhaps he would +not smother. He hoped he would, so he had a +first sensation of fretful disappointment, when some +one uncovered his head; and then, as he caught the +clearer air on his face and looked up at Captain +Standish, felt vaguely comforted.</p> + +<p>"Drink you this, lad," spoke the Captain, gruffly, +yet, Miles realized, with vast pity in his tone. +"Then sleep."</p> + +<p>"I'll—try," swallowed Miles.</p> + +<p>"That's well. Bear it soldierly, as we all must."</p> + +<p>"Like a soldier," Miles repeated over and over +to himself, and, shutting his lips, pressed his head +into the bolster, till, worn-out, he slept.</p> + +<p>When he awoke, the realization of his loss returned, +keen almost as ever; but he was a healthy +lad, so inevitably strength came back to him, and +with it, little by little, as he mastered it in silence, +his grief abated. Those about him were kind, too, +and did what they could to comfort him. Captain +Standish himself cared for him; Ned Lister and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +Giles visited him often; and once they even let +poor, guilty Dolly come to see him. She fetched +in her arms fat Solomon, who yowled so piteously +that, just inside the door, Doctor Fuller, who was +up and able to tend his sick again, made her put +him down, whereupon the cat fled home, fast as +four legs could bear him.</p> + +<p>"'Twas such a pity when I fetched him so far to +see you," Dolly lamented to Miles, as she exhibited +the scratches on her hands, "but he will go +home safe to Mistress Brewster's house. He likes +it there, and so do I. I am going to live there +always with Love and Wrestling and Priscilla Mullins. +She made me a poppet of a piece of scarlet +cloth, and I called it after her. I shall bring it to +show you next time, though you'll laugh at it, +because you are a boy. Indeed, I do like it at +Mistress Brewster's. If only mammy and daddy +were there too!" she added, in a lower tone.</p> + +<p>Elder Brewster himself had, at the very first, +paused by Miles's bed, and spoken gravely to him +of how his mother was now in a more blessed place, +and he must try always to be a good boy, so some +day he might join her. Though he listened dutifully, +Miles did not care for the Elder's admonitions +as much as he cared for Mistress Brewster's +words. Newly risen from her sick-bed, she came to +him, and, sitting by his pallet, whispered him of his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +mother, and how, before she died, she had left her +love for him, and bidden him always be a good lad +and a good brother to the little wench. "Though +my lad will be that without my bidding," Alice +Rigdale had added. "He has always been a good +little son to me."</p> + +<p>Miles listened, with his face held stolid; it was +only when Mistress Brewster bent and kissed him, +like his mother, that he blinked fast and turned +away his head.</p> + +<p>Day by day he grew stronger, till he sat up in +bed, and then, by slow stages, was suffered to put +on his clothes and walk staggeringly across the +room. The next advance was his going out into +the air, which would doubtless have been longer +deferred if any one had had time to give close heed +to the sick boy. But Doctor Fuller was busied elsewhere, +and the Elder was looking to others of the +sick folk, so, one morning when Lister had helped +Miles into his clothes, the boy took matters into +his own hands by slipping out at the door.</p> + +<p>It was a rare, mild March day, with a tender wind +of the spring that came from the western woods. +The earth was soft beneath the foot; the few bushes +that clambered up the bluff across the way were +bursting with brown buds; and the blue harbor +dazzled under the vivid sunlight. Leaning against +the doorpost, Miles joyfully drank in the freshness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> +of the morning, though his eyes grew wistful +as he looked again to the bluff yonder where were +the levelled graves.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 325px;"> +<img src="images/i_117.jpg" width="325" height="500" alt="man washing talking to another man" /> +<div class="caption">"'Do you like to do it, Captain Standish?'"</div> +</div> + +<p>Presently he summoned up his strength, and, +stepping cautiously off the doorstone, picked his +way round to the east side of the house, where the +sun was warmest. Here the ground was trodden +and bare, save for the chips scattered about the logs, +of which there was a great heap stacked against the +house-wall. At the other side of the pile, a tub of +water rested on a great block, and, most marvellous +of all, over the tub, busily washing a mass of bed-linen, +bent Captain Standish.</p> + +<p>Miles caught his breath in a gasp of surprise that +made the Captain look up. "So you're well recovered, +Miles?" he asked cheerily.</p> + +<p>The boy nodded, and set himself down on the +woodpile.</p> + +<p>"Cast on my doublet, there beside you, if you +will be sitting here," said Standish, and, shaking +the water off his hands, came and wrapped the +garment about Miles.</p> + +<p>Snuggling down against the sunny logs, Miles +gravely watched the Captain. He washed the +clothes deliberately, with a good deal of sober +splashing and a lavish use of soap; and then he +wrung them so vigorously that the muscles of his +bared arms stood out. So earnest and busy did he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +seem about the undignified task that, before he +thought, Miles blurted out: "Do you like to do it, +Captain Standish?"</p> + +<p>"Not in the least," the Captain answered cheerfully, +as he twisted a sheet so hard that a jet of +water spurted over the front of his shirt, "not in +the least, Miles. But there's no one else to do it, +and it must needs be done."</p> + +<p>Miles pondered a moment. "I take it, that's +how it is with living; somebody has to," he said +at length.</p> + +<p>"And somebody is right glad to," Captain Standish +answered, with a quick glance at Miles. "You +must get well and run about and do a man's share +of the work that's before us, and you'll soon be rid +of any heavy thoughts."</p> + +<p>Miles sat still in the sunlight, and, reflecting +vaguely, called to mind that, if his father and +mother both were dead, Mistress Rose Standish, +who was all the Captain had, likewise rested yonder +on the bluff. Out of the fullness of knowledge the +Captain was trying once more to teach him how to +bear all bravely, he guessed, so he began stoutly: +"Yes, I'm going to be a man, sir. Because now I'll +have to take care of Trug and Dolly and Solomon."</p> + +<p>Captain Standish smiled a little, as he gathered +the wet clothes into his arms. "You're a true man +already, Miles," he said. "At least, you're a man<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> +in the way you group your women-folk with your +cattle."</p> + +<p>After the Captain had gone behind the house to +hang out his wash, Miles rested a time very thoughtful. +The sunlight was warm and pleasant, and southward +across the harbor the great bluff was dense with +evergreen. A brave world, and he was going to do +a brave part in it, as his mother had looked for him +to do.</p> + +<p>A step upon the chips made him rouse up just as +Master Hopkins came leisurely round the woodpile. +His face was pale, for he, too, had been +touched with the sickness, and his manner was +kinder than Miles had ever known in him. "So +you're hale again, Miles Rigdale? Do you think +you could make shift to walk up the hill to my +house?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," Miles replied promptly. The house +that Master Hopkins was building when Miles fell +sick stood just across the street from the Elder's, +and the boy had made up his mind to drag himself +to the latter's cottage that day. It made his heart +quicken to think of seeing again the rooms where +his mother had lived that last month, and of talking +with Dolly and Mistress Brewster. He hoped, too, +that if he got up to the house they would keep him +there to supper, perhaps all night. So he answered +Master Hopkins's question confidently and happily:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +"Yes, sir. I can surely walk that far up the +hill."</p> + +<p>"That's well," said Master Hopkins; "you shall +eat dinner with us this noontime."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir," Miles answered, not overjoyed, +but civilly.</p> + +<p>"I'll take you to the house with me when I go +back thither," the other pursued. "You understand, +you are to dwell with me hereafter."</p> + +<p>When Captain Standish returned from his drying +ground, Stephen Hopkins had gone on down to the +landing, and against the logs huddled a piteous-faced +small boy, who at sight of him cried: "Captain +Standish, Master Hopkins says I must live +with him."</p> + +<p>"Do you not wish to?" asked Standish, nonchalantly, +and, tipping the water out of his tub, set +himself down on the block where it had rested.</p> + +<p>"I'd rather go anywhere else in Plymouth, unless +'twas to Goodwife Billington. Must I go to him, +Captain Standish?" Forgetting his usual respectful +demeanor, Miles rose, and, stumbling the few steps +to the Captain, leaned against his knee. "I thought—maybe +I should go with Dolly to Mistress Brewster," +he said in a low voice.</p> + +<p>Standish suddenly put one arm about him. "A +pity it couldn't be so, Miles! But the Elder's +house is full, and at Master Hopkins's there's half<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +a bed; you can sleep with Giles. In any case, +Master Hopkins was your father's kinsman."</p> + +<p>"I could go to Goodman Cooke," pleaded Miles. +"Or—or—I wish I could live with you."</p> + +<p>Standish laughed outright, though when he spoke +his voice was gentle: "I would take you, laddie, +and be glad to, if things were—as I thought they +would be. Rose had a liking for you." He +stopped short, and Miles, looking up in some awe, +noted that his eyes were fixed on the blue harbor, +yet he seemed to see nothing of it. When he spoke +again, his tone was quick and altered: "But as things +have fallen out, John Alden and I are sleeping in an +unfinished cabin and eating where we can find a bite. +And a little young fellow like you would be better +off in a household where there are women than with +two clumsy men. So they have arranged it all for +your best good."</p> + +<p>Miles nodded, not trusting his voice to speak. +He was thinking of what the Captain had said about +being a man and things that had to be done, and he +meant to make a good showing before him. "I +like Giles," he began slowly, "and I like Constance, +and Ned Lister will be there too; I'll try +to like Master Hopkins—if he'll let me bring +Trug."</p> + +<p>So he had put on quite a brave face by the +time Master Hopkins came to fetch him to his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> +new home. To him it was all so much a matter of +course that he offered no explanations or commonplace +cheering words to Miles; just bade him come, +and soberly led the way up the hill. Miles, with +his feet like lead and his brave resolution flagging, +loitered half-heartedly behind him, till Master Hopkins +turned. "You're not yet as strong as you +thought, Miles Rigdale?" he said gravely, but +kindly enough, and, lifting the boy in his arms, +carried him up the hill.</p> + +<p>Miles rested passive, one arm thrown perfunctorily +about Master Hopkins's neck, and wished he were +anywhere else.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER IX<br /> + +<small>MASTER HOPKINS'S GUEST</small></h2> + + +<div class='poem'> +"'In Wakefield there lives a jolly pinder,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">In Wakefield all on a green,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">In Wakefield all on a green,—'</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class='drop-cap'>THERE, there, Damaris! Hushaby, hushaby! Go +to sleep, like a good lass."</div> + +<p>Damaris gurgled at Miles with a provokingly +wide-awake crow. "I never saw such a bad baby," +sighed the little boy. "Do go to sleep, honey.</p> + +<div class='center'>'In Wakefield there lives a jolly pinder,—'"<br /></div> + +<p>"Oh, Miles," laughed Constance Hopkins, who, +standing at the rude table, was scouring the biggest +kettle, "you have sung that half a score of times. +Is there no other song you know?"</p> + +<p>"It is no time for the child to sleep now," interrupted +Mistress Hopkins. "I'll wrap her up, and, +since 'tis so mild a morning, you may take her forth +into the air."</p> + +<p>"O dear!" thought Miles, "I'm a man, not a +nurse." He never considered that it was any kindness +on his new guardians' part when, instead of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> +putting him to heavy outdoor tasks, they set him +to minding the baby and helping about the house. +"Like a girl," Miles told himself, with an indignant +sniff. It was not two weeks since he left the sick-house, +and his legs were still a little uncertain, but +he was sure he was fit to work again, or, at any rate, +fit to run away and play with the other boys.</p> + +<p>But he took the baby now and walked forth +meekly, because he lived in some dread of Mistress +Elizabeth Hopkins. She was a thin-lipped, energetic +young woman, who mended Miles's clothes +scrupulously, and, with equal conscientiousness, +boxed his ears whenever he tracked dirt on her +clean floors. Her sharp tongue, though, he feared +more than her hands, for Mistress Hopkins scolded +at everything and everybody; indeed, the only +members of the household whom her words never +troubled were Oceanus, who was so young he just +blinked his eyes when she talked, and Master Hopkins, +on whom people's fretting had as much effect +as it would have had upon the great rock at the +landing place.</p> + +<p>After all, Miles was rather glad to get out into the +air, away from the living room, where Mistress Hopkins +was already chiding Constance. The morning +was fair and warm, with no wind stirring, and the +harbor sparkled invitingly, so, shouldering the unwelcome +Damaris, he started happily to the shore.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span></p> + +<p>But his contentment speedily had an end, for, not +halfway to the landing, he was overtaken by Francis +Billington, Jack Cooke, and Joe Rogers, who at +once addressed him in disrespectful wise. "Ho, +Miles, that's brave work, tending a baby," jeered +Francis.</p> + +<p>"You meddle with your own matters," Miles +replied sulkily.</p> + +<p>"Come with us, Miles," Jack put in pacifically. +"We're going along shore to the first brook—"</p> + +<p>"We do not want a baby with us," Joe interrupted.</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i> might stay with me, Jack," Miles pleaded, +as the others turned away.</p> + +<p>Jack, a freckled little fellow with merry eyes, +dug the heel of his shoe into the dirt. "The other +lads will be having sport," he said half-heartedly.</p> + +<p>"Then go with them," cried Miles. "Only +you were very fain to play with me on shipboard."</p> + +<p>Even this last thrust failed; Jack ran after the +others down the hill, and Miles, feeling cross and +ill-treated, was left to himself.</p> + +<p>'Twould look too much as if he were following +his ungracious friends if he went on to the landing, +so he turned back to Elder Brewster's house. There +Priscilla Mullins, a girl orphaned by the winter's sickness, +who, because she was eighteen, was classed by +Miles as a woman, was sweeping the doorstone with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +a broom of birch twigs. She paused in the labor +teasingly to throw him a kiss, and tell him his busy +sister and the lads were cooking by the brookside.</p> + +<p>Sure enough, in the level space between the base +of the bluff on which the cottage stood and the +cove, Miles found Dolly, and Dolly's poppet Priscilla, +and Love, and Wrestling, and Solomon, and +Trug, who was not admitted to Mistress Hopkins's +house because his great paws dirtied her floor,—all +busied in making delectable pies of mud.</p> + +<p>But when Miles joined them, Love withdrew from +the mud-pie game, and wished to play at holding a +council, such as his father and all the men were +holding that morning in the Common House to +regulate the military affairs of the colony. Dolly +insisted that she should be allowed to come to the +council too, for all Love urged that women never +were invited thither, and the argument was growing +bitter, when an unwonted tumult in the village street +drew Miles's attention. A confused sort of calling +and shrill shouting it seemed, that made his heart +quicken between curiosity and alarm; so, snatching +up Damaris, he scaled the bluff, while the rest of +the children scrambled close behind him.</p> + +<p>On the doorstone Mistress Brewster and Priscilla +were gazing in silent wonder toward the street, and, +looking thither too, Miles saw a man stalk past to +the landing, very deliberately, as if he knew the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +place and held he had the right to come there. It +was no one of the settlers, though, but a great, +half-naked fellow with a coppery face—an Indian.</p> + +<p>Dolly and Wrestling clutched Mistress Brewster's +skirts, the little boy fairly crying, and Miles himself, +it must be owned, held Damaris fast and drew a step +nearer the doorstone. But next moment he noted +the Indian carried for weapons only a bow and two +arrows, with which he could not kill all the settlement, +and, moreover, at his heels tagged venturously +Giles Hopkins and several of the other boys, +and even Goodwife Billington, very clamorous, and +the Governor's serving maid.</p> + +<p>So Miles, not to be outdone by a petticoat, swaggered +into the roadway and joined himself to the +little group of curious folk, who, always ready to +flee if he should turn on them, followed close at +the savage's heels, down the steep hill, past Peter +Browne's cottage, even to the door of the Common +House.</p> + +<p>The noise in the street had already disturbed the +men at their conference, and they came flocking +forth at the door, the Governor, the Elder, and the +Captain, with a score of other stout fighters crowding +behind them. But the Indian, never a whit +abashed, strode boldly up to them, would even have +pressed into the house, had not their ranks barred +his passage. Nothing chilled, he halted, and,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +stretching forth his hands, spoke in a guttural +tone: "Welcome."</p> + +<p>"Do Indians talk English?" Miles whispered to +Giles, who stood beside him. "Hush, hush, Damaris! +The black man won't hurt you."</p> + +<p>But Damaris, quite unconvinced, clutched Miles +tightly round the neck and went on crying lustily, +till at last Goodwife Billington seized him by the +collar. "Thou good-for-naught lad!" she scolded. +"Wilt thou kill the poor babe? Take her back to +the house, thou runagate! Ay, ay, let her scream +herself ill, so thou mayest gape and gaze. I would +I had the up-bringing of thee!"</p> + +<p>Some people besides himself liked to gape +and gaze, Miles thought, but, without reply, he +gathered the wailing Damaris into his arms and +trudged slowly up the hill. There, by the Governor's +house, it chanced he met with Francis and +Jack and Joe, who, scenting something unusual in +the village, had hastened back through the fields. +"What is it has happened, Miles?" cried Joe.</p> + +<p>Miles, glancing over his shoulder, saw with unkind +satisfaction that the men had taken the savage +into the Common House, out of sight. "'Twas +naught," he said airily. "Just a great Indian came +into town."</p> + +<p>"Did you see him?" urged Francis. "Tell us +about it."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Humph! You've no wish to talk to me when +I'm tending a baby," sniffed Miles, and trudged on +to Master Hopkins's house, so elate at his triumph +that he forgot to be angry with Damaris for dragging +him away from the sport.</p> + +<p>At the noon meal, indeed, he heard all and more +than he could have learned, had he lingered about +the door of the Common House, for Ned Lister +was bubbling over with talk of the Indian. As +Master Hopkins had stayed at the Common House +and Dotey had none of his fellow-servant's faculty +for gathering news, he proved the only tale-monger +of the household; so the whole family harked to him +respectfully, and even Mistress Hopkins forgot her +usual sarcasms on his galloping tongue.</p> + +<p>"This is not a savage from these parts," Ned explained; +"he comes from the eastward, from Monhegan, +whither the ships out of England go to fish. +He has been on shipboard there and so has got a +smattering of the English tongue. One Captain +Dermer brought him to Cape Cod, and he has been +in these parts now some eight months. And he +told us a deal of the nations hereabout. This open +place where we have settled is called Patuxet. It +was a village of the savages once, but three or four +years back came a great plague, and all the people +died, so now we are undisputed masters of the soil. +Next unto us dwell the Massasoits, a tribe of some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> +sixty fighting men; and to the southeast, those +savages whom our men gave a brush to on their +explorations in December, are the Nausets, near a +hundred strong."</p> + +<p>Ned paused to secure himself another slice of +cold mallard; then started on a new train: "You +should 'a' seen the Indian fellow eat. He asked +for beer, but we gave him strong water, and biscuit +and butter and cheese and pudding, and a piece of +mallard thereto, and he liked all very well, and ate +right heartily."</p> + +<p>"He is not the only idler who looks for a full +meal," said Mistress Hopkins scathingly. "Where +have they put the vile creature now?"</p> + +<p>"Vile creature, mistress?" Ned repeated. "Sure, +he says that in his own country he is a great lord of +land, a Sagamore—"</p> + +<p>"I would he were back in his own country," +Mistress Hopkins answered sharply. "The murderous +wretch! I shall not draw a breath in peace +till he be hence. Here, Ned, 'tis little enough work +you'll do if you go forth, do you stay this afternoon +in the house to protect us."</p> + +<p>There was an instant of disappointed silence on +Lister's part, then, "'Tis you she means, Ned +Dotey," he cried, and, without staying to take his +cap, bolted out at the door.</p> + +<p>Nor was this the only desertion which Mistress<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> +Hopkins suffered; for, at their first opportunity, +Dotey and Giles also slipped away, and Miles +stayed behind only because he was so little that the +mistress shook him when he attempted to follow. +But speedily he had a bright thought, and asked +Mistress Hopkins if perhaps, since she was afraid +of the Indian, she would not like him to fetch Trug +to the house to guard them.</p> + +<p>Thus Miles was allowed, at last, to bring his dog +home, and so grateful was he, that he remained +patiently tending Damaris all the long afternoon. +He found a certain enjoyment in his position, however; +he was sole man in the cottage, and he wondered, +should other Indians follow this first one, if +Mistress Hopkins wouldn't let him take one of the +muskets and fight for her. When it came dark at +last, he knowingly inspected the fastenings of the +door, and told Constance not to be afraid; he and +Trug could defend them.</p> + +<p>Poor Constance needed more comfort than that, +for she was in a sorry fright. Her hands shook as +she laid the table, and, when a step sounded crisply +in the dooryard, she gave a nervous cry and dropped +the pile of trenchers. It was only Ned Lister, +however, who stamped in, bareheaded and whistling +cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"You have come back, then, since 'tis suppertime?" +Mistress Hopkins greeted him sarcastically.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nay, I'm not hungry," Ned answered, as he +sauntered over to the fire where Miles sat with +Damaris, "'tis that the master sent me ahead to +bid you make ready the guest chamber and the bed +of state. Our Indian lord there, the Sagamore +Samoset, is to lodge here to-night."</p> + +<p>For a moment Mistress Hopkins looked at the +speaker in dumb amazement. "If Master Hopkins +does not punish you roundly for such a lie, +Edward Lister," she said at last, deliberately, "it +will not be for want of my urging him."</p> + +<p>"It's the truth, though," Ned answered indifferently.</p> + +<p>"O me!" Constance cried, with a sudden nervous +wail, "I know we'll all be slain ere daybreak. +O dear!" She turned to run into the bedroom, +when Lister caught her by the arm. "Don't cry, +Constance," he urged; "there's no need to fear. +Captain Standish and some of the others are coming +hither to spend the night and keep watch. +You'll be safe enough."</p> + +<p>But the girl, breaking from him, vanished into +the chamber, whither Mistress Hopkins, snatching +up Damaris, followed her; so, for some moments, +Miles was free to ask questions and Ned to answer, +as it liked them best. But, so soon as Master +Hopkins's deliberate step sounded on the doorstone, +Mistress Hopkins came forth and, as he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +entered the living room, confronted him: "Is that +savage to be lodged here to-night, Stephen? Among +us, where my children are?"</p> + +<p>"He must go somewhere, Elizabeth," the master +of the house replied unruffled. "He is set to stay +among us for the night, and the tide is out so we +may not convey him on shipboard. We can lodge +him in the little closet next our chamber."</p> + +<p>"He shall not come into the house!" said Mistress +Hopkins, with her thin lips set.</p> + +<p>"Edward Lister, do you spread out the bed +within the closet," Master Hopkins went on unheedingly.</p> + +<p>With a wink at Miles, Ned crossed the room in +unusual haste, and Miles, taking a candle, followed +after into the closet, a tiny room with one black +window, where stood an old chest and a hogshead +and a rolled-up mattress, which Ned began leisurely +to spread out. "What think you, Miles?" he +whispered, as the boy closed the door behind him. +"It's good there is one person in the house whom +the dame cannot rattle off as she list, eh?"</p> + +<p>Miles nodded vaguely, his attention all fixed on +the least details of the commonplace room which +now had a fearful interest from the guest it was to +shelter. The thought of the savage stranger filled +the place with such awesome fancies that he could +not help going out from it very hastily ahead of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> +Lister, who grumbled a little that Miles was so +speedy to be off with the candle.</p> + +<p>Once in the bright living room, however, he became +very brave indeed, and wondered to Giles +Hopkins when the Sagamore Samoset would come. +His mood grew the bolder when the elder lad +showed him a dirk knife he had placed under his +doublet. "For there's no being sure with these +treacherous savages," Giles said seriously.</p> + +<p>But when the Sagamore came at last, the boys +found that the Hopkins household would be well +guarded, for with him were not only Master Hopkins +and Dotey, but big John Alden and Captain +Standish. The very sight of the latter reassured +Miles, so down he sat on the floor by the hearth, +with his arm round Trug, who, as soon as he spied +the Indian, bristled the hair on his back and uttered +a throaty growl.</p> + +<p>Mistress Hopkins and Constance and the two +babies kept within the south chamber; but the +men by themselves were enough to fill the living +room. There were but two stools, besides the form +on the hearth and a chest against the wall, so long-legged +Giles must curl himself up on the floor by +Miles, while Ned Lister set himself upon the table. +They bade the Indian be seated on the form by the +fire, right over against Miles, who, be sure, stared +at him with eyes wide open.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Sagamore Samoset, he saw, was a tall, straight +man, of complexion like an English gypsy, smooth-faced, +with coarse black hair that fell to his shoulders +behind, but was cut before. Since his coming into +the settlement, his English hosts had put upon him +a horseman's coat, which he wore with much pride +and dignity; indeed, all his gestures and carriage +were not only decent, but of a certain stateliness. +"Why, he is somewhat like other men," Miles +whispered softly to Giles, but Trug grumbled in +his throat.</p> + +<p>Only one candle was burning in the room, but +the firelight cast a flickering brightness on the faces +of the men. Captain Standish and Lister and the +Indian had lighted pipes of tobacco, and the air +was so heavy with the smell of the smoke that +Miles half drowsed, but through his drooping eyelids +he watched his English comrades, and watched +the Indian. Captain Standish was sitting adventurously +right on the form beside the Sagamore, and +now and again they spoke together. Miles noted +that in the Indian's speech came strange words, +which the Captain seemed to try to understand, and +once or twice the Captain even sought to make use +of them himself.</p> + +<p>Miles wondered at this, and then his only wonderment +was as to whether he had been asleep. +The logs on the hearth had broken into red embers;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> +the men had risen up; and, rubbing the heaviness +from his eyes, Miles saw Master Hopkins and the +Captain usher their Indian guest into the little closet +room.</p> + +<p>Straightway a certain tension in the company +seemed to slacken; Giles rose stiffly from the floor, +and Trug put down his head upon his paws, though +he still kept one bright, half-opened eye fixed on the +door through which the Indian had gone. With a +great creaking of the trestles, Ned Lister dismounted +from the table. "If he come to kill us," +he said in a low tone to Alden, "do you run in and +call me so I can have a share in the scuffle." Then, +stretching himself mightily, he disappeared into the +north bedroom, where the serving men and the boys +of the household slept.</p> + +<p>"Since you have two others to keep watch with +you, Master Hopkins," spoke the Captain, as he +took down his hat from the wall, "I'll go walk a +turn about the hill. I'll be back ere the half-hour +is up."</p> + +<p>He had put his hand to the latch, when Miles, on +the impulse, sprang to his feet and ran to him. +"May I come too, sir?" he whispered.</p> + +<p>"You, Miles? Why, you were better in bed. +Nay, come if you like."</p> + +<p>Out of doors the air was crispy and silent, and +pleasant smelling after the smoky atmosphere of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> +crowded room. Overhead the stars were dense and +bright, but below, the lonely little settlement lay in +darkness, with never a spark of a candle showing. +"How late is it, Captain Standish?" Miles asked, +in a hushed voice.</p> + +<p>"I should say it was near on to midnight," the +other replied, stepping along so briskly that Miles's +breath for talking was lost in the effort to keep pace +with him.</p> + +<p>Up and up they toiled; past Goodman Billington's +cottage; past the black cabin where Alden +and the Captain lived; and then by the well-trodden +path up the sheer hillside, till the planking of the +broad platform sounded hollow beneath their feet, +and they stood among the guns. The spark in the +Captain's pipe gleamed red in the darkness, but +Miles could not see the Captain's features; he perceived +only that he turned his face from quarter to +quarter, and remained longest gazing into the black +west, where the ridge of hills ran jagged against the +starry sky.</p> + +<p>He watched the Captain's movements, but he did +not venture to speak till Standish himself broke +out: "Well, there'll come no bands to frighten us +this night, I take it. We can march home, Miles. +We've a fair starlight to make the march under," he +added, and, as they stepped from the platform to the +yielding turf, lingered an instant to gaze skyward.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Which is it that is the North Star, sir?" Miles +hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Why, that one yonder, lad. You know it +well."</p> + +<p>"I knew 'twas the North Star in England. I +knew not if 'twere the same here. It is such a long +ways from home."</p> + +<p>"It's the same sky, Miles, and the same Heaven, +I take it, that we had over us in England."</p> + +<p>Miles threw back his head and once more stared +up into the sky, that was so vast it made him shrink +and feel smaller even than before. He sighed a +little, he scarcely knew why, and put his hand on +the Captain's sleeve. Standish took Miles's hand +in his, and so kept hold on him as they came +down from the hill, and in that pressure was something +so comforting that Miles was sorry when they +reached the door of Master Hopkins's house.</p> + +<p>Within was heavy air, and a dull fire, and sleepy +faces; Giles had gone to lie down on his bed, and +it did not need the Captain's bidding to send Miles +blinking after. Once, in the darkness, he was +wakened by hearing Lister protest inarticulately +that he would rather have his throat cut in his +sleep ten times over than rise and watch; and once +Miles guessed hazily that some one was shaking +him, and he tried to say he was getting up, and in +the midst dropped back on his pillow.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span></p> + +<p>At the last the dazzle of warm sunlight on his +face, and the rattle, rattle of trenchers, brought him +staggering and blinking to his feet. Oh, yes, he +remembered; the Sagamore Samoset had been there +last night; but he was not afraid of him, especially +since 'twas daylight; indeed, he wanted to see him +again, so out he rushed into the living room.</p> + +<p>"Well, sleepyhead!" Constance laughed at him, +and Mistress Hopkins was beginning to scold him +because he had not awakened, for all her efforts, till +mid-morning, when Ned Lister sauntered in. "His +Lordship the Indian is safe departed, Constance," he +said consolingly, as he made a slow business of +getting an axe from the chimney corner. "They +gave him a knife and a bracelet and a ring, and he +is gone away content."</p> + +<p>"A good riddance, too!" snapped Mistress +Hopkins. "And now do you, Edward Lister, +fetch two buckets of water and wash out the place +where the creature lodged. To bring such heathen +under a Christian roof! I hope I never set eyes +on another of the coppery wretches again."</p> + +<p>Ned shrugged his shoulders and said nothing till +his mistress was quite done; then he added meekly: +"I misremembered; he said he was coming back +again in a night or two, and next time he is going +to bring with him a goodly number from the tribe +of the Massasoits."</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER X<br /> + +<small>THE LORDS OF THE SOIL</small></h2> + + +<div class='drop-cap'>SAMOSET proved as good as his word. The +very next morning, for all it was Sunday, +back he came, and with him five other tall +Indians, who were even more wonderful fellows than +he, for they were clad in skins of deer or of wildcat, +and had dressed their hair with feathers, and +painted their faces in black streaks. To divert +their English hosts, they sang and danced, which +Master Hopkins called a violation of the sanctity of +the day, but Miles privately thought most edifying.</div> + +<p>He was even better pleased when that night, at +the departure of his comrades, Samoset was ill or +feigned to be, so, spite of Mistress Hopkins, he +must be sheltered in her husband's house. Thus +for three days Miles dwelt under the same roof +with a live Indian, and ate at the same board, till +he came to have not the least tremor at sight of a +copper-colored face. Indeed, he neglected every +task he was set, to dog the Indian guest about the +street and make shy efforts at talk with him, and +he was heartily grieved when at last, on Wednesday, +Samoset went away into the forest.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No doubt he'll come again, the mistress always +makes him so welcome," Ned Lister consoled +Miles, "and each time he goes, for his further +encouragement, they give him a present. This +morning they gave him a hat and shoes and stockings, +and a shirt and a loin cloth. I take it, 'tis +because I am what Master Hopkins calls a son of +Belial that it makes me to laugh, when I think of +Sagamore Samoset in an English headpiece with a +flapping brim."</p> + +<p>"I'm mighty sorry he went," sighed Miles, uncomforted. +"I was learning the Indian words, +so I could talk to him presently, like Captain Standish. +'Cossaquot,' that means <i>bow</i>; and 'et chossucke' +is <i>a knife</i>; and 'petuckquanocke' is <i>bread</i>; +and—"</p> + +<p>Ned yawned suggestively, and fell to work again. +He and Miles that afternoon were busied in the +spaded garden patch at the north end of the dooryard, +where they were pressing the seeds into the +soft earth. The sun was hot, and, as Miles worked, +he smeared his warm face with his fingers, till Ned +assured him he was all streaked brown, like an +Indian.</p> + +<p>But though it was hot and dirty labor, it was far +manlier than to be ever dandling a baby; so Miles +toiled on earnestly, spite of Ned's indolent example, +and did not pause even to stretch his cramped legs<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> +or straighten his aching back till mid-afternoon. +Then he started up at a noise of people hurrying +through the street, the sound of a quick footstep, +the rattle of the house-door.</p> + +<p>"'Tis Master Hopkins has taken his musket and +gone forth," spoke Ned, who was lounging farther +down the garden. "Somewhat's afoot." Away he +went to look into the matter, and Miles ran stiffly +after.</p> + +<p>Out in the street the men and boys, and even +one or two girls, were hastening toward the bluff +above the spring. As they went, a confused talking +spread among them, from which Miles learned +that yonder, on the great wooded hill across the +brook, Indians had been seen,—Indians who +brandished their bows and whetted their arrows in +defiance. Captain Standish and Master Hopkins +and two men from the <i>Mayflower</i> had gone down to +cross the brook and parley with them. Look, yonder +they went now!</p> + +<p>From where the company had halted, high up +beyond Goodman Cooke's cottage, Miles could see +the bright river and the hill opposite, thick with +unleaved woods. Up its base wound slowly the +little band of Englishmen, now half-screened, now +wholly visible; but Miles looked from them, higher +up the slope, where the bare branches were agitated, +as if something moved among them. "'Tis the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> +savages!" said one; but, strain his eyes as he +would, Miles saw through the bushes only the sad-colored +English doublets.</p> + +<p>Yet, with an anxiety he scarcely comprehended, +the men lingered on the bluff, watching and discussing +in grave tones, till the Captain and his followers +came toilsomely up the path from the spring. +They had seen naught; the savages had not suffered +them draw nigh them, Captain Standish explained, +so briefly that he seemed curt, while his +puckered brows still were bent on the slope whence +the Indians had sent their defiance.</p> + +<p>Slowly the little group of curious and troubled +people scattered, some of the weightier ones to +speak with the Governor and the Captain, others to +simpler tasks. Miles went back to his garden, but +the sunlight had now left that corner of the yard. +The great hill, where stood the guns, looked black +against the sky, and there seemed in all out-of-doors +a menace that made him glad at dusk to get +within the house. Throughout supper the men +kept from speaking of the savages with an elaborateness +that made their silence the more suspicious, +and the unspoken anxiety wrought on Miles till at +bedtime he smuggled Trug into the chamber and +made the dog lie near him.</p> + +<p>Next morning, in the clear sunlight, Miles's +courage revived mightily, but his elders still looked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> +sober. None the less, whether Indians threatened +or no, the work of the colony must be done: all +the morning men and boys trudged about their +tasks, though none went far afield; and after the +noon meal the men gathered once more at the +Common House, to consider the public business +which the first coming of Samoset had broken off.</p> + +<p>Oceanus was ailing that afternoon and needed his +mother, so Miles had to mind Damaris for a dreary +hour. As he sat with her upon the doorstone, he +spied a noiseless little group of some five Indians +passing down the street, and, alert at once, he +begged leave to run see what might happen; but +Mistress Hopkins, all a-tremble herself, forbade +him venture out while those bloodthirsty wretches +were abroad, and even made him come in and shut +the door fast.</p> + +<p>But speedily there sounded a rattling knock to +which the mistress must open, and in came the +men of the household, so hurriedly that straightway +the living room was in confusion. For the +great Sagamore Massasoit, with his brother Quadequina +and sixty warriors, was at hand, just across +the brook. One of the Indians, Squanto, who +could speak English, had gone back to bid him +enter the settlement, and the men of the colony +must get under arms to receive him; perhaps even +to defend themselves, Master Hopkins let a word fall.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span></p> + +<p>There followed a great throwing-on of buff-jackets +and buckling of sword-belts, while Giles, +newly appointed drummer to the colony, rattled +over the pots and kettles in a meaningless search +for his drumsticks, which some one had surely +moved from the place where he left them. Oceanus +wailed, Damaris, indignant at being neglected, +screamed aloud, Trug barked, and Mistress Hopkins +scolded, but somehow, in the midst of the +hurly-burly, the three men equipped themselves +and tramped away; and right at their heels went +Giles, with the drumsticks which Constance had +found.</p> + +<p>But the door closed behind them and shut +Miles, a soldier in name only, in with the women +and children for another tedious hour. Damaris +found little rest in his arms those minutes, while he +ran from the western window, whence he could see +a bit of the street and the path to the spring, to the +eastern window, whence, far down the street, he beheld +the men gathered in martial line, all in armor, +which glimmered bravely in the afternoon sun.</p> + +<p>He was still gazing down the street when Constance, +who had ventured to the other window, +called to him in a terrified voice: "Miles! Oh, +Miles! Come hither. 'Tis Indians indeed. Hundreds +of them!"</p> + +<p>With no wish to see further, the girl drew away<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +from the western window, and Miles thrust eagerly +into her place. Yes, there were Indians indeed, +swarms of them, it seemed at first sight, so he +flinched back a little from the casement. For they +were filing past the house, and that brought them +so near that Miles could see even the grotesque +figures in which their faces were painted. But soon +he perceived English musketeers marshalling them, +and he saw, too, that the savages were unarmed. +Their mission must be peaceful, he judged; so, eager +and unafraid, he stared at them, and was sorry when +the last one disappeared down the street.</p> + +<p>Just then, as he turned from the window, sounded +the tap, tap of a drum. "It is the Governor and +the rest of the men with drum and trumpet marching +up the street," spoke Constance from the eastern +casement. "They have led the savages into the +unfinished cottage by the Common House, and now +they are going in to them."</p> + +<p>Miles, at her side, squirmed with impatience. +"There's Jack yonder beneath the cottage window," +he exclaimed, "and Francis and Joe. And there's +such a deal to see. And I'm sure they are all +good, harmless Indians." He gave a glance toward +the bedroom, where he could hear Mistress Hopkins +lulling Oceanus, then whispered Constance: +"Won't you mind Damaris? I'll tell you all about +it when I come back."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I see not why you wish to go forth at such a +time, but I'll do 't for you. Run quick, ere stepmother +stop you," answered kind-hearted Constance; +and away sped Miles.</p> + +<p>Still, he was too late to share in the main excitement, +for when he came into the yard of the unfinished +house, he found the door fast shut and all +the great folk, white or copper-colored, gone within. +Only two musketeers remained outside to keep +watch, and Edward Dotey, who was one of them, +proved so unsympathetic as to cuff Francis Billington +when he tried to get a peep in at the window. +Much discouraged, for where saucy Francis failed +to go there was no hope for the others, the small +boys of the colony gathered in a patient little group +in the dooryard to talk of these great happenings.</p> + +<p>"Master Winslow has gone out amongst the +Indians," said Jack, "and they're holding him as +hostage for their old King. 'Twas right valiant of +him—"</p> + +<p>"Pooh! The Captain would 'a' gone just as +quick," Miles retorted jealously. "There's naught +to be afraid of, anyway. I would I were Giles +Hopkins, and stood there in the house with the +savages."</p> + +<p>"My father is in there too," spoke little Love +Brewster, who had attached himself to Miles, "but +he is so good I do not think even an Indian would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> +hurt him. But there were very many of them, and +if my mother had come close to see, I am sure she +would have been afraid. Perhaps I were best go +home and tell her there's no need to fear. You +come with me, pray you, Miles."</p> + +<p>Young Rigdale had no wish to take his eyes +from the door of the house, but plainly the little +boy was fearful enough to want his company up the +street, so he went with him, and at the Elder's +cottage stayed a moment to reassure the women +grandly.</p> + +<p>Dolly had no interest in Indians, since she found +in the case of Samoset that they did not carry about +with them a store of pretty baskets, such as the one +her father had brought her; but Priscilla Mullins +was eager to know everything, and questioned Miles +and listened to him most flatteringly, till he offered: +"If you wish to go forth and view the Indians, +Priscilla, I'll go and take care of you."</p> + +<p>Whereat young Mistress Mullins laughed, and, +slipping her hand under his chin, kissed him for his +courtesy, "like a baby."</p> + +<p>Red and indignant, Miles flung out of the house; +then forgot the insult, as he saw Giles, with a platter +in his hand, hurrying up the street from Governor +Carver's cottage. "What are you doing there?" +he called, running to intercept the elder lad.</p> + +<p>"Fresh meat," panted Giles. "The Governor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +wished it for the King. I had this bit of a goose +from Mistress Carver, and now I've remembered a +mallard I saw stepmother set to boil."</p> + +<p>It took him very few minutes to hurry into his +father's house, and out again with a second larger +platter balanced in one hand, but, short as the space +was, Miles had laid a plan. Stepping up to Giles, +he took from him Mistress Carver's dish of meat. +"Let me aid you," he proffered innocently.</p> + +<p>"So that's what you're scheming," laughed Giles; +but he let Miles, under that pretext, come at his +side down the street, past the little group of envious +boys, up the doorstone of the unfinished cottage, +and so into the very council chamber.</p> + +<p>The room was close and hazy with smoke from +the pipes of tobacco that the King and the chief of +the English puffed at, but, spite of the dimness, +Miles speedily made out the shapes of the Indians. +Black, red, yellow, and white, their faces were +partly or wholly smeared with paint, and, through +the wavering smoke-wreaths, their look was so grim +that for an instant he hesitated on the threshold.</p> + +<p>But Giles went on, so he followed, across the +room, between what seemed endless rows of Indians +in hairy skins who stood or squatted on the floor, +up to the table, where sat a tall, stalwart savage. +Imitating Giles, Miles set down his dish of meat +before him, and, with an agitated bow, drew back to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> +the wall, where he wedged himself in between Lister +and young Hopkins. "That's the King, yonder +at table," the latter whispered him softly.</p> + +<p>He did not look at all as Miles thought a king +should look, that savage at the table. He wore a +scant covering of skins,—a dress like that of his +followers, save that the King had also about his +neck a great chain of white bone beads. His face +was painted a dark red; and face and head alike +were oiled so he looked greasy; he fed untidily +with his fingers, and sometimes, when he would +give a morsel to one of his followers, rent the meat +with his hands.</p> + +<p>But, for all he seemed so busy with feeding, his +quick eyes were darting about the smoky room,—now +resting on the Governor, who sat at table near +him; now on the English musketeers who lined +the walls,—and, to Miles's thinking, the King +looked on them timorously; now on his own followers, +who crowded silently about him. One of +the Indians, squatting on the floor, held in his +hands the English trumpet, on which he tried to +blow, and, for a moment, the King paused to hark +with a child's wonder to his efforts, then once more +began tearing Mistress Hopkins's mallard.</p> + +<p>When nothing but bones was left of the bird, +Giles slipped the platters from the table, and now +the serious work of the conference seemed to begin.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +Up from the floor behind the table, where they had +sat, rose two savages, who should interpret between +Massasoit and the Governor; the one was a stranger, +probably that Squanto whom Master Hopkins +had mentioned; the other, Miles's old acquaintance, +Samoset. A transformed Samoset, however, with +an English felt hat low on his brows and an English +shirt worn over his meagre native garments +after the manner of a carter's frock. Ned Lister, +standing rigid and soldierly against the wall, took +Miles a sudden dig in the ribs, and winked at +him with a "Didn't I tell you as much" expression.</p> + +<p>Miles, on his good behavior, neither looked at +him nor smiled, but fixed his gaze on the men +about the table. The sun had now shifted down +the sky, so a great bar of light thrust in at the +western window. The yellow brightness flecked +across Elder Brewster's grizzled head, made Governor +Carver's stiff ruff even more dazzlingly white, +and gleamed back again from Captain Standish's +steel corselet. It rested, too, on the papers which +Master William Bradford had laid on the table +before him, but Master Bradford's grave face, as he +bent forward to write what the Governor bade, was +in shadow. The features of Massasoit, too, were +dark to see, but here and there, as the sunlight, +bursting through the smoke, wavered across the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +room, the painted face or coppery bare shoulders of +one of his followers stood out.</p> + +<p>The two interpreters jerked out the gutturals of +their outlandish tongue, to which the King grunted +assent, or now and again the Governor spoke a +measured word. But outside the window a bird +was singing in a high, purling strain; and Miles +wondered if it were a fat, red-breasted bird, and +thought more on its song and on the motes that +swam in the sunlight, than on what the Governor +was saying.</p> + +<p>After all, he was glad when the conference broke +up. He was tired of standing stiffly, and the air of +the room was heavy; and the Indians, when they +neither ate nor played with trumpets, but just sat +stolid, were a bit stupid. He scuffed softly but +impatiently at the rear of the train, as the company +filed forth; the Governor and the King, side by +side, went first, and then, all in some semblance of +order, the Indian warriors and the English leaders +and soldiery.</p> + +<p>Outside, a guard of honor formed about the +Governor and his guest, and gave them fitting +escort to the brook; but Miles remained behind +and roused the envy of his mates, with an account +of what he had seen, till, in fickle fashion, they +forsook him at the coming of a second guest, +Quadequina, the brother of Massasoit, who, in his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> +turn, would have a taste of English hospitality. +He could not, however, compare in dignity and +importance with Massasoit; he was just a tall, +comely young savage, who liked English biscuit +and strong waters, but liked the English muskets +so little that his hosts good-naturedly laid them +aside. Massasoit was not cowardly like that, Miles +assured his comrades; Massasoit was every inch a +king, and it was a mighty honor to have been in +the same room with him.</p> + +<p>Quadequina had been but a short time gone, and +the long shadows were filling the river valley with +a grayness, when back across the brook, quite unruffled +by his long detention, came Master Edward +Winslow. His fellow-colonists might be glad to +see him, and he to return unscathed to them, but +he carried it laughingly. He was all sound, save +that he was uncommon hungry,—Miles, following +admiringly, caught a scrap of his speech to Captain +Standish,—the Indians had tried to buy the armor +off his back and the sword from his side, and he +knew not but he might have sold them for a mess +of pottage, only he saw no such savory viand among +the savages, nor anything, indeed, but groundnuts.</p> + +<p>Now that Master Winslow was returned, the +colonists released the Indians whom they had held +as hostages for him, and sent them away. Save +only Samoset and Squanto, no Indians were suffered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> +to remain in the settlement, but the rumor went +that King Massasoit and all his people had encamped +for the night on the wooded hill across the +brook, so a strict watch was set.</p> + +<p>"Do you think there will be fighting yet?" +Miles questioned Giles, as they walked home to +supper. "Quadequina was afeard of our muskets. +I take it, we could beat those Indians."</p> + +<p>"To be sure, there'll be no fighting," answered +Giles, as he tucked his drum under one arm in a +professional way. "We've struck a truce with the +savages."</p> + +<p>Later, at supper, Miles heard it all explained. +This was a dolorous meal, for the meat had been +devoured by his Majesty, Massasoit, and Mistress +Hopkins was ill-tempered and rated Miles for running +away that afternoon, and, to add to her discomfort, +Samoset came blandly to sup with his old +entertainers. "This has been an ill day such as I +wish never to see the like of again," fretted the +poor woman.</p> + +<p>"It is a happy day for our colony," said Master +Hopkins gravely. "Do you not realize, Elizabeth, +that we have this afternoon made a peace with our +heathen neighbors that, by the will of Heaven, +shall prove lasting? King Massasoit has covenanted +that none of his people shall do us harm as we go +abroad; and, if he be attacked, we shall aid in his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +defense, or if other tribe of savages assail us, he +shall do us the like service. Yea, the hand of +Providence has been with us this day. Yesternight +it was all menace; but to-night we can hope for +peace."</p> + +<p>Miles, in his place at table, looked at Samoset, +very solemn in his funny shirt and hat, and, blinking +sleepily at the candle, took little concern for +the earnestness of Master Hopkins's words. He +scarcely realized that this was almost the second +founding day of New Plymouth; but he did know +that he had stood within arm's reach of King +Massasoit, an exploit of which no other boy in the +colony could boast; and, when he went to bed, he +dreamed all night of red and blue and green +Indians.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XI<br /> + +<small>WHEN THE GOOD SHIP SAILED</small></h2> + + +<div class='drop-cap'>EVEN Mistress Hopkins must at last somewhat +overcome her fear of the savages, else +her life would have been miserable beyond +endurance. For Massasoit having plainly made +the treaty in good faith, his people were ready at +all times to visit their English allies and eat of their +food. Coppery faces grew so common a sight in +the single street of New Plymouth that each boy +in the colony had his own little tale of a friendly +Indian encounter, and Miles Rigdale was no longer +alone in his experiences.</div> + +<p>Still further to rob Miles of his prestige among +his fellows, his own particular Indian, the Sagamore +Samoset, with his hat and his shirt, which he used +in wet weather to remove carefully, lest they be +damaged, took himself off to his own land to the +eastward; and Miles found no one to fill his place.</p> + +<p>To be sure, Plymouth had now a resident pensioner +in the Indian Squanto, but he lived with +Master Bradford, and so was accessible to other +boys as well as to Miles. "I see not why he is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> +let dwell among us," the latter said jealously, in the +early days of Squanto's stay.</p> + +<p>"Because, if he were any but a heathen, one +might say this land where we have planted belongs +to him," Master Hopkins made a brief explanation, +which to Miles was no explanation at all.</p> + +<p>But later, of a morning when Master Hopkins's +force of laborers was busied in building a fence +round the garden patch, Giles, who had listened to +the talk of his elders, took the trouble to set forth +the substance of it to Miles. "You'll understand, +this Squanto truly belongs at Plymouth. Back in +the time when an Indian village, Patuxet, stood +where we have settled, he dwelt here. But there +came an Englishman named Hunt—"</p> + +<p>"Who was rather more of a knave than even a +trader should be," parenthesized Ned Lister, who, +seated comfortably on the ground near by, was +hammering the palings together.</p> + +<p>"He was a scoundrel," said Giles, warmly. "He +toled Squanto and nineteen others from Patuxet, and +some from among the Nausets, on board his ship, +pretending he would truck with them; and then he +hoisted sail and steered away for Spain, where he +sold them all for twenty pound apiece. But somehow +this fellow Squanto made shift to reach England, +where a good merchant of London cared for him. +'Twas there he came by the knowledge of our tongue<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> +that he has. And at last they sent him back hither +to his own country; but meantime the plague had +been among them at Patuxet, and all were dead."</p> + +<p>"The Lord removed the heathen to make way +for a better growth," said Dotey, who had just come +thither with an armful of fresh palings.</p> + +<p>"Truly?" muttered Ned Lister. "Then I'm +thinking the Lord in His wisdom laid His hand +pretty heavily on the poor silly savages just for our +profit."</p> + +<p>There was little enough love already between +Lister and Dotey, so Giles headed off a possibly +bitter argument by continuing hastily: "So, as my +father says, Squanto is, in a way, the owner of the +land here, and as such has a right to shelter and food +amongst us."</p> + +<p>Miles listened to this story with a grave, stolid +face, such as the others kept, and made no word of +comment. But afterward he thought much of what +had been told him, and wondered if Squanto had +had a wife and copper-colored babies, and had come +home to find them dead. He felt sorry for the poor, +lone Indian, and watched him with new sympathy; +but to all appearances Squanto was more occupied +in consuming English biscuit and butter than in +grieving for his lost friends.</p> + +<p>Whether or no he had a claim upon the English, +the Indian speedily showed himself able to repay<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> +them for any kindness. He told the men how they +must wait yet some days before they planted their +corn, and how there would then be plenty of fish in +the river, which they must set with the seed; and +much more that was useful. But nothing of the +Indian's arts impressed Miles so much as his prowess +in eel-catching, for he would go often into the forest +and return, after a few hours, with fat, sweet eels, as +many as he could lift in one hand.</p> + +<p>Of an afternoon in April, nearly a fortnight after +the coming of Massasoit, Ned Lister and Giles Hopkins +went to the southward with Squanto on such +a fishing trip, and, as Miles was very eager to share +in it, they let him come too. Their course took +them over steep, wooded hills, where always they +had blue water close on the left hand, and, looking +back over their shoulders, could see the bay of +Plymouth, with its flanking headlands. A tender +leafage was upon the trees, and in the southern hollows, +where the birds sang, the air was warm; but +on each hilltop a chillier blast stung in the faces of +the fishermen and urged them to trudge more briskly.</p> + +<p>At length they came to a gully, where two hills +curved into each other, and descended it, half running, +to the bank of a small river that flowed seaward +through a level reach. Here was where the +eels dwelt, Squanto gave his companions to understand; +and then, without spear or any implement,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +he waded gently into the quiet water. The three +English-born, from the bank, watched him intently, +yet they scarcely realized how he did it, when he +suddenly made a swift dart forward, and rose with +a long, slimy thing writhing in his hands.</p> + +<p>"Do you just tread 'em out with your feet, +Squanto?" Ned queried after a time, as, keeping +pace with the savage, they trailed along the bank.</p> + +<p>When the Indian gave an "Um" that implied +assent, Ned presently suggested: "Say we venture +it, lads. It has a simple seeming. Tell us, Squanto, +can a white man take eels that way?"</p> + +<p>"White man try," advised Squanto, stolidly. He +had caught enough for a mess, so he probably +thought that the splashings of the English fellows +would do no harm now.</p> + +<p>Ned and Giles, stripping off shoes and stockings, +waded in; and Miles, not to be outdone, followed +after. The water felt stingingly cold against his bare +legs, and set his teeth chattering so he could not +talk. The very ooze of the river bed was clammy; +and then he suddenly found his tongue and gave a +frightened scream, as his toes touched something +that rolled beneath them.</p> + +<p>"Did you take one, Miles?" cried Giles Hopkins, +splashing to the spot.</p> + +<p>"I d-d-don't know," chattered Miles, from the +shore where he had sought refuge.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span></p> + +<p>Giles spattered to and fro a moment. "'Twas +naught but an old branch," he announced contemptuously.</p> + +<p>"It was an eel," retorted Miles, "but, to be sure, +he will not stand there the day long till you choose +to come seek him."</p> + +<p>With that he forced himself to put his purpling +feet into the water again, but, spite of this brave +showing, Ned and Giles would chaff him on his +flight, and even Squanto looked amused at the conduct +of the youngest of his allies.</p> + +<p>Yet, for all they were so ready to laugh at him, +Miles noted his English comrades did not take a +single eel, and that gave him a kind of comfort. +But even then there was little pleasure in wading +through the icy water, in the expectation of stepping +on a soft, squirming thing; so he was not sorry +when Ned gave the order to take up the homeward +march.</p> + +<p>The east wind, that had turned chillier as sunset +drew on, smote bleakly on the hilltops, and in the +hollows, where the shadows were creeping through +the undergrowth, the warmth had died out of the +air. The gathering darkness pressed ever closer +upon the fishermen; the sea on their right turned +gray and dim; the blue faded from the sky, and +the green of the distant headlands of the bay +changed to black. Just off the beach point they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> +could dimly make out a dark bulk, where a single +speck of light showed—the old ship <i>Mayflower</i>.</p> + +<p>"They say she'll be hoisting sail for home soon," +Giles spoke, as they trudged through the twilight, +with a surety that his comrades knew to what he +referred.</p> + +<p>"So soon as the wind swings round into the +west," answered Ned. "Then she'll up sail, and +it's 'Eastward, ho!'"</p> + +<p>Then presently, in the dusk, Ned began whistling +a sorry little tune, unlike those he was wont to sing, +very slow and monotonous, with a sudden rising to +a high note and as sudden a sinking again, like the +sharp indrawing of breath in a sob. "What song is +that, Ned?" Miles asked, because he would rather +hear Lister talk than whistle that pitiable strain.</p> + +<p>"'Tis the Hanging-tune, Miley; the one to which +they set the last confessions of men who are condemned +to die." He fell to whistling once more +and half humming the words:—</p> + +<div class='poem'>"'Fortune, my foe,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Why dost thou frown on me?'"</span><br /></div> + +<p>and Miles harked to the tune till it went crying +itself through his head.</p> + +<p>Next morning it still came back to him keenly,—the +walk in the twilight, the look of the distant ship, +the woful minor of the Hanging-tune. For the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> +wind was hauling round to westward, and of a sudden +Indians and gardening and house-building ceased +to be matters that men talked of in the street; instead +they spoke of the going of the ship that had +borne them from England.</p> + +<p>Already she had stayed longer on their shores +than any had expected, because of the sickness that +had been among her crew. But now, on shore and +on ship, the sickness was stayed; just half the settlers +lay buried on the bluff, and the crew of the +<i>Mayflower</i> mustered in diminished numbers, yet +enough survived and in recovered health to work +the ship back to England. With the first favoring +wind she would set forth upon her voyage; and +with that bit of sure information went another, that +Master Jones had offered to take home in her any +one of the settlers who might wish to go.</p> + +<p>"Right generous of him, is't not?" Ned Lister +spoke bitterly to Miles. "Who does he think is +going with him? The Elder and the Governor +and Master Bradford, all the chiefs, if they showed +their faces in England, they'd be clapped up in +prison. And the lesser men, or even our great +Master Hopkins here, they've ventured all their +substance in this plantation. If they go back, they +must starve or beg in London streets, and 'tis as +easy and pleasant to starve here. There's none in +the settlement I know of has the wish to go home,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> +save myself, and I cannot go, because I've sold my +time to Hopkins, the more fool I!"</p> + +<p>"Why did you ever come hither, if you hate it +so?" Miles questioned.</p> + +<p>"Because a penny fell wrong side up," Ned answered. +"I woke up in London one fine morning, +with no shirt to my back and but one penny in my +pocket. 'It's either 'list for the wars, or get me +into a new country and start afresh,' I said, so I +tossed up the penny,—heads Bohemia, tails America. +It fell tails; so I sold Stephen Hopkins my +three years' time in return for my passage over. +And a precious fool I was! Faith, I'd liefer dig +ditches in England than play even at governor here. +And so soon as my time's out!"</p> + +<p>Miles listened soberly, but with no sympathy; +he did not understand why a tall, grown fellow like +Ned should think on home with such longing. He +did not care himself; he had come to New Plymouth +to live, and he looked forward to the departure of +the <i>Mayflower</i> as a novel happening in the round of +everyday occurrences.</p> + +<p>Yet when it befell, it seemed quite a matter-of-fact +event. A clear breezy morning it was, and, as +the household sat at their early breakfast, Francis +Cooke came leisurely to tell Master Hopkins that +the wind was setting steady from the west, and +Master Jones had rowed ashore to bid his former<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +passengers good-by; so soon as the tide was at +flood, the ship would put forth.</p> + +<p>There was wood and water to fetch as every day; +and Miles did the tasks hastily. As he came down +the path by Cooke's house, he could feel the wind +stirring his hair, and yonder in the harbor the waves +were ruffling, and the dim old sails of the <i>Mayflower</i>, +unfurled, bellied in the gusts.</p> + +<p>When he had set the dripping bucket within the +living room, he ran down toward the bluff, to see +what more was to see, but, finding his playmates +lingering by the door of the Common House, he +joined them. Within the house, they told him, +Master Jones was drinking a friendly draught with +the colonists, and taking his leave. Presently, indeed, +the Master, a low, broad-shouldered figure, +in his wide breeches and loose jacket, came forth, +attended by most of the men of the colony, and +rolled off to the landing place.</p> + +<p>Some of the boys straggled respectfully behind +their elders, but Miles raced with those who ran +to be first at the landing. There, alongside the +rock, rode the ship's longboat, and Will Trevor and +several of the lesser men stood talking with the +sailors who sat in her. The youngsters, too, would +gladly have borne a part, but the Master, coming +right on their heels across the sand, broke up the +little group; he was speaking boisterously with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> +Governor, so his loud voice could be heard even +above the confusion of the embarkation.</p> + +<p>Indeed, it was all so noisy and hurried that nothing +of those last moments remained clear in Miles's +mind; he remembered only that men spoke of letters +and packets, and the Master wished them many +a "God be wi' you," and there was a bustling to and +fro and a deal of hand-shaking. Then the Master, +sitting in the stern seat, was cursing at his sailors; +the width of blue water between the longboat and +the landing rock was increasing; and for a moment +Miles watched mechanically the sway and swing of +the seamen's bodies, as, bending to their oars, they +rowed the boat away.</p> + +<p>When at length he turned slowly about, he was +aware that, halfway up the rugged slope of the +bluff, a little group of women, all that survived in +the colony, were standing, and the children with +them. He scrambled up to be with Dolly, why, +he could not say, only somehow he wanted to be +sure she was safe and near him then; and he noted +Mistress Carver, who sat upon a stone with her +hands clasped tensely in her lap, and Priscilla Mullins, +whose hair blew unheeded about her face, +while she gazed out to sea.</p> + +<p>He almost stumbled over Wrestling Brewster +and the little Samson boy, who had sat down on the +turf and unconcernedly were playing with some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> +bright pebbles; but he did not pause to speak to +Wrestling, just clambered a few feet higher up the +bluff, where Dolly, holding to Mistress Brewster's +gown, stood with her wistful face turned seaward. +"Look you closely, Dolly," he greeted her. "See, +they're hoisting sail on board the <i>Mayflower</i>."</p> + +<p>Dolly, pressing up to him, whispered for her +only reply: "Do you mind, Miles, how we came +in on the ship, and mammy and daddy with us? I +wish we'd all stayed in England."</p> + +<p>"Now hush, Dolly," Miles admonished in a +gruff tone, and scowled vexedly as the little sister, +hiding her face against his doublet, began to cry. +Then, half pitying, he bent to speak to her, when +a sudden gasp, as if the women about him all drew +in their breath, made him look to the harbor. +There he saw the <i>Mayflower</i>, with the western wind +swelling her dingy sails, had heaved up anchor, and +was heading out upon the ocean.</p> + +<p>The sun was bright and made the dirty sails +gleam like silver; the water was blue, and the wind +was brisk; and the ship stood seaward swiftly, very +swiftly. Miles thought on how she had set forth +from Southampton; and he knew that on board +men would be clattering across her deck, and hauling +at ropes, and the Master would be bellowing +orders.</p> + +<p>But on shore a great silence had fallen. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +most careless of the men had no word to say, while +of the graver sort some had bowed their heads, and +some, coming higher up the bluff, had drawn close +to their wives and children. For a moment there +was no sound save the lap of waves about the great +gray landing rock, and the swish of shingle as the +swell receded; then suddenly one of the women—it +was Mistress White, six weeks a widow, who +stood with her baby in her arms and her other little +child holding to her skirts—burst out sobbing.</p> + +<p>Miles gazed about him in wonder. Why, men +never cried; Captain Standish's face now was hard +as a stone; and he himself had not the least inclination +to shed a tear. But among the women round +him was a stifled weeping, so anguishing for being +half suppressed, that some pity mingled with his +contempt, and, with a feeling that he was ashamed +to listen, he slipped away from the bluff. He +thought he were best run up on the great hill to +watch the <i>Mayflower</i> depart; and he found that his +friend Jack and several other boys had had the same +thought.</p> + +<p>All together they raced up the street to see who +should gain the hilltop first, and by the time they +came thither, with laughing and struggling, had +clean forgot their elders, who, from the bluff below, +watched the receding ship through a dazzle of tears. +From the top of the hill the lads could see the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +white sail of the <i>Mayflower</i> in the offing, out beyond +Sagaquab, speeding ever farther into the horizon; +but Miles never saw it vanish, for Francis Billington +had discovered a nest of snakes at the other +side of the hill; so, in the midst of their watching, +the boys must run thither and look upon the wriggling +little creatures, then scrupulously stone them +all to death.</p> + +<p>When Miles clambered again to the hilltop, there +was never a distant glimmer of a sail upon the sea; +but he could not think of the ship's departure sadly, +with the day so fair and his time at his disposal. +He felt hungry, though, so he ran down to the +house a moment to eat his dinner; and, for all it +was long past the noon hour, he found no dinner +ready.</p> + +<p>Ned was out by the woodpile, nailing together +a hand-barrow, with a sudden fierce spurt of energy, +but he was in a sulky temper; and within the house +Constance went about with her eyes red. She gave +Miles a piece of bread in his hand, and bade him +run away and eat it; stepmother had shut herself +in her chamber, and father was with her, trying to +comfort her. "I see not why you all make such a +to-do because the old ship has sailed," Miles spoke, +with his mouth full.</p> + +<p>"Because we're left alone. Because no ship will +come ere the autumn. Maybe it will never come,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +Constance burst out, with sudden passionateness. +"And we are here, and home is there, and the ship +has gone. You'd understand, if you were older."</p> + +<p>No, Miles did not understand yet. What with +the excitement and the change, in spite of the sad +bearing of those about him, the meaning of it all +did not come home to him till next morning. He +had risen early with the others and run forth to +fetch wood for the morning fire. The sun was just +reddening the horizon line, but the rest of the world +looked faint and gray. A white mist, rolling off +the fields, was shrinking away inland from the sea +whence it had come. But out to sea he could distinguish +clearly the dusky beach point, and the +islands and— There he rubbed his eyes. No, +it was no trick of the mist. There was the old +anchoring ground, but it was empty; the clumsy, +old, dark hulk was gone.</p> + +<p>Miles walked on to the woodpile, trying hard +to whistle, but the only strain that came was a sorry +snatch in a minor key,—the Hanging-tune. The +chill of the dawning struck into his bones. Once +more he looked to the anchoring ground that was +vacant; then he sat down suddenly among the +damp logs. He did not cry,—he was too big and +old for that,—but he leaned his folded arms against +a log, and hid his face between them.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XII<br /> + +<small>THE SOWING OF THE FIELDS</small></h2> + + +<div class='drop-cap'>"TO be sure, though, I was not weeping," +Miles declared to Constance, who came +out from the house to see why he tarried +so long at the woodpile, "for I never even thought +on going back to England."</div> + +<p>He little guessed that, at one time, the leaders of +the colony had spoken seriously of returning Dolly +and himself to the home-country. But Master +Hopkins had urged that, in such case, the children +might be drawn back into the faith of the Church +of England, from which their father had sought to +snatch them; and Elder Brewster had added that +it was a weary journey for such little folk, and no +prospect at the end save of hard fare among grudging +kindred.</p> + +<p>John Rigdale left no near relatives; and his distant +cousins, to whom the children would have to go, +were poor tenant-farmers, just as he had been, who +would find it burdensome to feed two more mouths. +For Miles and Dolly, not only would childhood +prove hard and laborious, but there would be nothing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> +better to look forward to; as the boy grew to manhood, +he could hope only to toil for daily hire on +some farmer's land. "Unless he fling away his +soul's welfare by going as a mercenary in some iniquitous +foreign war," said Master Isaac Allerton; +whereat Captain Standish smiled a little behind his +beard, but made no answer.</p> + +<p>But here in New Plymouth, though Miles would +have plenty of work to do, he would have, as his +inheritance from his father, a claim to a share of +land and of whatever cattle or other property the +settlers should hereafter hold in common. By the +time he was a man, there would be enough for him +to have a small farm of his own, where he could live +in more comfort than he would have known in +England; and, till he was grown, Master Hopkins +was willing to feed and shelter him, in return for +what labor he could do.</p> + +<p>As for Dolly, her case was simple enough, for if +Miles stayed, she stayed; and Mistress Brewster +was quite determined that the little girl should stay +in no house but hers. So the <i>Mayflower</i> sailed +away, and Miles Rigdale, with his little household, +remained behind; and he never dreamed that people +had thought of continuing the colony without +his aid.</p> + +<p>The boy had some cause to rate his services +highly, for, in the weakened condition of the settlement,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +every atom of strength had to be used, and +tasks were set for him as seriously as for burly +Edward Dotey. The full working-force of New +Plymouth mustered but twenty-two men,—counting +in the venerable Elder, the Governor, and the +Doctor, who all labored with their hands as readily +as the rest,—and nine boys—some half-grown +fellows, like Giles and Bart Allerton, who, at a +pinch, could bear a musket and do almost a man's +work, and some small rascals, like Miles himself, +who, with the best intentions, did not always, for +lack of strength or of wisdom, accomplish what was +bidden them.</p> + +<p>But, old or young, laggard or brisk, every male +member of the colony was expected to turn out now +and bear a hand, for the mid-April season approached, +and the precious corn, that was to feed +the settlement, must be planted. To the elders, it +looked like a stretch of hard work, but Miles hailed +it joyously, as a dignified, manly labor.</p> + +<p>It began excitingly, with the coming of the alewives +up the river, just as Squanto had foretold; +and straightway some of the men set to taking them +with seines, while others with hoes scored up the +rough soil of the cleared fields to the north, that +once had been the planting land of the Indians of +Patuxet. Still others got out the corn, a precious +supply of seed which they had found buried in an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> +Indian basket under the sand of Cape Cod, and +had made bold to take against this sowing time.</p> + +<p>For the present, Miles's part was only to splash +about at the river brink, where he fancied he was +hauling at the seines, or to carry a bucket of water +to the workers in the field, or bring a stouter hoe +from the storehouse. Planting was no labor, just +sport, he went to assure Dolly, at the end of the +first twelve hours.</p> + +<p>He tried to see his little sister once each day, but +this time the work had been kept up so late that +it was past twilight before he could run across the +street to Elder Brewster's cottage. A lingering +warmth was in the evening air, so Dolly and tall +Priscilla Mullins, their faces dim in the candlelight +that shone from within the living room behind +them, were sitting on the doorstone. Some one +else stood leaning against the doorpost, some one +with a deep voice, who called Miles by name.</p> + +<p>"Is it you, John Alden?" the boy asked, and, +because Alden was the Captain's friend, would have +talked to him, had not Dolly, saying she had a great +secret to tell him, dragged him away, round the +corner of the cottage.</p> + +<p>"Now guess what 'tis, Miles," she bade, as they +halted in the ray of light that streamed from the +house-window beside them.</p> + +<p>"I cannot guess, Dolly. Be not so childish."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'd give you three guesses. 'Tis something +Love and I found in the woods, up beyond the +spring, on a southern hillside. 'Twas so far I was +near afraid, but I am glad I went. We were playing +in the dead leaves, and we found these. Look +on them."</p> + +<p>She drew her hand from her small bodice, with +three wilted pink flowers clenched tightly in it. +They were small flowers, of a star-shaped form and +a rare, deep pink color, but Miles scarcely heeded +color or size in his enjoyment of their sweet, spicy +smell. They were unlike any blossom he had ever +seen, so he was not ashamed to show his interest, +even if a flower was a girlish trifle. "You and +Love found them, Dolly? And no one else +knows?"</p> + +<p>"'Tis a secret," Dolly nodded. "We told only +Wrestling and Priscilla and Mistress Brewster. +Ay, and the Elder too, because Mistress Brewster +said perchance he might know what flower it was, +he is so wise. And John Alden, Priscilla told him. +And Love told Harry Samson and Milly Cooper—"</p> + +<p>"It's a mighty great secret when all the colony +knows it," Miles said sarcastically, and then, at +Dolly's hurt look, was sorry; so he added, "but I'm +glad to know't, Dolly, and I'll go seek for some +myself."</p> + +<p>"There are buds yonder on the hillside, but no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> +blossoms. Maybe, though, we could find some, +if we went and searched. Priscilla wishes to get +some too. Oh, Miles, could we not all three go +to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"I must work," Miles answered proudly. "I'm +not a child or a girl, so I cannot stop to play."</p> + +<p>Yet he was child enough to think he should like +to go get a handful of those rare, pretty flowers. +After he got them, he would not greatly care for +them, but there would be the zest of owning something +that every boy in the colony did not own; and +if he gave the flowers to Dolly or to Constance, it +would please them, since they were girls. So, before +dawn next morning, Miles tumbled out of bed, +and, taking in his hand the hunch of bread that +formed his breakfast, ran away up beyond the +spring. Perhaps before work-time he could find a +blossom or two, he thought; and so grubbed hopefully +among the damp, dead leaves of the hillslope.</p> + +<p>The mist that precedes the sunrise melted from +the air; a bird sang faintly in the distance; and +even amidst the undergrowth the light grew yellow +and cheerful; work-time was near, and Miles had +found only a poor half-dozen blossoms. He hated +to give over, but there was no help for it; so, getting +slowly to his feet, he was starting down the path +to the settlement, when a man crashed out through +the bushes on his left. It was John Alden, Miles<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> +saw at once, and he carried a great handful of the +pink flowers.</p> + +<p>That was palpably an unfair arrangement, Miles +held, so, as he fell into step at Alden's side, he +queried: "You did not come hither and strip our +place, did you?"</p> + +<p>"Whose place, lad?"</p> + +<p>"Why, mine and Dolly's and Priscilla's and—"</p> + +<p>"Do you think I should dare plunder the holding +of so many proprietors? I have been to northward."</p> + +<p>Miles was silenced a moment, then insinuated, +"John Alden, what do you want of posies? You're +a man."</p> + +<p>"Well, what do <i>you</i> want of them, Miles?" John +smiled down at him.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to give mine away; I'm taking them +to the Elder's cottage—"</p> + +<p>"Give them away there, eh? To Mistress Mullins, +now, perhaps?"</p> + +<p>"No, to be sure," Miles said indignantly. "I +do not like Priscilla Mullins."</p> + +<p>"Then you are the only one of that mind in +New Plymouth. Why do you not like her?"</p> + +<p>Miles went in silence a time, kicking at each +hump and hummock in his path, but Alden was +waiting for his answer, and he wished to please him. +"Well, if you must know, John Alden," he broke<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> +out at last, "I do not like Priscilla Mullins because +she kissed me."</p> + +<p>Alden began to laugh, then, suddenly picking +Miles up by the back of his doublet, shook him a +little. "Miles Rigdale," he said solemnly, as he +set the boy, rather breathless, on his feet again, +"you are an ungrateful little cub."</p> + +<p>Miles held that a most uncalled-for charge, but +he had no time to defend himself, for just then +they came over the brow of the hill by Cooke's +cottage and saw men astir in the street, so the day's +labor must be beginning. Miles ran to join Francis +and Jack, and, in bragging to his comrades of his +flowers, forgot to take them to Dolly. That night, +when he stopped to have a word with her, he told +her all about them, but he found that she was not +interested in a story of six blossoms, seeing that +Priscilla Mullins, since the morning, had had a fair +large bunch of them, such as no one else in the +settlement could show.</p> + +<p>But in the days that followed Miles had little +time to go seeking flowers on the hillslopes, or +gossiping with his sister in the twilight. For, with +never a minute of daylight to rest, the whole colony +worked now in good earnest,—taking alewives in +the brook, tugging them up into the fields, setting +the little hills with corn seed and with fish to keep +it moist. To crown all, the planting fell in a season<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> +of heat, and an intense heat, unlike the milder +warmth of England, that sapped the heart of the +stoutest worker.</p> + +<p>The first day Miles was bidden to plant corn, +putting two shiny alewives into each hole, and Jack +Cooke was set to plant the row next him. But +unhappily they chattered so much that Miles presently +realized, in some horror, that he had supplied +several hills with alewives, but no corn, and, while +he was pulling up the ground to set the matter +right, came Master Hopkins. He was angry; not +that he blustered, but he cuffed Miles smartly, and, +saying he could not be trusted at such important +work, sent him down to the shore to labor hereafter.</p> + +<p>From that time on, Miles tugged fish,—a dreary +task, in which he was coupled with Francis Billington, +another scatter-head. They had a great flat +Indian basket, in which they heaped the alewives, +taken all slippery from the big pile that lay upon +the river brink; then they would lift the basket +between them, to each a handle, and, panting and +heaving, struggle up the steep bank from the river, +and so through the settlement, out to the hot, open +fields.</p> + +<p>It was not a great load they could carry at one +time, so their usefulness depended on the number of +trips they made, but there they were sluggish. Often +the basket upset, and they had to sit down to refill<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +it; and again, more and more frequently as the hot +days went on, they must halt to quarrel, when +Francis vowed Miles was bearing down on his end +of the basket, and Miles declared Francis was not +doing his share.</p> + +<p>One morning it came to such a pass that Miles +took a basket by himself, but he found the journey +single-handed so hard that he was in even less hurry +than usual to return from the fields and get a +second load. Loitering along, he was amusing +himself by trying to carry on his head the empty +fish-basket, which <i>would</i> fall off, when, as he paused +to pick up the troublesome article for the fifth time, +Captain Standish, coming shirt-sleeved and grimy +from the fields, overtook him. Rather guiltily, +Miles straightened up very erect, and said, "Good +morrow, sir," as he always said it to the Captain.</p> + +<p>"You're journeying back to the brook, Miles?" +asked Standish. "At this speed you'll not come +thither ere dinner-time."</p> + +<p>"I'm hastening now, sir," Miles answered, accepting +the words as an invitation to trot along at +the other's side.</p> + +<p>The Captain had his own concerns to look to, +plainly, by the way he tramped along, but, right +in the midst, he glanced down at his small companion +and asked unexpectedly: "Where are your +shoes, Miles?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I—I could not wear them," the boy explained, +kicking his bare feet in the sand. "Down by the +river 'tis very wet. And then 'tis hot, so I laid off +my doublet and my shoes and stockings too. I +like to go barefoot," he added defensively. "In +England, they never suffered me; they said only +beggar children went barefoot. But—" his voice +grew suddenly anxious, "I am sure my mother +would think it right now, do not you, sir?"</p> + +<p>The Captain did not look convinced.</p> + +<p>"It is a great saving to my shoes," murmured +Miles.</p> + +<p>"You were better save your feet," the Captain +answered. "When your shoes wear out, there'll +be new ones for you. Now do you go to the house +and put them on, before you step on a thorn or do +yourself some hurt." His tone was brusque, and +he hurried at once about his business, as if he had +no time to waste.</p> + +<p>Obediently Miles went to the house to finish +dressing; he was a little sorry, because he liked the +fun of going barefoot in the soft dirt, yet, on the +whole, it was pleasant to have Captain Standish +speak to you and order you into your shoes, as if he +had some concern for you. So flattered did he feel, +indeed, that he only smiled in a superior way when +Francis Billington, barelegged and unregenerate, +sneered at him for putting on his shoes and stockings.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span></p> + +<p>But that was the last happening of the week +which Miles remembered with enjoyment, for the +first excitement had now gone out of the labor, +yet the work dragged heavily on. All through the +weary day he felt the weight of the basket pulling at +his arm and the heat of the steady sun scorching +upon his bare head; and at night, when he lay on +his pallet, with his feet throbbing and his back aching, +he dreamed of tugging fish up the breathless +pitch of a never-ending bluff.</p> + +<p>A little respite came on the Sabbath, when, of +course, no work could be done, but with Monday's +light all were in the fields once more. It was a day +of sweltering heat; the rays of the sun seemed beaten +upward again by the steaming earth, and the languid +air was heavy and sick. Toward the fiercest hour, +about noon, as Miles was panting through the fields +on a return trip to the brook, Master Carver called +to him.</p> + +<p>The Governor had knelt to set the corn at the +head of one of the rows; his doublet was off and his +hands were grimy, but, for all the heat, Miles saw +that his high, bald forehead was quite dry of perspiration. +"Here, lad," he said, as Miles ran to +him, "can you fetch us a pail of water hither to +drink?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, Governor," Miles piped in a respectful +treble, and, much impressed by the importance of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +his errand, trotted off briskly. At the spring he +longed to dally a moment, to drink of the water and +to stir up the great green frog who lived in the cool +sand of the bottom, but, so soon as his bucket was +filled, he resolutely turned back through the glaring +heat to the fields.</p> + +<p>Short as the time had been, a change had taken +place. At first he thought it a mere trick of the +dazzling light, but, as he looked again, he saw +that indeed most of the men had risen from labor +and, drawn together, were gazing in his direction. +Nearer at hand, he beheld two coming toward the +settlement; the one was John Howland, a member +of the Governor's household, and the other, who +leaned heavily upon his arm, was the Governor himself. +They passed within arm's length of the boy, +and Miles took note how the Governor's down-bent +face was now of a dull reddish hue, and he noted, +also, how the grime of his homely toil still clung to +his limp hands.</p> + +<p>Surprised and a little awed, though he scarcely +could tell why, Miles tugged on into the fields, and, +finding Goodman Cooke among those who stood +gazing after the Governor, asked him eagerly what +was wrong. "Why, naught," spoke Cooke, "only +Master Carver complains of his head; 'tis along o' +the heat, so the Doctor ordered him back to his +house to rest. He'll be well again by eventide."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span></p> + +<p>But with eventide the word went among the colonists +that Governor Carver lay unconscious, and +at those tidings faces grew grave. Miles, in his +youthfulness, gave little thought to it all; he was +more concerned with his own half-flayed hands +and aching legs than with Master Carver's illness, +and each day these physical pangs grew +keener.</p> + +<p>The height of misery came on a sultry afternoon +toward the close of the week, a breathless, stifling +time, when, for sheer weariness and hopelessness, +Miles sat down in the hot dirt in the middle of the +field and thought he never could rise again. Yet +he scrambled up briskly, when he saw his guardian +approach, though Master Hopkins, whose face was +very grave, did not scold the boy, but, after a first +sharp look, bade him go rest in the shade till the day +was out. "The hot sun is deadly," he said, as to +himself; but Miles realized only that he was bidden +to cease from labor.</p> + +<p>He dragged himself back to the house, where he +lay down upon his bed, and watched the little patch +of sunlight clamber higher up the wall and harked +to the drowsy sounds of out-of-doors; then heard +nothing clearly till the men tramped in to supper. +He sat up slowly, and listened to catch what gossip +they might bring; their voices were subdued, and +he half guessed what had befallen ere he heard<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +Master Hopkins say solemnly that the good Governor +Carver was dead.</p> + +<p>Miles thought on it the night long; this death, +lonely by itself, was so much more awesome than the +crowded sicknesses of the last winter. It seemed +the order of life must show some change, but, with +the heat of the next rising day, the colonists, as +usual, only more silent, filed forth to their labor +in the fields. For whether men were well or ill, +or lived or died, the corn that was the hope of the +settlement must be planted.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XIII<br /> + +<small>THE TWO EDWARDS</small></h2> + + +<div class='drop-cap'>THE fields of New Plymouth at last were +sown,—twenty acres of Indian corn and +six of English seed, wheat, barley, and +pease,—enough to yield an ample harvest. There +was besides another field, where the corn, however +tall it grew, would never be reaped, for, that the +savages might not know the number of the dead, +it was planted upon the graves of those who +perished in the winter's sickness.</div> + +<p>Among them lay John Carver, buried honorably +with such poor military pomp as the colony could +show its governor, and with a more precious tribute +of grief for a good man lost. Near him lay now +his wife Katharine, who at his death had grieved +and pined, till within six weeks they had dug for +her a grave in the new-sown corn-land.</p> + +<p>Master Bradford was the new governor; a grave, +wise-headed gentleman, with a gift of kindly speech +and a shrewd sense of humor, but, to Miles, his +greatest claim to respect was that the interpreter +Squanto had chosen to dwell with him. For Miles<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> +Rigdale, to use Mistress Hopkins's vexed phrase, +was "ever beating the street after the heathen savage." +It must be owned that to his guardians he +was a troublesome boy; not a bad boy, but a careless +fellow, who, though he might mean to do well, was +likely, when sent to weed in the fields, to be found +swimming in the river, or hunting strawberries on +the hills, or fishing with Squanto.</p> + +<p>Miles did not reason out his new dislike for responsible +labor, did not take into account the influence +of lazy Edward Lister, or the distractions of +the spring and early summer in this new country; +but he did feel there was a difference between working +with his father, when he knew the harvest would +be for his mother and Dolly, and grubbing in a corner +of a great field that was the property of no man, +but should feed the whole colony. He no longer +took pride in his labor, and, if he had taken any, +Mistress Hopkins's dissatisfied comments would +have destroyed it. Yet, much though he disliked +the bustling woman with the sharp tongue, he neither +disliked nor feared her the half as much as he +disliked and feared her husband.</p> + +<p>Years later, when he had come to manhood, +Miles was able to think on Master Hopkins with +gratitude, for, in all honesty, this severe, undemonstrative +man used him like a son, as kindly as he +used his own boy, Giles. Except in the stress of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> +planting-time, Miles was never set to tasks beyond +his strength; he was well fed,—as the fare of the +colony went,—well sheltered, decently clad, while +the little store of his father's goods was scrupulously +left untouched for his later use.</p> + +<p>Master Hopkins tried also, conscientiously, to +keep him to the path of strict virtue, with admonitions, +and, if need were, with corrections. It was +an age of whippings, and, on occasion, Miles was +whipped painstakingly. Master Hopkins's floggings +were, on the whole, not so severe as Goodman +Rigdale used to give his son, but Miles +resented them with an amazing outburst of anger. +"You are not my father; you have no right to beat +me," he cried, the first time Master Hopkins took +a birch rod to him, and, swinging round in a fury, +he lustily kicked his chastiser's shins.</p> + +<p>After that one attempt and the sorry consequences +which it entailed, he never again tried to defend himself, +but, though he had to submit, the old feeling +remained; to the pain and shame of a beating was +now added a rankling sense of the injustice and, so +to speak, of the illegality of it all.</p> + +<p>Beatings, though, were something every boy in +the colony, even the sober Giles, had a good share +of, so Miles made shift to endure; but Master +Hopkins presently devised a new-fangled means of +persecution, for he insisted on teaching him to read.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span></p> + +<p>The boy had clung to the black-letter Bible because +it was his father's, and sometimes of a Sunday, +between the morning and afternoon teachings at the +Common House, when it grew irksome to sit quiet +and do nothing, would take the book and spell out +half a chapter, and amuse himself with looking at +the funny black letters. But one Sunday, a warm +May Sunday, when Miles was lying with his book +in the young grass in the shadow of the house, +Master Hopkins, noting his unusual employment, +bade him read aloud to him, and, as he was a man +of education, was honestly shocked that, as he put +it, "the lad could scarce spell out his mother-tongue."</p> + +<p>From that time dated Miles's tribulations. It +was useless to protest that he could read well +enough, he did not wish to read better; Master +Hopkins's decree went forth that every night +after supper the boy was to come to him with his +Bible, and read aloud a chapter. Miles never reflected +that, after a day of hard labor in the fields +or woods, or of serious consultation with the other +leaders of the colony, it could be neither restful nor +pleasant to Master Hopkins to hear a stupid little +boy stumble through a dreary waste of words. But +he was quite aware of the unjust fact that the space +of daylight, in the long summer evenings after +supper, was the time when all the other lads were +at liberty to play, while he must drone out the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> +chronicles of dead and gone Hebrews with unpronounceable +names.</p> + +<p>The reading lesson always took place just without +the house-door, where there was a bench on which +Master Hopkins sat; Miles stood beside him, +where he could see the harbor and the street, with +the boys passing down it to the beach, perhaps; +and where, too, it was convenient for Master Hopkins +to cuff his ears when his attention strayed hopelessly +from the book to the affairs of his playmates.</p> + +<p>Sometimes, when he wished to get away and join +them in carrying out a long-laid plan of sport, Miles +would pore over his chapter twice or thrice in the +day, and so, when evening came, be able to read +it fairly. But on such occasions Master Hopkins +always said there would be time to finish another +chapter; and when it came to that, poor, disappointed +Miles always stumbled, so that his lesson +ended in disgrace and bitter rebuke.</p> + +<p>Early in July, however, he had a blissful holiday, +for Master Hopkins went with Master Winslow +and Squanto far inland to visit King Massasoit, so +for five days there was no one to bid Miles read a +word. Neither did any one whip him, for all he +shirked his weeding, and ran away to fish in the +harbor with Ned Lister and the sailor, Trevor, and +played by the brookside with the other boys till +long after dark.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p> + +<p>Dotey, to be sure, one morning when Miles forgot +to fetch a supply of water, and he had to fetch +it himself, threatened to "swinge" him; he was a +steady fellow, was Dotey, and, since Giles was but +a lad, in his master's absence was tacitly admitted to +the headship of the household. But when he talked +of beating Miles, up rose Ned, and called him, with +an oath, a great bully, swaggering in his little ha'penny +borrowed authority, and threatened, if he laid +hands on the little fellow, to break his head for him.</p> + +<p>It was in the living room this happened, just before +the noon meal; Miles remembered afterward +the good smell of the roast fish Mistress Hopkins +was setting on the table, and what an overpowering +heat came from the great fire on the hearth. He +was standing near the fireplace, backed up against +the wall, a little conscience-stricken and fearful of +a whipping, but still more frightened by the vehemence +of the two men. Lister had swaggered +across the floor, and stood before him, and Miles +was glad of his protection, though he half realized +that it was not alone the desire to defend him, but +the desire to defy Dotey, the trusted and sober, that +spoke in Ned's tone.</p> + +<p>Constance's quiet voice, as she stepped between +the two young men, quelled the squabble: "Don't +curse so, pray you, Ned. And, Ed Dotey, do not +you whip Miles; he only forgot—"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He does not merit whipping," spoke slow Giles, +who held his own little resentment that his father's +servant was set in authority over him.</p> + +<p>Mistress Hopkins interrupted tartly that Miles +needed a strong hand to correct him, and Dotey was +quite in his right; her approval made it lawful +enough for the young man to carry out his intention, +but Dotey, like a discreet fellow, had no wish to +bring about a scuffle with Lister and a hot family +quarrel in his master's absence. So he said, as if it +were a concession, that he would do as Constance +asked, and let Miles off this time; and with that +they all sat down peaceably to dinner. Miles ate his +full share of the fish, and, believing this episode +happily ended, put it quite out of his head.</p> + +<p>He had good cause to remember it some ten days +later. By then Master Hopkins had returned, so it +was necessary for all to be busy, and Miles weeded +in the corn-field till his back ached, and every evening +read his chapter in the Bible. But one morning, +a hot, dull morning with an overcast sky, Ned and +Giles planned to go with Squanto to fish for perch +in a pond far up in the woods, and Miles received +a reward for his diligence of the last few days in a +permission to go with them. Giles and the Indian +started on ahead, to take the bait, while the two others +stayed to make ready the extra tackle, which, being +left to Ned's management, was always in a snarl.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p> + +<p>Lister was sitting on the bench by the house-door, +whistling a little, as he disentangled lines and adjusted +hooks, and Miles, kneeling on the grass +beside him, was giving what help he could, when +Master Hopkins and Dotey came out of the cottage. +Dotey, who had an axe on his shoulder, headed +away through the garden to the hills whence firewood +was fetched, but Master Hopkins came and +stood over Ned.</p> + +<p>How it went and exactly what was said, Miles +scarcely comprehended, but he heard Master Hopkins's +stern voice and Ned's sulky answering tones, +and in the lulls the rattle of trenchers, as Constance, +inside the house, cleared the breakfast table. The +gist seemed to be that Master Hopkins had found +out about Ned's threatening to break Edward +Dotey's head, for he rated him soundly that he +durst lift his voice against one set in authority +over him, a sober man, who was his better—</p> + +<p>"He is not my better," Ned retorted, flinging up +his head, with his eyes sullen and angry.</p> + +<p>"Do you grow saucy to contradict me?" Hopkins +asked frowningly.</p> + +<p>Too much had been said of Dotey for Ned to cast +off rebuke with his usual shrug; flinging aside the +tackle, he started to his feet, but, before he could +walk away, Hopkins caught him by the shoulder. +As they stood thus Miles noted, with sudden surprise,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> +that alongside Master Hopkins Ned looked +slight and almost boyish; somehow Miles had +always thought of him as a man, because he was +old enough to use a razor.</p> + +<p>"You shall stay till I have done with speaking," +said Master Hopkins; and then Ned made a sudden +movement to free himself, flung up one arm, +half involuntarily,—and Stephen Hopkins reached +him a blow that, taking him beneath the chin, +stretched him flat on the ground at his master's feet.</p> + +<p>The women came to the house-door, and it surprised +Miles that it was not Constance, but Mistress +Hopkins, who cried, in a frightened voice: "Stephen, +Stephen, I pray you—"</p> + +<p>Ned rose to his feet with his face white, and stood +brushing the dirt off the side on which he had +fallen; there was a great brown streak of it along one +sleeve and the shoulder of his shirt. "There's +work you have made for the mistress, sir," he said, +and began laughing in a high key.</p> + +<p>"That's enough," Stephen Hopkins checked him. +"Remember, I've never laid hands on you ere now, +Edward Lister, but if you mend not your ways, this +will not be the last time." He lingered yet a moment +ere he turned away to the door, as if awaiting +an answer, but Ned made no reply, just stood fumbling +at the fishing tackle with one hand, while the +other hung limp at his side.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span></p> + +<p>Only when Master Hopkins had passed out of +sight into the house did Lister raise his head, and +then, squaring his shoulders, he led the way toward +the street. "Will you not take the tackle, after +all?" asked Miles, running at his side. Ned's only +answer was a shake of the head, and to all Miles's +further efforts at talk and one clumsy effort at sympathy +he kept silent.</p> + +<p>They left behind them the sandy street, and, +skirting along the bluff, came to the path to the +spring and the stepping-stones, beyond which lay +the trail to the ponds. Ned did not turn off there, +however, but trudged on till he reached the little +stream that flowed from the pool where they had +cut thatch. "Whither are you going?" panted +Miles, for the third time.</p> + +<p>"Where you were best not come," Ned answered, +crashing into the bushes on the right hand. But +Miles turned doggedly in his steps, through the +first crisp thickets and then along the miry ground +by the edge of the pool, where the air was so muggy +that he wondered Ned cared to keep up his reckless +pace.</p> + +<p>Of necessity the speed slackened, as they clambered +over the pebbles and pushed aside the crackling +undergrowth of a dry gully in the northern hillside, +but it was not till they were tramping through the +hushed woods on the summit that Ned spoke: "Did<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> +you know, Miley, my father was a gentleman? A +great family, the Listers, up Yorkshire way. But +he was a mere younger son, and he married a pretty +serving wench out of his father's hall, so they would +have no more of him. But he was a gentleman, and +he tried to give me a smattering of decent breeding,—" +there Ned began to laugh, with the corners +of his mouth drawn up, and his eyes mirthless,—"and +I am a brisk serving fellow, whom the master +pommels at will, eh, Miles? And they set a clod +like Edward Dotey over me."</p> + +<p>There was going to be a fight, Miles guessed, but +though at another time he might have been secretly +glad at the prospect of such excitement, he had +seen one man knocked flat that day, and it had +not been amusing, so now he was not over-zealous +for the sport. "Come back and fish, Ned," he +coaxed, plucking at his companion's sleeve, when +that very moment, on the hillside below them, both +caught the sound of an axe falling on wood.</p> + +<p>After that Miles scrambled down the slope, eager +as Ned himself, in his curiosity to see what would +follow. A little clearing it was they came out in, +where one tree had been newly felled, and its clean +stump showed yellow; by the tree trunk, leaning +on his axe and wiping his sweaty forehead with his +sleeve, stood Dotey.</p> + +<p>"Well, Neddy, I've come to talk with you," Lister<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> +greeted him, in a fleering voice, and on the word +set himself down on the stump, with his hands clasped +about one knee.</p> + +<p>At first it was a talking, that lay all on Ned's +side, while Dotey tried to keep up a pretense of +work. Ned spoke words, well-chosen and stinging, +that should make even stolid Dotey wince, and spoke +them in a jibing tone, with a hateful laugh that +startled Miles, even more than the sight of the little +pulsing motion of the blood in Ned's dark cheeks.</p> + +<p>Dotey swung round impatiently at last. "Hold +your tongue, will you?" he cried.</p> + +<p>"It is thou who wert better have held thy tongue, +Neddy, before thou wentst blabbing to Hopkins of +what passed between us."</p> + +<p>"I did not," Dotey answered blankly.</p> + +<p>"Thou art a liar," quoth Ned, quietly, and still +hugging his knee.</p> + +<p>Then Dotey strode over to him, and Ned, laughing +up into his face, jeered at him, "threaten a man +with his fists, would he, when he had just set Hopkins +on to rebuke him for the like offense;" but +at length he rose up and cast his mocking manner. +"We are agreed there is one Edward too +many in the house," he said slowly. "Now say +we despatch one forth of it. Will you fight me +like a gentleman, rapier and dagger?"</p> + +<p>In a daze Miles listened to Dotey's first protests,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> +Ned's taunts, till the final agreement was struck and +the arrangements made. "I'll contrive to fetch +rapier and dagger from the Captain's house," Ned +concluded, "and do you, Miles, take those that +hang in Hopkins's chamber, and bring them unto +us behind the Fort Hill."</p> + +<p>Unquestioningly, Miles sped upon the errand. +The sun had burnt away the fog now; among the +trees it was hot and breathless, and, when he ran +through the fields, the drying earth crumbled under +his feet. Yet he scarcely minded heat or dust, as +he thought on what was now to come, and thrilled +with anticipation; for, down in his heart, he told +himself Dotey and Lister would never hurt each +other, and he had never seen anything livelier than +a bout at quarterstaff, and a real duel would be a +wonderful thing to witness.</p> + +<p>By the time he came to the house, he was all of +an excited flutter, but happily Mistress Hopkins +alone was within, and she was so busied in scouring +her pewter platters that she only looked up to ask +sharply what brought him back.</p> + +<p>"Just to fetch somewhat for Ned," Miles answered +guiltily; and then fortune favored him, for +Damaris, within the bedroom, set up a wail, and +Mistress Hopkins bade him run in and soothe +her.</p> + +<p>So Miles sang to baby, and, singing, took Master<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> +Hopkins's dagger from the shelf and hid it beneath +his doublet; then slipped the rapier from the +wall, and, after a hasty glance to see that none were +looking, dropped it out at the open window. Still +Damaris would not hush, and he had to pace the +floor a time, singing always, though his voice shook +with impatience, and his forehead was wet with +perspiration.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 324px;"> +<img src="images/i_201.jpg" width="324" height="500" alt="swordfighting" /> +<div class="caption">"Saw the two young men close in combat."</div> +</div> + +<p>At last the child was quieted. Placing her on the +bed, he passed quickly out through the living room, +and, running behind the house, snatched up the +rapier from the grass. Still none saw or intercepted +him; the men and boys were at work; the +intense heat of the day kept the women within their +cottages. But to Miles each doorway seemed full +of faces, and, in a panic, he ran for the northern +spur of the hill, at a pace that brought the heart +strangling into his throat.</p> + +<p>On the west side of Fort Hill was a little level +space in the abrupt descent, where some pine trees +stood wide apart, and the ground was brown and +slippery with pine needles. There Lister and Dotey, +both with their doublets and shoes cast off, were +awaiting Miles; Dotey, with his stolid face grim, +sat on the ground, turning a rapier in his hands, but +Ned Lister was pacing slowly to and fro.</p> + +<p>"I came—fast as I could run," panted Miles.</p> + +<p>"You saw no one?" questioned Lister, as he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> +took Master Hopkins's rapier and measured it with +the one Dotey held.</p> + +<p>"No, no one."</p> + +<p>"Francis Billington has been spying about here, +though," Dotey spoke evenly. "'Twas while you +were at the Captain's house. I sent him packing. +But he may bring—"</p> + +<p>"Ere any come, we'll be done with the work," +Ned Lister interrupted. "Here, Miles, do you +run up to the hilltop and lie you down in the grass. +If you see any man coming upon us, whistle us a +warning."</p> + +<p>The grass, in the glare of the sun where the trees +had been felled, was a dazzling green, and the slope +was very steep. From the summit of the hill where +he lay down half-hidden, as they bade, Miles could see +the blue harbor and all the sunny street of the town, +so deserted that he ventured a glance back over his +shoulder. His eyes were fastened there, for he saw +the two young men close in combat; he heard the +click of steel, saw the quick thrust and recovery, the +bending and swaying of the struggling bodies. Then +a cry rose up in his throat and choked there, for he +saw the dagger fly out of Dotey's hand, and saw +him slip upon the pine needles.</p> + +<p>A clatter of feet on hollow boards made him look +suddenly toward the gun platform, and he had an +instant's sight of Captain Standish, who, clapping<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +his hand to the railing of the platform, cleared it +at a leap and ran headlong down into the pine +thicket. Setting his fingers to his lips, Miles gave +a shrill whistle, and right upon it heard the Captain +cry, in a terrible voice, "What work is this?" +Casting one frightened glance down the hill, Miles +saw Ned lay on his side among the pine needles, +and Dotey stood over him with one hand dripping +blood.</p> + +<p>The sky seemed to waver and the whole green +world to stagger with the horror of what had happened. +Miles crawled away through the long grass +down the hillside, through the undergrowth, and +never paused till he hid himself, terrified and sick, +in the tangle by the pool in the hollow.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XIV<br /> + +<small>A MIGHTY RESOLUTION</small></h2> + + +<div class='drop-cap'>THE sun had dropped behind Fort Hill, and +long shadows darkened the soft sand of +the street, when Miles at last ventured into +the settlement. All the hot day he had lain hidden +by the pool and watched the shreds of cloud skim +across the deep sky and harked to the shrilling of +the locusts, while he tried not to think, yet all the +time was conscious of the awful thing that had happened, +in which he had had a hand.</div> + +<p>Disjointedly, from time to time, he had planned +how he would act a part, would feign to be quite +ignorant of the duel, and be amazed when he learned +of it; but when the test came, when he found himself +actually in the street of the town, his head +whirled, and he felt that his guilt could be read in +his very face.</p> + +<p>From a dooryard some one called his name, +whereat Miles's heart fairly ceased to beat; but it +was only his friend, Jack Cooke, who came running +to hang over his father's gate and speak to him: +"Ah, Miles, where ha' you been? Have you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> +heard talk of what happened?" There was no +time for Miles to stammer out a vague answer, +before Jack ran on: "Ned Lister and Ned Dotey, +they fought a duel, real cut and thrust, up behind +the hill, and the Captain came upon them, and +they've had them before the Governor and the +Elder, and there's been such a to-do."</p> + +<p>"Had them? Then neither was killed?" Miles +cried, with a momentary feeling that nothing could +matter, if both men still lived.</p> + +<p>"Nay, but Dotey has a great gash across the +palm of his hand, and Ned Lister was slashed in +the thigh so he scarce could walk. I saw 'em when +they were fetched down into the village, and they +have locked Dotey up at Master Allerton's house, +and Lister at Master Hopkins's."</p> + +<p>"Wh—what are they going to do to them?" faltered +Miles.</p> + +<p>"Something terrible, to be sure," Jack answered +happily; "the Captain and all are main angry. +And Goodman Billington was for flogging Francis +mightily out of hand, but the Elder said stay till +to-morrow, when they would question all further."</p> + +<p>"What has Francis done?"</p> + +<p>"Why, he was with them; he kept watch while +they fought. That is, one of the lads lay in the +grass and whistled them; the Captain had the least +glimpse of him; but they found Francis prowling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> +on the hill, so it must ha' been he. He says 'twasn't, +but Francis is a deal of a liar, we all know."</p> + +<p>Miles drew a long breath, and, turning from the +gateway, went scuffing through the sand down the +street. It was Francis, not he, whom they suspected, +he repeated, but the next moment he told +himself that it made no difference; since he was +the culprit, he must come forward and take the +blame. But when he saw Master Hopkins sitting +by the house-door, his heart choked up into his +throat, and his step faltered. After all, he would +not speak to Master Hopkins yet; his share in the +duel would be discovered soon enough.</p> + +<p>With a feeling that he wished to propitiate every +one, he trudged round the house to fetch an armful +of wood, and there, by the pile, Giles was at work +with an axe. "Well, Miles?" he said, pausing in +his task, and then, as Miles came to his side, whispered +him: "Look you, father thinks you were +fishing with me all this day, that Ned sent you +back to the house to be quit of you, and that +you came home with me, but stopped at the spring. +I told him naught; he just thought so and—I let +him think so."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Giles, you are right good," gulped Miles. +"For I—"</p> + +<p>"Hush now! I don't want to know aught." +And Giles went back to his chopping.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span></p> + +<p>No one would find him out, then; he was safe +from the mighty beating he expected. Francis—well, +since he was innocent, of course he would say +so, and they would believe him and not punish him. +Anyway, he had no thought of confessing, Miles +assured himself hastily, as, on entering the living +room, he met Master Hopkins's stern gaze.</p> + +<p>The master of the house was in a gloomy temper +that evening; a new sense of the gravity of that +day's happenings came over Miles, as he looked on +his harsh face. Mistress Hopkins, too, was silenced +completely, and the young folk did not venture +to speak while their elders did not address them, +nor had they any wish to talk, with the two empty +places at table confronting them. No word was +uttered till the meal was nearly eaten, when Mistress +Hopkins, after a swift glance at her husband, cut a +thick end from the loaf of bread, and, setting it on +a trencher, turned to Miles. "Fill a jug of water, +and carry that and the bread to Edward Lister," she +said sharply.</p> + +<p>"Edward Lister may go fasting to-night," Master +Hopkins spoke, in a grim voice.</p> + +<p>Miles, who had slipped from his stool, stood +shifting from one foot to the other, while he waited +to see which he should obey.</p> + +<p>"Do as I bid you, Miles," Mistress Hopkins repeated +steadily, though one hand, which she rested<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +on the edge of the table, clenched in nervous wise. +"The man is hurt, and whatever he has done he +shall not go hungry and thirsty. Either Miles shall +take him food and drink, Stephen, or I shall do so +myself." She rose, and, filling a jug from the +water-pail, gave it to the dubious Miles. "Take +it to him, there in the closet," she bade; so Miles, +without waiting for Master Hopkins to prevent, +stepped hastily into the little room and shut the +door behind him.</p> + +<p>The closet was very narrow, very hot, and very +dusky, for the evening light came but sparsely +through the little window. Just beneath the window, +where whatever slight breeze entered the room +could be felt, the old mattress was outspread, and +on it Ned Lister lay. He had been resting his +head upon his folded doublet, but at Miles's coming +he drew himself up on his elbow; his face was +white in the dimness, and he looked limp and sick +and cowed.</p> + +<p>"Here's bread and water, Ned," Miles began, +as he crossed to him. "And—and I'm mighty +sorry."</p> + +<p>"I'm not," Ned answered, in a dogged tone. "I +wish only that I'd killed him. Give me a drink." +He took the jug from Miles and gulped down the +water with audible swallowings; then, when he could +drink no more, set it beside him. "They'd 'a' made<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> +little more tumult if I had killed him," he went on. +"But I care not what they do to me."</p> + +<p>"What—what do you think they will do to us, +Ned?" Miles quavered; the young man's prisoned +and unfriended state and desperate tone had dislodged +him from his last stronghold of security.</p> + +<p>"They spoke of flogging us," Ned answered +hopelessly.</p> + +<p>"A public flogging?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>It was only a birching Miles had looked for. +A public flogging! The horror and fright were +actual and overwhelming, for it never entered his +head that in punishment a distinction would be +made between the two principals in the duel and +their wretched little second. "Flog us!" he repeated +dazedly. "Or—or perhaps they will hang +us?"</p> + +<p>"I care not if they do," Ned retorted, and, taking +up the jug, drained out the last of the water. +"Fetch me another draught, Miley, that's a good +lad," he begged. "My throat is all afire."</p> + +<p>It was darker now in the living room, so none +could note the expression of his face, and Miles was +glad for that. When he filled the jug at the pail +he slopped the water clumsily, so Mistress Hopkins +chided him. He could not seem to think or even +see, for, as he stumbled back into the closet, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> +bumped his forehead against the door. "Oh, Ned," +he whispered, as he bent over the injured man again, +"they—they have accused Francis in my place, +but I—"</p> + +<p>"Why, that's well," Ned spoke, as he set down +the jug. "I'm glad for't; you'll not be punished +along o' me. I'll tell no word of you, Miley, you +may be sure, and if Dotey will but hold his blabbing +tongue—"</p> + +<p>"But—but they'll flog him; I ought to tell—"</p> + +<p>"Let him be flogged, the imp!" Ned growled. +"But you, Miley—"</p> + +<p>There was no chance to finish, for Master Hopkins, +appearing in the doorway, sternly ordered +Miles to come forth, and, when he had quitted the +closet, bolted the door.</p> + +<p>By now it was too dark for a reading lesson, and, +even if it had been light, the whole routine of the +day seemed overturned. Miles wandered out into +the house-yard, but he had no will to seek the other +boys; they might talk to him of Francis. Somehow, +too, he did not wish to see Dolly or Mistress +Brewster, who had told him how his mother looked +for him to be a good lad. He went and sat down +alone on the woodpile, where he harked to the distant +frogs that were piping, and watched the stars +come out over the sea.</p> + +<p>So he was still sitting when at last Constance stole<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> +out to him, and, putting her hand on his shoulder, +whispered him he mustn't go away and grieve so +about poor Ned. He shook her off surlily; he +was tired and sleepy, and didn't want to talk, he +said, and so rose and slouched away to his bedroom. +There it was stiflingly hot, so when he lay down +he pushed aside the coverlet, and even then he +thrashed restlessly.</p> + +<p>Presently Giles came in and lay down in the other +bed that Dotey and Lister had shared; he did not +offer to talk, but, settling himself at once to sleep, +was soon breathing regularly. Miles counted each +indrawing of his breath, and tried, breathing with +him, to cheat himself into sleeping; and tried too, +with the bed beneath him scorching hot, to hold +himself quiet in one position. His face was wet +with perspiration, and his head ached. Somewhere +in the room a mosquito sang piercingly, so he must +strike about him with his hands, and still the creature +sang and the air was breathless, and he could +not sleep.</p> + +<p>Then he ceased the effort to gain unconsciousness, +and deliberately set himself to face it all, and +reason it out. He had done a wicked thing, and he +should be punished for it. Francis was accused, +but Francis was innocent and must be declared so. +It did not matter though his comrades bade him +keep silent; it was one thing for Giles not to bear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> +tales of Miles, and another for Miles not to bear +tales of himself; and for Ned Lister's way of thinking, +it was not the way which Captain Standish +would have counselled. What would the Captain +think of him, when he knew him for a rascal who +deserved whipping, Miles wondered miserably. Yet +it was the Captain who had told him hard things +must be done, not shirked aside; and by that ruling +Miles realized that the only way for him was to let +them know it was he himself, not Francis, who had +borne a part in the duel.</p> + +<p>Specious objections came, and he crushed them +down; and there came, more stubborn, the promptings +of fear. A public flogging, Ned had hinted; +and Miles recalled a dull day in the market +town, whither his father had taken him, a jeering +crowd of motley folk, a cart with a fellow laughing +on the driver's seat, and tied by the wrists to the +cart's tail, stripped to the waist, a man who kept his +head bent down and never winced, for all the great +blows the constable was laying across his shoulders. +Even now Miles turned sick at the remembrance of +the red gashes the whip had made. But Francis had +not earned such punishment, and he had earned it.</p> + +<p>Miles rose from his restless bed, and stood by the +window to catch a breath of air. The moon was up +now, and a pale, hot glow lay on the fields to northward, +but not a whiff of a breeze was astir. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> +harbor, as he saw it from the window, lay glassy +smooth beneath the moon. He put his weary head +down on his arms, and for a moment did not think, +only wished it were last night, when the duel was +yet unfought.</p> + +<p>Then he lay down in bed, and turned and +tossed, and went his round of courage and fears +again. He was not conscious that there had been a +period of sleep; he had no sense of restfulness just +ending, only of bitter dreams, but he found the room +alight and a faint, early-morning freshness in the +air, so he knew some time had passed and it was +day.</p> + +<p>He did not remember in detail the thoughts of +the night, but the conclusion was the same, and still +clearer for him to see in the glare of morning. Rising +quickly, he dressed himself so hurriedly that he +was done before sleepy Giles had pulled on his shirt; +then went out into the living room. Mistress Hopkins +was lighting her fire with flint and steel, and +Constance was stirring up porridge for the breakfast; +but he gave them no heed, for outside the +door he caught a glimpse of Master Hopkins.</p> + +<p>"Why, Miles, are you ill?" Constance asked, as +she looked up at him.</p> + +<p>Miles shook his head, and stepped out upon the +doorstone. At the bench alongside the door Master +Hopkins, in his shirt-sleeves, was washing his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> +face in a basin of water; he did not look up, but +Miles, without waiting for his notice, plunged into +the confession while his courage held. "Master +Hopkins, I want to tell you—"</p> + +<p>"What is it, Miles?" Hopkins asked curtly, as +he began wiping his face on the big, coarse towel.</p> + +<p>"It was not Francis, sir, it was I. The duel, +you understand—" Miles's voice was faint and +quavering,—"it was not Francis."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" said Stephen Hopkins +then, and lowered the towel from his face; the +water-drops clung to his forehead, and his hair was +all on end, but the very grotesqueness of his look +made it the more formidable to Miles.</p> + +<p>"It was not Francis," he repeated shakily, while +his trembling fingers picked at a splinter in the door-frame. +"I took the rapier out o' your bedchamber; +I was in the grass and whistled to them." He +stopped there, with his eyes on the toes of his +shoes; he did not want to look at Master Hopkins's +face, and he held his body tense against the +grasp which he expected would hale him into confinement +along with Ned Lister.</p> + +<p>But instead there was a sickening silence that +seemed to last for minutes; then Master Hopkins +said slowly: "I marvel why that you, the son of a +godly man, should have a hand in all the evil +doings of the settlement. You must go tell this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> +unto the Governor, so soon as breakfast is ended. +And I shall myself speak more of it to you."</p> + +<p>Mechanically Miles stood aside to let Master +Hopkins pass into the house, and then he still +stood a time, gazing at the gray doorstone beneath +his feet. Presently he stepped down on the turf +and slouched round to the corner of the house, +where Trug was tied at night; though every one +thought him evil, and they were going to flog him, +Trug would still lick his hands lovingly. He untied +the dog, and, holding to one end of his strap, +went back through the yard; Constance, from the +doorway, called to him to come in to breakfast, but, +shaking his head, he walked on.</p> + +<p>Outside the yard the street was quite empty, for +the colonists were all at their morning meal. Miles +trudged slowly through the sand up the hillside, +and then turned down the path to the spring, which +he judged at that hour would be deserted. Sure +enough, the only moving things beneath the high +bluff were the leaping waters of the living well, +and the sunbeams that sifted through the branches +of the encroaching alders, and sprinkled the trodden +turf.</p> + +<p>Casting himself down on the margin, Miles took +a long drink of the water, that might have been +brackish and hot for any good taste he had of it, +then sat up and leaned against Trug, with one arm<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +about the dog's neck. He had thought, so soon +as he was thus by himself, he would cry, but he felt +all choked inside; his wickedness was too deep even +for tears.</p> + +<p>Suddenly two hands were clapped over his face. +"Guess who 'tis," piped a treble voice, and, uncovering +his eyes, Miles thrust up one hand and dragged +Dolly down beside him,—a very brave Dolly, in a +clean apron, with her scarlet poppet hugged under +one arm. "I ran to the spring for Mistress Brewster," +she explained, "but I cast away my jug when +I saw you. Why are you here, Miles?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Dolly," Miles burst out, "I have been +uncommon wicked and helped fight a duel, and +they are going to flog me through the streets, and +maybe they'll hang me, and I would my mother +were here." He mastered the inclination to screw +his knuckles into his eyes, and, as he sat scowling +at the hill across the brook, and blinking bravely, +to keep a good showing before the little girl, a +mighty new idea popped into his head and made +him happy again. "But I shan't let them flog +me," he said, grandly as Ned Lister himself. "You +tell it to no one, Dolly, but I have it in mind to +run away."</p> + +<p>"Whither, Miles?" the damsel asked, with interest, +but no great amazement.</p> + +<p>"I shall go into the woods and live with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +Indians," Miles said slowly, forming his plan as +he spoke. "They're good, pleasant folk; and I'll +build me a house of branches, and eat raspberries, and +maybe kill birds with a sling, and I'll have Trug +at night." It occurred to him that Trug would not +be the liveliest of company. "Why, Dolly, say +you come too," he cried. "We'll keep the house +together, as I thought they'd let us when father +died."</p> + +<p>Dolly's face dimpled at the prospect, then grew +sober. "But if we live in the woods, Miles, we +cannot go to meeting of a Sunday, and that would +never do. Let's build our house just over the +brook—"</p> + +<p>"Pshaw!" said Miles, contemptuously, "I might +as well go back and let them whip me now. I'm +going away into the forest. Will you come?" He +rose and walked manfully toward the stepping-stones, +but Dolly still sat hugging her poppet in her arms. +"If you've no wish to—" Miles said, feeling brave +and important, no longer a poor, trembling, little +culprit. Then he turned his back on her, and gave +his attention to leading Trug safely from stone to +stone across the brook.</p> + +<p>But, as he gained the opposite bank, he heard a +cry behind him: "Wait, oh, wait, Miles!" Dolly, +with the poppet in her arms, came slipping and +scrambling across the stepping-stones and caught<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> +his hand. "Love Brewster says he does not like +girls and went away to play with Harry Samson," +she panted. "And you are the only brother I have, +Miles, and I love you, and methinks I'd liefer go +with you and be an Indian."</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XV<br /> + +<small>IN THE SOUTHWARD COUNTRY</small></h2> + + +<div class='drop-cap'>ACROSS the brook the woods spread away to +westward and to southward,—majestic oak +trees, lulling pines, pale birches, besides the +walnut and beech trees, and a host of others, the +names of which Miles did not know. Thick though +they stood in the forest, all were soundless now, and +well-nigh motionless in the still air of morning. In +all the wood the only active thing seemed the sunshine, +which came sliding through the branches to +mottle the turf or make the pine needles shiny.</div> + +<p>An ardent sun it was too, even where it fell +sparsely among the trees, and beyond the thickets, +where the path led over unprotected hilltops, it beat +fiercely through the breathless air till the heat fairly +stifled the travellers. "Shall you go far before you +build your house, Miles?" panted Dolly, when the +roofs of the settlement were barely sunk from sight.</p> + +<p>Miles explained that he held it best to push on +to the river where he had gone eeling, so he might +have plenty of fish in his dooryard. He thought +to make his way directly to the place, but the journey<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> +through the heat seemed longer than when he +tramped it in the springtime, and he could not find +an easy path so adroitly as Squanto had found one. +He had to bear away inland too, lest on the seacoast +he come upon some of the colonists gathering +shellfish; and inland, not only was the going through +the undergrowth difficult, but the hills shut off the +least whiff of coolness from the sea.</p> + +<p>Soon Dolly gasped for breath, Trug lolled out +his tongue, and even Miles found many pretexts +to rest. Here amid the moss bubbled a spring, +where the children delayed to drink and cool +their hands; there lay a muddy pond, covered with +white lilies, which Miles, though he wet his feet, +strove to get with a long stick; and again and yet +again they came on tangles of luscious raspberries, +where they paused to eat their fill.</p> + +<p>Miles had in his pocket a fourpenny whittle, his +dearest possession, with which he stripped a great +piece of bark from a birch tree, and, cleaving two +sticks, shaped it into a basket, in which to carry +away some of the berries "against dinner-time." +But the basket proved an incumbrance to the wayfarers, +so, before they had wandered another mile, +the two children sat down in a pine grove, and ate +the berries they had gathered. They tied Trug +carefully, a needless precaution, for the old dog, +with as burdening a sense of responsibility as Miles<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> +himself, had no thought of trotting home and leaving +those two foolish little bodies to their own protection.</p> + +<p>By the position of the sun Miles judged it past +noon, when they came at last to a brook, which he +thought might be the upper waters of the stream he +was seeking. He waded in first to try its depth; +then, in gallant fashion, would have carried Dolly +over, but little mistress wished the fun of paddling +too. The alders, coming low to the brookside, cast +a rippling shadow on the water, and the sandy bottom +was firm and cool; so when both children once +had waded in, they spent some time in splashing to +and fro, while Miles set forth to Dolly how he had +caught eels.</p> + +<p>The shadows were beginning to lengthen when +they climbed out on the farther side of the brook, +and passed slowly up the next hillslope. Dolly now +found she was tired, so Miles said they might as +well build their house there as anywhere. Indeed, +halfway up the slope they found a capital spot, +where the hill, drawing back on itself, left a little +level space, with sparse undergrowth and tall trees, +the vanguard of the forest higher up, that cast a +good shade.</p> + +<p>To be sure, the exposure was northern, but that +would make the place cool in summer, Miles set +forth its advantages, and when winter came, they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> +could move round and pitch their camp on the +other side of the hill, to southward. "But I +shouldn't like to dwell in the wood when it snows," +protested Dolly. "Let us go back and stay at +Plymouth, come winter."</p> + +<p>But Miles, in his new independence, laughed at +the idea of return, and assured Dolly that he knew +how to make her a snug enough house for all +weathers. He would drive four forked stakes into +the ground; and then, from fork to fork, he would +lay four sticks; and across those, other great sticks; +and thatch all over with moss. He would drive +stakes into the ground to form the sides of the +cabin, and wattle them with elder twigs; and it +would be just the trimmest little house she ever +saw. Yes, he could drive stakes inside and divide +the space into rooms, and he would cut windows; the +only thing that troubled him was how to build the +fireplace, but he guessed he would think that out +presently.</p> + +<p>About the time that the red rays of the sun +slipped under the lower branches of the trees, Miles +laid off his doublet and rolled up his shirt-sleeves, +ready for work. First, with his heel, he scored in +the dirt the lines of his house; they might as well +have a big one, he replied to Dolly's delighted +exclamations.</p> + +<p>The little girl ran about within the four lines and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> +scored for herself the rooms which they would make. +"'Twill be such sport, Miles," she chattered. "A +keeping room we'll have, and a parlor, and a great +hall." Down she set herself on the grass, between +the wavering lines that marked the hall, and waited +for her brother to build the house over her.</p> + +<p>But, though Miles strode jauntily down into the +bushes and stayed a great time, when he came back, +he bore, not an armful of stakes, but two forked +sticks, very gnarled and crooked, and another stick, +some five feet long, without a fork. "What have +you been doing, Miles?" Dolly greeted him, in a +disappointed tone.</p> + +<p>"Why, the wood is hard, and my knife is not +very big," the boy answered sheepishly, "so perhaps +to-night, as 'tis drawing late, I'd best put up +just a little shelter. But I'll build the house to-morrow, +Dolly."</p> + +<p>Then, because the little girl's face fell so grievously, +he made haste to amuse her by turning to +such work as he could do that evening. With a +stone for a hammer, he drove his forked sticks into +the ground, and laid the other stick across them; +that was the ridgepole, he told Dolly, and now, leaning +other boughs against it, he would make a shelter +that would be quite sufficient on so hot a night.</p> + +<p>But it was wearisome work, haggling off tough +boughs with his small whittle, and he was tired with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> +walking, and perhaps, he reasoned, as it was drawing +on to sunset, he were best not leave Dolly alone +by herself and go down into the dim thickets. So, +after he had cut enough branches to go a third along +one side of his ridgepole, he said vaguely that maybe +he would get some more before dark, and so sat +down close by Dolly.</p> + +<p>In the west the sun had already sunk, and little +pink clouds were drifting through the sky; the +afterglow still lingered on the open land of the valley +along the stream; but in the woods, as Miles +glanced over his shoulder, the grim shadows lurked. +It was awesomely silent too, till, on a sudden, a +bird began warbling, and presently, fluttering near, +perched on a branch above the children, where he +trilled lustily.</p> + +<p>Miles had some pebbles in his pocket, and, slipping +off his garter, he improvised a sling; he would +kill the bird for their supper, he told his sister, but +Dolly protested; she would rather the pretty bird +lived and sang than that she should eat him. So +the songster finished his tune and flashed away into +the darkening sky, and Miles felt as warm a glow +of self-gratulation at giving in to his sister as if he +had been quite certain of fetching down the bird +with his sling.</p> + +<p>"But we've naught for our supper now, Dolly," +he sighed presently. "To-morrow, though, I'll<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> +find my way to the shore and take us some clams, +and, in any case, we'll gather plenty of berries when +it's daylight. And you do not mind going supperless +now?"</p> + +<p>"N—no," Dolly assented faintly; since the +twilight came on them, she had grown very quiet.</p> + +<p>"I wish Ned Lister could 'a' slipped away with +us," Miles resumed. "If he were here with his +fowling piece and his fishing line, he'd take us all +the victuals we'd want. And he'd be good company, +too."</p> + +<p>Then they sat in silence a time, very close to each +other, with the dog at their feet. Over in the west +the bright stars twinkled through the last waning +flecks of the sunset glow, and somewhere in the +dark the frogs were piping. "Miles," whispered +Dolly, "aren't you lonely?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure not," he answered stoutly.</p> + +<p>"Do you not think—perhaps we could walk +back home? I'm not weary now."</p> + +<p>"I've come hither to stay," Miles said crossly; +"you can run back if you will; no one will flog +you."</p> + +<p>"You know I cannot go alone," whimpered +Dolly. "And maybe there are Indians and lions +will get us. Hark!"</p> + +<p>Miles sat erect and listened, every nerve tense, +but he heard only the snap of a branch, yonder<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> +among the black trees. "It was naught, Dolly," he +said more kindly, "and you needn't fear; I can +take care of you. Come, let's lie down in our +shelter, and to-morrow in the daylight we'll build +our house."</p> + +<p>They crept in behind the screen of branches slowly, +for Dolly had hold on Miles's hand and would not +let go; but at last they were settled, side by side, +Dolly next the leaning roof, and Trug close against +Miles. "The leaves tickle my nose," protested +the little girl, "and there are humps in the ground, +and I'm sure that bugs will crawl into my ears." +With a movement that quite disarranged her companions, +she sat up and tied her apron over her +head; then all three lay down once more. "It's—it's +fearsome still," Dolly whispered once, and +then no further words passed between them.</p> + +<p>But, although he was silent, Miles lay long awake; +his body might be weary, but his brain was very +busy with what had befallen him in the last two +days, and with the unknown happenings that were +yet before him. When he forgot the strangeness of +the place and fell asleep at last, he dreamed of berry +patches and ponds full of lilies, and the fine, great +house he meant to build next day.</p> + +<p>Somewhere sounded a bewildering crash, as if a +thousand cartloads of stone were emptied right beside +him. Miles sat up, wondering at the sound,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> +wondering where he was, why his face felt wet, +why Dolly clung sobbing to him. A blinding light +for an instant tore across the sky, and showed the +trees about him twisting in an awesome manner; +then darkness closed in again, and, through it, +deafened the appalling crash of thunder.</p> + +<p>"Don't be frightened, Dolly, don't be frightened," +stammered Miles, clutching his sister; he could +feel Trug, with his whole great body a-tremble, +crowding against his knee, and, through Dolly's terrified +sobs, heard the beast whine.</p> + +<p>A second flash, that seemed to rip the sky, lit up +the black woods, and, upon the roar that followed, +sounded the rush of downpouring rain. As if in +bucketsful, the water broke through the frail little +shelter; the ground beneath the children grew +sodden, and their faces tingled under the smiting of +the raindrops. "Come away, in among the trees," +cried Miles, through the sough of the rain, and +dragged Dolly to her feet.</p> + +<p>"Back to Plymouth, oh, let us go back to Plymouth," +she wailed.</p> + +<p>Without reply, Miles gripped her wrist and +stumbled up the hillside, where he remembered the +thicker growth of trees began. Bushes tore his +clothes and buffeted his dripping face; rain blinded +him; the flash of the lightning dazzled out just +long enough to show how unfriendly trunks beset<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> +him, then flared away and left him, half stunned by +the thunder that followed, to bruise himself against +their harsh bark.</p> + +<p>Still, blinded and beaten and breathless, he fought +his way onward and at his side haled Dolly, dumb +with the bewilderment of the storm. He had forgotten +whither he hoped to go; he knew only that +there was about him a lurid darkness of overpowering +rain and rattling thunder through which he fled +away.</p> + +<p>It had been several moments since the last clap +of thunder, he realized suddenly, and the rain that +yet pattered noisily among the leaves did not beat +upon him with the old fury. When the thunder +growled again, it was from far in the distance, and +the space between the flash and the crash was wider. +"'Tis near over, Dolly," he spoke subduedly.</p> + +<p>The little girl fetched a tremulous, weary sob and +made a movement to drop down on the wet turf, +but Miles held her arm more firmly. "Nay, we +must keep walking till we be dry," he said, in what +he tried to make a brave voice. "Maybe we'll +come on some warm, sheltered spot," he added, for +his poor little companion's comfort.</p> + +<p>Holding each other fast by the hand, and with the +dog close at their heels, they trudged forward into +the black woods. Though lessened in force, the +rain still descended in a steady drizzle, and each<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> +bush against which they brushed drenched them +with an added shower. The ground was so slippery +and thick with mud that Miles began to fear they +had strayed into a swamp, and, when they stumbled +at last upon a thicket of close-growing evergreen, he +thought it safest to shelter there till daylight.</p> + +<p>Crawling in beneath the low branches that half +protected them from the slackening rain, they cuddled +close to the dog and to each other. "I'm glad +I remembered to save my poppet," Dolly sought to +find some comfort. "She'd have been frightened, +had we left her alone."</p> + +<p>So Dolly dropped off to sleep in Miles's arms, +and, lulled by the drip of the rain, he, too, dozed a +time, and awoke very chilly and stiff. The branches +above him stirred in a gusty wind, and in the mottled +sky he could see some faint stars. He crawled out +from the thicket and, as he stood up in the freer air, +caught the smell of brine in the breeze, and saw that, +in the quarter of the heavens whence it came, the +night was paling. "'Tis eastward yonder and the +sea," he cried, delighted to find, for all his wanderings, +he was not hopelessly lost. "Come, Dolly, +we'll walk to the shore."</p> + +<p>Over hills and through thickets they trudged +bravely, in the exhilaration of knowing whither they +were headed, and that the dreadful night was past. +Slowly the darkness was waning; the sky faded from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> +black to gray, and in the wet woods a bird piped +dolefully. Presently a still more welcome sound +reached the ears of the travellers,—a long, mournful +sough as of breaking waters. "It's waves; we're +near the shore," cried Miles, and added a feeble +hurrah, whereat Trug, judging all well, leaped and +barked.</p> + +<p>There was yet a wide stretch of bare uplands to +cross, and the morning had broken in earnest before +the children clambered down the low bluff to the +sandy beach. The tide was out, and the brown +rocks, like dead sea beasts, lay uncovered; but +Miles and Dolly gave them little heed, for just +then, right in their eyes, the sun burst forth in the +east, and made a path of yellow ripples on the water.</p> + +<p>Forgetting her weariness, Dolly almost ran down +the hard sand to the water's edge. "I thought +maybe I could see Plymouth round that point on +our left," she told Miles disappointedly. "We +can walk thither, can we not, along the shore?"</p> + +<p>"We'll eat breakfast first," said Miles, who had +found a great shell upon the sand. "I'll wade out +and dig clams, while you fetch seaweed for the fire."</p> + +<p>He had not yet made up his mind about the return +to the settlement; to be sure, he was very wet +and hungry, but it did not rain every night, and with +the thought of Plymouth came the dreadful vision +of the public flogging. Besides, now it was daylight,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> +it was good to be his own man and get his own +breakfast; so he paddled about bravely, and did +not complain, for all the mud and water were cold +and the clams few, and his back ached with stooping +to dig them. A dozen were enough for two, he +concluded, so when he had that number disposed +securely in his doublet, which he had twisted into a +bag, he splashed shoreward.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 326px;"> +<img src="images/i_233.jpg" width="326" height="500" alt="little girl holding on to her brother, Indian in the distance" /> +<div class="caption">"'Oh, Miles, 'tis the savages come for us!'"</div> +</div> + +<p>Dolly had patiently fetched a mass of slippery +seaweed, and, while he drew on his shoes and stockings, +she arranged stones with the clams on top, and +the seaweed all about them.</p> + +<p>"And now I'll light the fire," Miles said soberly, +as he rose up and stamped his feet in his wet shoes. +Taking a smooth stone, he knelt over the seaweed, +and, striking the stone with his whittle, sought to +get a spark. But it seemed not a proper flint, for +though he struck and struck, no spark came, and +Dolly, cold and hungry, grew impatient, whereat +Miles rebuked her sternly: "'Tis like a girl. I'm +doing the best I can. Hush, will you, Dolly?"</p> + +<p>Then he forgot his petty wrangling, for, at a +growl from Trug, he looked to the bluff, and there, +between him and the safe inland forest, he saw a +little group of people coming toward him. The +look on his face made Dolly, who knelt opposite +him, glance back over her shoulder. "Oh, Miles," +she gasped, "'tis the savages come for us!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span></p> + +<p>Miles stood up and held Dolly close to him with +one arm, while he grasped Trug's collar with the +other hand. "They're all friendly, Dolly, all +friendly," he repeated, and wondered that his voice +was so dry and faint.</p> + +<p>A little up the sand the Indians stopped; several +who kept to the rear were squaws, with hoes of +clam-shell and baskets, but at the front were two +warriors, who now came noiselessly down the beach. +"Quiet, Trug," Miles said, stoutly as he could, +and, as the savages drew near, greeted them boldly +with the Indian salutation he had learnt of Squanto: +"Cowompaum sin; good morrow to you."</p> + +<p>They halted close to him, though evidently a +bit uncertain as to the snarling Trug; they spoke, +but he could make out no word of their rapid +utterance. "I'm a friend," he repeated, hopeless of +getting any good of his little store of Indian words, +almost too alarmed even to recall them. "I come +from Plymouth,—" he pointed up the shore where +the settlement lay,—"and I want to go back thither."</p> + +<p>He made a movement as if to start up the shore, +when one of the Indians laid a hand on his arm and +pointed southward. Miles shook his head, while +dumb terror griped his heart; these were none of +King Massasoit's friendly Indians, but people from +the Cape, such as had fought the Englishmen in the +winter. "Let me go home," he repeated unsteadily.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span></p> + +<p>But without heeding him one loosed his arm from +about Dolly's waist. Thereat Trug, with his hair +a-bristle, gathered himself to spring, and the other +warrior gripped the club he carried in his hand. +"You shan't kill my dog!" screamed Miles, seizing +Trug's collar to hold him back; and at that the +savage, taking Dolly from beside him, lifted her in +his arms.</p> + +<p>The other Indian would have picked up Miles, +but he dodged his hand, and, dragging Trug with +him, ran up alongside the warrior who held Dolly. +The little girl lay perfectly quiet, her eyes round +with terror, and her lips trembling. "Don't be +afraid, Dolly," quavered Miles, in what he tried to +make a stout voice, "no matter where they take us. +They shan't hurt you; Trug and I won't let them +hurt you."</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XVI<br /> + +<small>THE HOUSE OF BONDAGE</small></h2> + + +<div class='drop-cap'>IT does not become an Englishman to make a +weak showing before unclad savages; so presently +Miles swallowed the sob that was fighting +a way up his throat, mastered the other shaky signs +of his terror, and put his whole attention to keeping +pace with his captors. They were now well in +among the trees, where the undergrowth, after the +Indian custom, had been thinned by fire, so between +the great blackened trunks opened wide vistas, as in +an English park.</div> + +<p>To Miles each open glade looked like every +other one, but the Indians found amid the trees a +distinct trail along which they hastened, single file, +with the tall warrior who bore Dolly in the lead. +Miles kept persistently at his heels, though the +breath was short in his throat, and his whole body +reeked with perspiration. The sun, all unobscured +and yellow, was climbing steadily upward, and, by +the fact that it shone on the left hand, he knew that +they were going southward ever, southward into the +hostile country.</p> + +<p>About mid-morning they descended a sandy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> +slope, where pine trees grew, to a brook with a +white bottom. Miles gathered his strength, and, +making a little spurt ahead, flung himself down by +the stream to drink; he felt cooler for the draught, +but, when he dragged himself to his feet, he found +that, after his little rest, his tired legs ached the +more unbearably, so he made no objection when the +Indian with the club, lifting him unceremoniously +to his back, carried him dry-shod through the brook.</p> + +<p>Even on the other side, Miles made no struggle +to get down; it would be useless, he judged, and +then he was too worn out to tramp farther at such +speed. He settled himself comfortably against his +bearer's naked shoulders, and offered not half so +much protest as Trug, who, trotting at the Indian's +side, now and again looked to his master and whined +anxiously.</p> + +<p>As soon as he was a bit rested, Miles began to +take closer note of the country through which they +were passing,—a country of spicy pine thickets +and of white dust, that powdered beneath the feet +of the Indians. From his lofty perch he could pluck +tufts of glossy pine needles as they brushed under +the lower branches of the trees, and, hungry as he +was, he did not find them ill to chew. Presently +he tried to converse with his Indian. "Tonokete +naum?" he questioned. "Whither go you?"</p> + +<p>The savage answered in a pithy phrase, of which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> +Miles made out only the word Ma-no-met. That, +he had a vague remembrance of hearing the men say, +was a place somewhere to the southward; but, at +least, it was not Nauset, where the Indians who had +fought the English lived. In quite a cheerful tone, +Miles called out to Dolly their destination, and, +with something of his former confidence, set himself +to watch for the town; he could not help imagining +it would be a row of log cabins in a clearing, +just like Plymouth.</p> + +<p>But, for what to him seemed long hours, he saw +no sign of a house, just the monotonous sheen of +the pine trees where the sun struck upon them, +and the dust that burst whitely through its sprinkling +of pine needles. Now and again, through the +branches, he caught the glimmer of sunny water, +where some little pond lay; and once, when the +trail led down into a hollow, sand gave place to +the clogging mire of a bog, and the scrub pines +yielded to cedars.</p> + +<p>The slope beyond, with its pines thickening in +again, was like all the rest of the wood, so like that +Miles had suffered his eyes to close against the +weary glare and the hot dust, when a sudden note +of shrill calling made him fling up his head. They +were just breasting the ridge that had been before +them, and the trees, dwindling down, gave a sight +of what lay at the farther side.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span></p> + +<p>Unbroken sunlight, Miles was first aware of,—sunlight +dazzling from the hot sky, beating upward +from blue water, glaring on green pines that spread +away beyond; and then, as the dissonant calls that +made his whole body quiver drew his eyes to the +right, he saw in the stretch of meadow-land between +the creek and the ridge a squalid group of unkempt +bark wigwams. The smoke that curled upward +from their cone-like summits seemed to waver in +the heat, and for an instant Miles blinked stupidly +at the smoke, because he dared not look lower +where he must see the varied company of coppery +people who were flocking noisily forth from their +shelters.</p> + +<p>Of a sudden, as if starting from a bad dream, he +writhed out of his captor's hold and dropped to his +feet in the sand. The Indian's grasp tightened +instantly on his arm; but in any case, whatever +they meant to do to him, even to kill him, it was +better to walk into Manomet than to be carried +thither like a little child. Where there might be +other lads, too, it went through Miles's head, even +in the midst of his sick fear.</p> + +<p>Other boys there were, certainly, squaws and +warriors too, all thronging jabbering round him, so +that, with a poor hope that he at least might prove +friendly, Miles clung tight to the hand of the Indian +who had carried him. Wolfish yelp of dogs, shrill,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> +frightened cries of children, clatter of the curious +squaws,—all deafened and bewildered him. Close +about him he beheld crowding figures,—bare bodies +that gleamed in the sunlight, swarthy, grim faces, +eyes alert with curiosity,—and, overarching them +all, the hot, blue sky that blinded him.</p> + +<p>Along with their Indian masters ran dogs, prick-eared, +fox-like curs, one of which suddenly darted +upon Trug. Above the chatter of the curious folk +Miles heard the currish yelp, the answering snarl; +but ere he could cry out or move, the old civilized +mastiff caught the savage cur by the scruff, and, +shaking the life out of his mangy body, flung him +on the sand.</p> + +<p>Miles let go the Indian's hand, and cast himself +upon his dog, while his mind rushed back to +a dreadful day in England, when Trug had slain a +farmer's tike, whose owner had threatened to brain +"the curst brute"; people did not like to have your +dog kill their dog, Miles remembered with terror; +so, catching Trug by the collar, he buffeted his head, +a punishment which the old fellow, with his tushes +still gleaming, endured meekly.</p> + +<p>The Indians, who had been pressing round him, +had shrunk back a little, Miles perceived, as he +paused for breath; they could not be used to big +mastiffs. "The dog will not worry you," he addressed +the company in a propitiating voice. "That<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> +is, he won't worry you unless you harm Dolly and +me."</p> + +<p>They could not understand his words, he realized, +but they could understand gestures, so with a bold +front he gripped Trug's collar, and urged the old +dog, still grumbling, along with him. He walked +bravely too, with his chin high and his neck stiff, for +all there was a fluttering sensation up and down his +legs. He was not afraid, he assured himself, while +he pressed his hand upon Trug's warm neck for +comfort, and fixed his eyes on the tall warrior striding +before him who still bore Dolly.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Miles perceived the press about him to +give way a little, and out from amidst the people an +old man came gravely toward him. He was a tall +old man, with a wrinkly face, and his dress was +squalid and scanty as that of the others, but by the +many beads of white bone that hung on his bare +breast, Miles judged him to be the chief of Manomet, +Canacum. So he made his most civil bow, though +he could not keep his knees from trembling a bit; +but he looked up courageously into the old Indian's +face, and, as he did not speak first, at length politely +bade him "Cowompaum sin."</p> + +<p>He could not understand—indeed, apprehensive +as he was, he scarcely had the wit to try to +understand—what was said to him in reply, but +he knew the old man took him by the hand, so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> +in tremulous obedience he went whither he was +led.</p> + +<p>The blue sky was all blurred out, as he passed +through the opening of one of the black wigwams; +an intolerable smoky odor half choked him; and his +eyes were blinded with the dimness all about him. +But out of the dusk he heard Dolly call his name, +and, stumbling toward the sound, he put his arms +about his sister.</p> + +<p>As he grew more accustomed to the dim light, +he saw the old Chief, squatting on a mat at the +back of the wigwam, and saw the shadowy gesture +that bade him sit beside him. Almost cheerfully, +since he held Dolly's hand in his, Miles obeyed; +and for the moment, as Trug stretched himself at +his feet, and Dolly snuggled close to his side, felt +secure and whispered his sister not to fear.</p> + +<p>There was no time to say more, for, amidst the +confusion of folk that crowded the dusky wigwam, +he now made out two squaws, who drew near, and, +with their curious eyes fixed on him, set before him +food—a kind of bread of the pounded maize and +ears of young corn roasted.</p> + +<p>It did not need the Chief's gesture to bid Miles +fall to; he might be more than a little frightened, +but he was also very hungry, for it was near eight-and-forty +hours since he had tasted heartier food +than raspberries. He now ate with such good will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> +that nothing was left of the victuals but the corn-cobs, +and he persuaded Dolly to eat too, though it +was hard work to coax the child to lift her head from +his shoulder. "I do not like to look on the Indians," +she murmured tearfully, between two hungry +mouthfuls of corn. "I would they did not so stare +at us."</p> + +<p>They were not over-civil, Miles thought, though, +after all, they scarcely stared at their white guests +more rudely than Miles himself had gazed at Massasoit, +when the latter visited Plymouth. He might +not have minded their staring, if there had not been +so many of them,—squatting and lying all through +the wigwam, on the floor, or on the mats, or on a +broad, shelf-like couch which ran all about the +lodge,—and if the bolder ones had not been curious +to feel of his shirt,—his doublet was left behind +on the beach where he had taken the clams,—and +of his shoes, and of Dolly's gown, though no +one cared to put a hand upon the bristling and +growling Trug.</p> + +<p>They chattered a wearisome deal too, till Miles's +head ached with the clamor, the squaws very shrilly, +and the men in guttural tones; the old Chief seemed +to be questioning the Indians who had found the +children on the beach, but presently he turned and +addressed Miles.</p> + +<p>The boy fixed his eyes on the speaker's face and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> +tried to understand, but, while all things about him +were so strange and ominous, it was hard to keep +his thoughts on the hasty sounds. He did make +out that the Chief asked him whence he came, and, +answering "Patuxet," he pointed whither he judged +the Plymouth plantation lay. "I should like to go +back thither," he suggested, and endeavored, with +signs and his few poor words of the Indian language, +to explain that, if they took Dolly to the +settlement, the people would give them knives and +beads. He started to make the same arrangement +for himself, but he judged it useless; he doubted if +Master Hopkins would think him worth buying +back.</p> + +<p>But, even in Dolly's case, no one made a movement +to grant Miles's request, and though the old +Chief spoke, for an Indian, at some length and in a +civil tone, he did not mention Patuxet nor a return +thither. Miles swallowed down a lump in his throat, +and said bravely to Dolly that he guessed they'd +have to spend the night with the savages, but they +seemed kindly intentioned.</p> + +<p>Through the low opening that formed the door +of the wigwam he could see now that a long, gray +shadow from the pine ridge lay upon the trodden +sand; the afternoon must be wearing to a close. +Moment by moment he watched the shadow stretch +itself out, till all was shadow and a thicker dimness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> +filled the wigwam, and on the bit of sky, which +he could see through the smoke-hole in the roof, +brooded a purplish shade. It was evening in +earnest, and it should be supper time, Miles told +Dolly; but Dolly, resting half-asleep against his +arm, made no answer.</p> + +<p>Miles himself, for all his apprehensions, was +heavy with the weariness of the last two days, so, +whatever the morrow might have in store, he was +glad when, one by one, the Indians slipped away +like shadows, and he judged it bedtime. He and +his sister were to sleep on the couch-like structure +by the wall, he interpreted the Chief's gestures, so +willingly he bade Dolly and Trug lie down; then +stretched himself beside them. A comfortable resting +place it was, very springy and soft with skins; +but, ere Miles could reassure Dolly and settle himself +for the night, Trug began to growl, and the +great couch to groan, as what seemed an endless +family of Indians cast themselves down alongside +them.</p> + +<p>"I—I wish I were home in my own bed," +Dolly protested, with a stifled sob.</p> + +<p>Miles hushed her, in some alarm lest the savages +might not approve of people who cried; but his +Indian bedfellows never heeded Dolly's tears, for +they were lulling themselves to sleep by singing in +a high, monotonous strain that drowned every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> +other noise. After the little girl was quieted, they +still droned on, and, when they were at last silent, +there sounded the notes of swarms of mosquitoes +that tortured Miles, for all he was so tired, into +semi-wakefulness.</p> + +<p>A snatch of feverish slumber once and again, +and then, of a sudden, he was aware of the round +moon peering in at him through the smoke-hole. +That same light would now be whitening the quiet +fields of Plymouth, and slipping through the little +windows across the clean floor of Master Hopkins's +living room; Miles remembered just how the patch +of light rested on the wall of his own chamber.</p> + +<p>He sat up on his comfortless bed and hid his +face against his knee. "I wish I hadn't run away; +I wish I were home—were home," he groaned aloud. +But, save for the heavy snoring of the Chief of +Manomet and his warriors, he got no answer.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XVII<br /> + +<small>HOW THEY KEPT THE SABBATH</small></h2> + + +<div class='drop-cap'>A LITTLE daylight works a mighty change +in the look of things. When in the morning +Miles rose at length from the stupor of +sleep into which he had fallen, the sky was clouded +filmily to westward, but in the east, above the pines, +hung a yellow sun. The river that curved through +the meadow was half bright with the stroke of the +sun, and, where the trees of the opposite bank grew +low, half a lucid green; the strip of sandy beach +shone white, and the coarse herbage of the level +space all was gleaming.</div> + +<p>Miles looked forth from the doorway of Chief +Canacum's wigwam, and, sniffing the breeze with the +tang of brine in it, decided that, after all, Manomet +might prove a pleasant place in which to spend a +day. He said as much to Dolly, but she held her +poppet closer and shook her head. "There were +fleas in that bed," she answered sorrowfully. "Let's +go home now, Miles."</p> + +<p>An easy thing to say, but to do it would have +puzzled an older head than Miles's, for not only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> +did leagues of forest stretch between him and the +English settlement, but, even had he known the +direct road to Plymouth, there was no chance to +follow it, since, wherever he turned, the watchful +eyes of the savages were upon him.</p> + +<p>Now the first novelty had worn off, the warriors +limited themselves to staring at their visitors as they +sauntered through the camp, but the squaws and +children still wished to press close, and feel their +clothes and touch their hands. However, no one +meant to harm him, Miles decided, though he only +half realized how awe of their white faces and strange +garments and of their great, ugly dog was protecting +him and his sister; and, having once concluded +he was to be left unhurt, he took pleasure in being +a centre of interest; it was his first experience of +this sort in all his much-snubbed life.</p> + +<p>So, though Dolly would scarce look on the dark +people about them, Miles sought presently to talk +to them, just as he tried to talk to the Indians who +came to Plymouth. So well did he impress it upon +them that he wanted his breakfast, that one of the +squaws, who had bright eyes, though her face was +very dirty, led the children into her wigwam, where +she brought them food,—roasted crab fish and +bread. Miles thanked her and ate, and bade Trug +and Dolly eat too, while the little Indians and the +squaws, squatting in the sand about the wigwam<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> +door, watched as if they had never before seen two +hungry children.</p> + +<p>Presently, as he wished to divide a morsel with +Dolly, Miles drew out his whittle, whereat the onlookers +crowded closer to gaze. Miles showed them +his knife, though he took care not to let it go out +of his hands, and he exhibited the other treasures +he carried in his breeches pockets,—several nails, +a button or two, some beads, and an English farthing +piece. Indians always looked for presents, he +knew, so, before he went out of the wigwam, he gave +a button to the squaw who had fed him.</p> + +<p>With his Indian followers eying him the more +admiringly, he now went journeying through the +warm sand, past the dingy bark houses, to the farther +verge of the camp, where, beyond a lusty patch +of rank weeds, the corn-field of the savages shimmered +in the heat. The tillage of the Indians +seemed to him of an untidy sort; they had cleared +away the trees with fire, never troubling to dig up +the roots, so blackened stumps dotted the field, and +here and there lay the greater bulk of a charred and +fallen trunk. In between, the green corn straggled +up, and several squaws were tending it with hoes +made of great clam-shells. They cast aside their +tools to stare on Miles and Dolly, but Miles stared +in return only a short space; he had seen corn-fields +before.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Only to think, Dolly," he burst out, as he +turned his back on the hoers, "there's no one to +bid me weed or fetch water or aught else that displeases +me. After all, 'tis a merry life the Indians +lead; I'm willing to dwell here with them."</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> do not wish to be a dirty Indian," Dolly answered +decidedly, but in a whisper, as if she thought +these attentive people must be able to understand +her words. "Do you not think the men from +Plymouth will come to seek us soon and take us +home?"</p> + +<p>"I do not want them to come," Miles replied +calmly. "Maybe they would hang me for that +Ned fought in the duel, and surely they would beat +me for running away. I shall have to stay here +always," he added cheerfully.</p> + +<p>At this Dolly's lips quivered, but Miles, intent +now on an Indian lad with a little bow in his hand, +who had just come near, gave his sister no heed. +"I'm minded to ask that boy to let me play with +his bow," he spoke out, as they arrived once more +within the lee of Chief Canacum's wigwam. "You +sit here, and Trug shall watch you."</p> + +<p>A protest or two from Dolly, after the unreasonable +fashion of women-folk, but Miles, leaving her +seated on the sand, walked away to the coppery lad +he had singled out. For a time the two boys stared +at each other gravely, then Miles, smiling affably,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> +touched the bow, saying, "Cossaquot? Nenmia," +till presently the other yielded it into his hands.</p> + +<p>Then they strolled away, with several other beady-eyed +youngsters, into the weeds on the outskirts of +the camp, where Miles tried his skill at shooting. +Though in England he had often handled a bow, +here the best showing he could make set the little +Indians laughing; and when the owner of the bow, +taking it from him, shot an arrow and fetched down +a pine cone from a tree many feet distant, Miles understood +their merriment at his awkwardness.</p> + +<p>But then he stepped up to a young sumach, and, +pulling out his whittle, hacked off a small branch in +a manner to make his new friends marvel; so, each +party respectful of the other's arts, they were speedily +on a sound enough footing to race away together +to the river bank.</p> + +<p>On the shore, half in water and half on land, lay +three Indian boats, light, tricky things, all built of +birch bark. Miles had never seen such craft, so he +set to examining them, but his new comrades splashed +into the water. On the sunny beach it was hot, but +across the stream, whither they swam, the trees that +pressed close to the margin darkened the shallows +with a deep green, so cool and tempting that Miles, +dusty with travel, longed to bathe in it too.</p> + +<p>In the end he flung off his clothes, and prepared +to join in the splashing, when his Indian acquaintances<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> +paddled shoreward to study his garments. +Miles suffered the youngster who had lent him the +bow to try on his shoes, whereat all grew so clamorous +he feared a little lest his wardrobe disappear +among them, for he remembered how Thievish Harbor +took its first name from the pilfering habits of +the Indians. Fortunately Trug, forsaking Dolly, +arrived just then, and when he stretched his great +bulk on his master's clothes, none cared to disturb +them.</p> + +<p>With his mind set at rest, Miles plunged into the +tepid water, where he frolicked about with his new +comrades, who swam like dogs, paw over paw, and +dived in a way that bewildered him. But speedily +he was doing his share in the ducking and splashing +and whooping, till, before he knew it, the afternoon +was half spent, and his shoulders smarted with the +burning of the sun.</p> + +<p>The little Indians followed him, when he spattered +out of the river, and, with no more than a +shaking of their ears, like puppies, were ready to run +about, but Miles, as a penalty of civilization, had to +stay to drag on his clothes. He felt chilly now, he +found, and hungry too, and he guessed he and Trug +were best go seek Dolly.</p> + +<p>But when he came into the lee of Chief Canacum's +wigwam, he saw there just scuffled, empty sand, so, +with a big fright laying hold on him, he ran out into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> +the straggling street and called his sister's name +aloud. Just then Trug's bark told him all was +well, and, hastening after the dog, he found, in the +shade of a distant wigwam, a squaw weaving a mat +of flags, some children sprawling, and Dolly herself, +who was eating raspberries from a birch bark basket. +"Why did you run away and frighten me?" Miles +demanded crossly, as he flung himself on the ground +beside her.</p> + +<p>"I may go away and make friends as well as +thou," Dolly answered loftily. "But you shall +have some of my berries, Miles. They fetched me +them, and I can eat these—" her voice sank—"because +they must be clean. But their other victuals +are not, I know. I watched, and the women do +never wash their kettles."</p> + +<p>Miles had no such scruples of cleanliness, so +when, some two hours later, he scented the odor +of cooking, he rose eagerly and, thinking on supper, +sought Canacum's wigwam. There were four +dark boats upon the white beach now, he saw, so +he judged that a fishing party had come in.</p> + +<p>When he passed through the low door into the +wigwam, he found a fire alight and a great pot of +clay hung on small sticks that were laid over it. +Into the pot the drudging squaws were putting fresh +fish, and acorns, and the meat of squirrels, and +kernels of corn, and whatever else they had of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> +edibles,—"a loathsome mash," Dolly whispered +Miles, but he was so hungry that it did not take +away his appetite.</p> + +<p>So soon as the broth was done, near half the village +squatted round the pot, the men in an inner +circle, while on the outskirts, eager for any morsel +their masters might fling to them, waited the poor +squaws. But Dolly, because she was a little white +squaw, was suffered to sit down with her brother beside +the old Chief, who scooped up pieces of the fish +and hot broth in a wooden bowl and gave it to Miles.</p> + +<p>Dolly looked askance at the food, but Miles and +Trug ate ravenously; neither his queer table mates +nor their queer table manners troubled the boy, +since he himself was licking his fingers and wiping +them on Trug's fur contentedly. "I like to eat +with my fingers," he chattered to his venerable +host. "At home they make me to eat tidily with +a napkin, but I like it better thus."</p> + +<p>But, even at his hungriest, he could not match +the Indians in trencher work; for, long after Miles +had done eating and lain back against Trug, the +savages still champed on, till nothing but scattered +bones was left of the fare. By then the sun was +quite down, so the lodge was black, save for the +flashes of the sinking fire. Out-of-doors an owl +hooted, and speedily the Indian guests withdrew to +their own lodges, and the Chief's household went<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> +to their common bed. Little comfort did Miles +and his two companions find there, for the singing +Indians and the mosquitoes pestered them as on +the preceding night.</p> + +<p>"I'll not endure this a third time," Miles fretted, +when he awoke in the chilly morning. "Look +you, Dolly, why should I not build us a little wigwam? +I make no doubt they'll suffer us go sleep +there by ourselves."</p> + +<p>Full of this new plan, he bustled forth from the +wigwam, but outside the doorway halted in surprise. +He could see no river nor more than the tips of the +pines for a thick white fog that drifted through +the village and struck rawly to his very marrow. +For a moment he had a mind to slip back to +Dolly in the close wigwam, but, spying his Indian +allies, he kept to his first manly resolve and began +chatting to them of his intentions. Though they +could understand nothing of his talk, they came with +him readily, through the clammy fog, out beyond +the camp, where the sand, sloping up to the pine +ridge, offered, as Miles remembered, a good location +for a wigwam.</p> + +<p>The Indian houses, so far as he could judge, were +built by bending over young saplings and securing +both ends in the ground, then covering the frame +with mats or great pieces of bark. Miles decided +that poles, bound together at the top, would serve<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> +him as well, so he went to cut them in a growth of +young oaks at some distance from the camp. The +trees, all laden with fog moisture, drenched him as +he worked, and the task took him a long time with +his small whittle,—would have taken him longer, +had not the Indian boys helped him to break the +poles.</p> + +<p>They were all intent on his proceedings, and, +when he returned to the site he had chosen, settled +themselves in the sand to watch him, an action +which pleased him little. For, when he stuck his +poles into the sand, at the circumference of a rough +circle, and bent them all together at the top, the +ends that were thrust into the sand would fly up, +and 'twas annoying to have other people see his +failure. It took him some minutes to make all +secure, and by then he was so breathless and tired +that he was glad to run tell Dolly of his progress, +and, at the same time, rest a bit.</p> + +<p>Spite of the fog, he found his sister had come out +from the choking atmosphere of the wigwam. She +was sitting a little up the pine ridge, behind the +lodges, on a fallen tree trunk that was all a-drip; +the sand, too, Miles noted, when he lay down at her +feet, was damp and sticky to the touch.</p> + +<p>"They have left us alone, haven't they, Dolly?" +he said in some surprise, as he glanced about him +and saw no Indians near. "But Trug, he has not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> +followed; very like they think we'll not run away +and leave him behind." Then he perceived that +his sister's arms were empty. "Where's the old +red poppet?" he cried.</p> + +<p>"My poppet Priscilla," Dolly replied seriously. +"I did put her away carefully. For 'tis the Sabbath +to-day, Miles."</p> + +<p>"Is it?" the boy questioned, with some misgivings. +"I'd lost count of the days. Why, I have +been cutting poles and begun my wigwam—"</p> + +<p>"Then you are a Sabbath-breaker," Dolly said +relentlessly. "If you be so wicked, I doubt if ever +God let us go back to Plymouth. And I've been +praying Him earnestly. Miles, have you said your +prayers o' nights?"</p> + +<p>"N—no," the boy faltered, "last night I forgot +'em, and night before I was weary."</p> + +<p>"Come, we'll say them now," Dolly announced, +and fell on her knees in the wet sand.</p> + +<p>Miles obediently knelt beside her; his father +had looked somewhat askance at this practice, but +Miles's mother had first taught the children to say +their evening prayer on their knees, and, for her +sake, the boy held obstinately to that usage.</p> + +<p>The thought of her came clearly to him now, and +how she had bidden him be good to Dolly, so, when +he had prayed "Our Father," he added an extemporaneous +appeal, that the English folk might soon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> +come in search of them. "Not for my sake, O +Lord," he explained carefully, "but Thou knowest +Dolly is but a wench and were better at Plymouth, +perhaps. And, O Lord, I'd near be willing to go +thither myself, if Thou wouldst put it in their +minds not to flog me."</p> + +<p>Indeed, as he prayed, his heart grew very tender +toward the tiny settlement; he would have liked +well to open his eyes and see the sandy street of +the little village stretching away up the hillside, the +ordered cottages, the grave men about their tasks, +even Master Hopkins—perhaps.</p> + +<p>Rather subdued, he set himself by Dolly on the +wet log. "Now I'll tell you somewhat out of the +Bible, since there is no one to preach us a discourse," +he said, and set forth to her what he remembered +of the last portion of the Scriptures +which Master Hopkins had made him read. It +was all about how Moses let loose the plagues upon +the wicked king of Egypt, flies and boils and frogs,—Miles +was not quite sure of the order of events, +but he detailed them with much gusto.</p> + +<p>"I do not think there is a great deal of doctrine +therein," Dolly commented, with a mournful shake +of the head. "Elder Brewster, he did not discourse +thus; and Mistress Brewster and Priscilla and the +boys will have bread for dinner to-day, and maybe +butter, and lobster, and, if I were home, I should<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> +sleep in my own bed with Priscilla, and put on a +clean gown in the morning. I wish I were home +now."</p> + +<p>Miles squeezed Dolly's fingers, and sat staring +away from her into the fleecy fog that still shivered +through the camp. So intent was he on gulping +down his home-sickness that he started in surprise +when a hand was laid on his shoulder, and he looked +up into the face of one of Canacum's warriors.</p> + +<p>He was to come to the Chief's wigwam, he interpreted +the Indian's signs, so he rose and, leading +Dolly, followed his guide down the sandy slope. +"Maybe 'tis that they have meetings too on the +Sabbath," Dolly whispered him.</p> + +<p>Inside the lodge, where a fire smoked, many +warriors were gathered, true enough, but no one +preached to them. Instead all puffed at their +pipes and, with long pauses, spoke together, till +Miles, sitting with Dolly by the Chief, grew weary. +Understanding nothing of their talk, he thought on +his new wigwam and scarcely heeded them, till a +warrior, whom he had a vague idea he had not seen +before about the camp, rose up and, coming to him, +lifted him to his feet.</p> + +<p>"What will you do?" Miles cried, with a quick +pang of fright as he found his arm fast in the other's +grip. "Are we to go with you?" And then, with +a sudden, overwhelming hope, "To Patuxet?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nauset," grunted the imperturbable Chief.</p> + +<p>"They set upon the English there!" gasped +Miles. "I will not go, I will not!"</p> + +<p>After that, all passed so quickly he remembered +nothing clearly, just the confusion of bronzed figures +in the smoky lodge, the choking odor of the +fire, the sight of Dolly's blanched face, as one of +the Indians drew her back from him. He had a +scattered remembrance of crying out that they +should not dare take his sister from him, Captain +Standish would punish them for it; and then of +a helpless, childish struggle, wherein he kicked +and struck unavailingly at the savage who held +him.</p> + +<p>The chill fog stung against his face, as he was +dragged forth from the wigwam. He seemed to +come to his senses again, and, ceasing to struggle, +called over his shoulder to Dolly not to be afraid, +no one would dare hurt her. Something pressed +feebly against his knees, and he looked down at +Trug, with a broken thong hanging at his neck +and his head bleeding. He caught the old dog by +the collar. "Go in unto Dolly, sirrah," he bade +in his sternest voice. "And guard her, guard +her!"</p> + +<p>He had a last glimpse of his sister, crouching in +the door of the wigwam, with her arms clasped +close about the mastiff's neck and her frightened<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> +eyes fixed on him. Then the grasp on his wrist +tightened, and stumblingly he followed along with +his new captors, past the dripping wigwams with +their staring people, past his own unfinished lodge, +and into the chill silence of the moist woods.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII<br /> + +<small>AT NAUSET VILLAGE</small></h2> + + +<div class='drop-cap'>EASTWARD of Nauset, unchecked by headlands, +as was Plymouth Harbor, but sweeping +away into the very sky line, lay the +ocean. The tide was now rolling in; far out at sea +the water all was ridged, and, as the waves pressed +shoreward, their crests, heaving up, burst into white +foam. With each inward swell the water crept +nearer, till now it reached the bare rock where Miles +Rigdale, his knees level with his chin and his arms +cast round them, was perched.</div> + +<p>Overhead, Miles knew the sky was bright, and +the dazzle of the water was ever present to his eyes. +He strove to think on naught but the barren glare +before him, yet beneath, in his heart, he was conscious +all the time of an aching weight of misery +and sick fear. For this was Nauset; he had but to +turn his head, and, far up the sandy beach, where +the storm-swept pines began, he could see the +cluster of wigwams, and, nearer, squatting upon the +shore, the stolid Indian folk who had dogged him +thither.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span></p> + +<p>Only that morning he had reached Nauset. +There had been more than four and twenty hours +of journeying, through unknown villages, and by +sea in a frail bark canoe, the pitching of which, +under the stroke of the waves, had frightened him +sorely. All, indeed, had been fright and confusion +and the wearying effort to hide his terror. For the +Indians of Manomet doubtless would beat Trug +over the head again till he was dead, and they would +send Dolly far away, as they had sent him, perhaps +do worse. Miles buried his face against his knees, +and bit his lips hard.</p> + +<p>Of a sudden, he was lifted bodily from the rock +where he sat. The white water eddied all round it, +he noted, and the warrior who held him had stepped +through it to fetch him ashore. For a moment +after he was set upon his feet, he stood staring out +upon the dazzling sea, then turned and passed +slowly up the sand, through a patch of sparse beach +grass, to the village.</p> + +<p>Slowly though he loitered, he came at last to the +sunny cluster of wigwams; in their scant shadow the +men—the warriors of Nauset, and those who had +fetched Miles hither—lay smoking, and, liking +their surly looks little, he stepped presently into the +Chief's great wigwam, where the squaws were cooking.</p> + +<p>He was hungry, for he had not eaten since last +evening, so he stood waiting and watching the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> +women, though he no longer sought to talk to +them. For they did not show a friendly curiosity, +such as the squaws at Manomet had shown, but +rather scowled upon him, as if they already knew +enough of white folk. It was from this place that +the trader Hunt, who stole Squanto, had kidnapped +seven Indians, and it was here—Miles remembered +only too clearly every scrap of his elders' +tales—that only the last summer, in revenge for +Hunt's dealings, three Englishmen trading thither +had been slain.</p> + +<p>So the heart within him was heavy indeed, when +at length he set himself down amongst the warriors +at the noon meal. His place was next the chief of +the village, whom men called Aspinet, just as it +had been at every village where he had sat to eat, +but this chieftain was not friendly, as the others +had seemed. What few gutturals he uttered were +directed to his warriors, not to Miles, nor did he +offer to give the boy food.</p> + +<p>Of necessity, Miles imitated the others by thrusting +his hands into the kettle and laying hold on the +great claw of a lobster; it was so hot it burned his +fingers sharply, but, mindful that he was watched, +he held it fast till he could lay it on the trampled +sand at his side. His fingers smarted, and he +dared not raise his eyes from the lobster, lest the +tears of pain that were gathering in them be seen.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> +Fumblingly he drew forth his whittle and was making +a clumsy effort to dig the meat from the shell, +when a dusky hand suddenly closed on his wrist, +and the whittle was wrenched from his grasp.</p> + +<p>For one nightmare-like instant the world seemed +struck from under him; then Miles was aware of +the reality of the smoky walls of the wigwam and +of those grim-faced savages who sat round him. +He stood up slowly, with his knees a-tremble, but +he thrust out his hand bravely, and, in a stout voice, +spoke to Chief Aspinet: "That whittle is mine. +Give it back to me."</p> + +<p>A moment he stood fronting the Chief and his +warriors, then, with a sudden feeling that for sheer +alarm he would presently burst out crying, he turned +and walked slowly from the circle of the feasters. +"I shall not eat of your food nor come into your +house till you give back my whittle," he flung over +his shoulder in a quavering voice.</p> + +<p>With that he passed out at the doorway and set +himself down cross-legged in the deep sand in the +lee of the wigwam. The sun of early afternoon +poured scorchingly upon him, and the sand, as he +sifted it between his fingers, was warm. Out above +the ocean he could see a great white gull that flashed +in the strong light.</p> + +<p>A little shadow from the wigwam fell upon him, +and bit by bit broadened, while he stupidly watched<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> +the strip of dark advance across the white sand. It +must be mid-afternoon, he reasoned out, when the +warriors, crammed with food, sauntered from the +wigwam, and several came leisurely to squat in +the shade close by him.</p> + +<p>Among them was Aspinet himself, Miles's whittle +thrust defiantly in his leathern girdle, and the sight +of that braced the boy's resolution in soldierly fashion; +he must not seem afraid or willing to bear an +affront from a savage, he knew. So, with a steady +face, he addressed the Chief again, seeking this time +to find the Indian words: "When your people come +to us at Patuxet we do not rob them. And you +were best not rob me, else Captain Standish will +burn your wigwams."</p> + +<p>For an instant the Chief puffed slowly at his +tobacco pipe, and impassively eyed Miles's face; +then he spoke, with some broken words of English +and his native words so slowly uttered that Miles +could half comprehend the import of his speech: +"We do not fear the coat-men. Thus did we to +them. There was a ship broken by a storm. They +saved most of their goods and hid it in the ground. +We made them tell us where it was. Then we +made them our servants. They wept much when +we parted them. We gave them such meat as our +dogs eat. We took away their clothes. They lived +but a little while."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span></p> + +<p>Miles's eyes were wide and his lips parted with +frank horror; only for a moment, then he recalled +the hint of such a happening that had drifted to +Plymouth, and the very reiteration of the story +made it a little less shocking. "That was a French +ship, and they are a different race from us," he said +slowly. "An Englishman would not 'a' wept for +you. And <i>I</i> shall not." He drove his hands hard +into the sand and blinked fast; the rough dirt hurt +his burnt fingers, and he did not doubt the English +folk, even the Captain, were so glad to be rid of +him that they would leave him there forever, to +the mercies of Chief Aspinet.</p> + +<p>Squalid though the Indian wigwams were, he was +faintly glad when the shadows had so lengthened +on the land and so darkened the sky and sea that +it was time to go to rest, for at least the blackness +would screen his face from the peering eyes of his +captors. It was to Aspinet's wigwam they led him, +but the courage to refuse the Chief's dubious hospitality +no longer endured in Miles; he would forgive +their taking his knife, if they did not use him +as they had used the luckless French sailors.</p> + +<p>Obediently he snuggled down in one corner of +the bed that ran round the wigwam, crowded and +comfortless as was his bed at Manomet, but here +neither Trug nor Dolly lay beside him. The +sound of the sea, too, was strange; out-of-doors he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> +could hear it,—the slow crash of the incoming tide +that grew fainter and fainter.</p> + +<p>Dolly and Trug, taken from him, he knew not +to what, and the safe little town of Plymouth +whence he had fled,—all were present to him. He +thought that he and Dolly, with the old dog beside +them, were trudging up the path from the landing, +only there were trees all along the path, like the +limes along the church lane at home in England, +and the houses were not log cabins, but English +cottages. He knocked at the door of Stephen +Hopkins's house, and at the same time it was the +English farmhouse where his father had dwelt, and, +when they opened the door to him, it was his +mother who, coming across the hall, took him in +her arms and drew him in.</p> + +<p>The blackness of the wigwam and the heavy +breathing of the savages came once more to his +consciousness. He dragged himself wearily up on +one elbow. Through the opening in the side of the +wigwam he saw the sky quite dark, and he heard +the receding swash of the ebbing tide. Yonder +was the ocean, and a few miles westward lay Cape +Cod Bay, and across it snug Plymouth. If he only +walked along the shore, followed the coast line, he +would come home.</p> + +<p>There was no plan, scarce any hope in him, only +he knew the English had forgotten him, and he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> +could not endure it longer with a stolid face among +the Indians. Almost ere he thought it out, yet with +instinctive precaution, he slipped off the bed, and, +holding his breath, crouched listening on the floor.</p> + +<p>Slowly and carefully, with the trodden dirt firm +beneath his hands, he writhed his way to the door-opening. +The morning air struck coldly on his +cheeks, so that for an instant he shrank back, but +there was in it something free that emboldened him +to press on.</p> + +<p>Out through the door into the chilly morning, +which to his more accustomed eyes seemed so pale, +he felt detection was certain. But no cry alarmed +him, no motion betrayed him. The soft sand deadened +every sound, as he crept through it, hands and +knees. The debris of twigs, higher up at the verge +of the pine woods, pressed cruelly against his palms, +but, for all the pain, he still crawled on, till darkness +thickened about him, and above him the pine +branches stirred.</p> + +<p>Springing to his feet, Miles ran forward, fast as +two frightened legs could bear him. Brambles that +plucked at his tattered sleeves made him halt, with +heart a-jump; tougher young shoots near tripped +him; but pantingly he held on his way. Through +the branches he could catch a glimpse of the dull +sky and one very bright star that he judged shone +in the west, so he headed toward it.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span></p> + +<p>Little by little the star faded from before his eyes, +and the sky lightened, whereat Miles ran the faster. +A swamp, thick with juniper, barred his course, and +fearfully he turned southward to pick his way about +it. When once more he turned westward, the sky +was pale as lead, and the birds were beginning to sing. +But though the coming of dawn might well alarm +him, he did not heed it now, as, through the trees +before him, he caught the pounding note of waves, +and, a little later, broke forth upon a broad expanse +of meadow, beyond which rumbled the great sea.</p> + +<p>Yonder, very far to west, lay Plymouth, Miles +told himself, and, with a foolish happiness springing +in his heart, he stumbled briskly along through +the sparse growth at the edge of the wood. The +morning light now was sprinkling the sea on his +right hand, and the sky was changing from lead-color +to clear blue. Out from the forest a brook, +all awake with the dawning, came gurgling, so Miles +stopped to drink, and tarried to empty the sand +from his shoes; he guessed he must have run +leagues, for he was very tired.</p> + +<p>But up he got and tramped on pluckily at his +stoutest pace, through the coarse grass of a great +salt marsh, where the new-risen sun struck hot +upon him. At the verge of the marsh an arm of +the sea reached into the land, so Miles had no +course but to wade in, shoes and all. The water<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> +was cold as the sun before had been hot. He +clambered forth on the far side all a-shiver and, with +his head bent, began to run for warmth's sake, across +another bit of marsh and up a little wooded slope of +sand. Headlong he plunged down the opposite slope, +and there, in the hollow, by a brookside, unmoved +as the pine trees themselves, stood two of the Nauset +Indians.</p> + +<p>He trudged back to the camp with them,—there +was no other way. One of them, when they came +up to him, as he stood numb with the surprise, uncertain +whether to run or front them boldly, struck +him a buffet in the face, but the other, catching his +arm, muttered something that made him desist. So +Miles stole round and walked beside the second Indian +on the trip back. They did not offer to carry +him nor to slacken their pace, and he feared to vex +them with lagging behind. His shoes, where he +had waded through the salt water, were stiffening, so +they hurt his feet sorely; by the time he came into +the camp he was fairly limping, yet that was but a +little pain beside what might be before him.</p> + +<p>Yet no one did him hurt. A throng of people +gathered scowlingly about him and talked among +themselves, while he waited, with his flesh a-quiver, +but his chin thrust bravely upward. But, in the +end, they only hustled him into a wigwam, where +they left him with two squaws who were pounding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> +corn. Miles flung himself upon the couch, in the +farthest corner, and hid his face in his arms, but +rigidly he held himself from crying. The stone +pestles that ground the corn went thud, thud, till +his head so ached it seemed as if they beat upon +his very temples.</p> + +<p>He had come to count the rhythmic strokes in +a sort of stupor, wherein he knew only that the +pestles beat, when suddenly they ceased. Out-of-doors +he heard a whooping and a scuffling of +many naked feet in the sand. He pressed himself +closer against the wall of the wigwam; they were +coming to deal with him now. He shut his eyes +tightly and buried his head deeper between his +arms.</p> + +<p>They had come into the wigwam. He ought +to stand up and show them he was not afraid, but +he could not, and, when some one grasped him by +the arm, spite of himself, he cried out in nervous +terror.</p> + +<p>"Me friend. You not know Squanto?" grumbled +a voice he remembered.</p> + +<p>Miles sprang to his feet. The lodge was full +of savages, Aspinet and a score of other hostile +faces, but he gave them no heed, for over him +stood his old Plymouth acquaintance, the interpreter +Squanto. With a great cry of relief, Miles +flung his arms about him. "Oh, Squanto, take me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> +home, quick, quick!" he begged; and in the next +breath, "Where's Dolly? You must find Dolly."</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 320px;"> +<img src="images/i_275.jpg" width="320" height="500" alt="men standing in watter next to small boatload of soldiers" /> +<div class="caption">"Miles made out the figures of the men in the shallop."</div> +</div> + +<p>The little squaw and the puppy dog were safe, +Squanto explained leisurely; the Captain and his +warriors had come in the big canoe and taken them, +and now they waited yonder for Miles himself. +"I'll go to him straightway," cried Miles, with a +laugh that caught in his throat.</p> + +<p>But, like it or no, he must wait yet a time, for +Chief Aspinet and his warriors would feast Squanto +and the Indians who came with him, and the savages +ate long and deliberately. Miles, unable to +swallow a morsel, sat between his friend Squanto +and one who came with him called Iyanough, the +Sachem of Cummaquid, a young Indian with so +gentle a bearing that the boy felt near as safe with +him as with an Englishman.</p> + +<p>He could not help a little movement of repulsion, +though, as they rose from the feast at last, +when Aspinet came up to him, but the Chief was +in a humble mood now and merely handed back +the whittle, which Miles clapped promptly into +his pocket. Aspinet would have put round his +neck a chain of white beads too, but Miles shook +his head disapprovingly; he wanted no presents of +the uncivil Chief. Yet when Squanto said, "Take +um," he thought well to obey the interpreter.</p> + +<p>They came forth at length from the wigwam,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> +under a twilight sky, and, in some semblance of +order, the whole throng of Aspinet's warriors took +up their march across the Cape. One of them +lifted Miles in his arms, and, though the boy would +have preferred some other bearer than a Nauset +man, he contented himself, since Squanto and Iyanough +walked close by.</p> + +<p>At a good pace they passed up into the scrub +pines of the sand hills, and turned westward, where, +in the dull sky, the restful stars were beginning to +show, just as Miles had seen them come out above +the piny hills of Plymouth. The branches bent +noiselessly apart, as the swift train pressed forward +through the woods. The moon was up now; +Miles, glancing back, saw it gleam amid the +boughs, and at first its staring light startled him. +Then they came through the trees out on broad +sand again; the tide was far down, and out yonder, +where the line of moonlit water began, lay the English +shallop, with its sails all white.</p> + +<p>Down the beach the naked feet of the Indians +pattered; now the water splashed noisily beneath +their tread, knee high, waist high. Clearly and +more clearly Miles made out the figures of the men +in the shallop, erect and musket in hand, the gleam +of the corselets and helmets, their faces almost.</p> + +<p>It was Captain Standish himself, who, slipping +his ready musket to one hand, reached over the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> +gunwale and, grasping Miles by the waistband, +dropped him down into the bottom of the shallop. +As he did so he uttered something that sounded like +a fervent "Thank God!"</p> + +<p>Miles neither heard nor heeded that, but he did +remember of a sudden that he was a wretched, little +fugitive criminal, now delivered into the hands of +English justice, and even his hero, who had been +his friend, had thought fit to take him up roughly +and drop him down against his boots. He rolled +a little out of the way, and, crouching against the +side of the boat, buried his face in his arms.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XIX<br /> + +<small>FALLEN AMONG FRIENDS</small></h2> + + +<div class='drop-cap'>AT last the shallop had put off from the +Nauset shore. The babel of clamorous +Indians sank down, and, in its stead, +sounded the thud of muskets laid by and the clatter +of sweeps fitting to the rowlocks. Sharp English +commands Miles heard too, but still he did not +raise his head, till some one lifted him to his +feet.</div> + +<p>All about him gleamed the hard whiteness of +moonlight, under which the idle sail looked vast and +ghostly and the faces of the men around him seemed +unfamiliar. But he heard Captain Standish's voice: +"Come, Miles, clamber forward with you. Your +sister is fair sick for the sight of you."</p> + +<p>He saw it was the Captain who had lifted him +up, and he caught the arm that held him. "I'm +sorry, sir, oh, I'm mighty sorry; I won't fight +another duel nor run away," he whispered huskily.</p> + +<p>"Don't cry, my man," the Captain spoke hurriedly. +"It's well over and you're safe with us now. +Here, Gilbert Winslow, help him forward; and,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> +Stephen Hopkins, draw you nearer; I've a word +to say."</p> + +<p>Dumbly obedient, Miles clambered forward over +the thwarts. Young Gilbert Winslow, one of the +rowers, put out a hand to steady him, and, to the +boy's thinking, grasped his arm roughly. They +need not begin punishing him at once, he reflected +miserably; he was sorry for all he had done, but +when he tried to tell them so, even the Captain +had thought him whimpering because he had been +afraid.</p> + +<p>Then for a moment he forgot his wretchedness, +as he reached the forward thwart where Alden sat, +and from beside him heard Dolly's voice pipe up. +Miles slipped upon the reeling bottom of the shallop, +and, stumbling closer to his sister, put his arms +about her. "You're here, Dolly?" he asked, in +a whisper, half afraid to let his voice sound out. +"You're safe, you and Trug?"</p> + +<p>Such a ragged, tousled Dolly as she was, half +hidden in the folds of Alden's cloak, and almost too +weary even to talk. She was quite safe, though, she +found energy to tell him, and Trug was there behind +her, tied in the peak of the bow. He was sore with +his bruises, but Goodman Cooke said he would live, +for all that. The Indians of Manomet had done +neither of them further hurt, but had sent them to +the Sachem Iyanough, who was a good man and had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> +delivered them to the English that very morning. +So it was all well, but for the poppet.</p> + +<p>"Did they take it from you?" questioned Miles, +mindful of his own experience with the whittle.</p> + +<p>"N—no," answered Dolly, beginning to sniffle. +"I—I did give her to a little maid at Manomet. +Because she ground the corn and fetched wood all +day, and she had no poppet. I gave it to her, and—and +the bad old Chief, he took her away from +the little maid—he did tear her up and make red +cloth of her—and he tied her in his hair, my poppet +Priscilla." Dolly curled herself up against +Alden's arm and wept wearily.</p> + +<p>"Very like Priscilla Mullins can make you +another," the young man suggested kindly, though +his face, in the moonlight, looked amused.</p> + +<p>"'Twould not be she," wailed Dolly, provoked +at such stupidity, and went on to cry as only a very +tired little girl can cry.</p> + +<p>But Miles, quite tearless, leaned back against +Alden's knees, and, without daring to look at the +men about him, gazed up into the shimmery sky. +All the time, though, he was conscious that yonder +in the stern sat Master Stephen Hopkins, and he +thought of him and tormented himself with wondering +what punishment he would inflict till he felt it +almost a relief, when at last his guardian came striding +across the rowers' seats toward him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span></p> + +<p>He came, indeed, but to help Alden unfurl the +sail, for they were now well out from shore, and the +breeze, though of the faintest, was worth calling to +their aid. But when that task was done, Master +Hopkins set himself down on the thwart by Alden, +and presently spoke to Miles, who started guiltily, +for all nothing worse was said than, "Take my +cloak here, Miles Rigdale, and wrap it about you."</p> + +<p>It was chilly, now they were out on the open bay, +as Miles, in his torn shirt, knew, but, without looking +at the speaker, he shrank away, muttering: +"I wish it not. I am not cold, sir."</p> + +<p>"Take the cloak as I bid you," Master Hopkins +repeated, in as stern a voice as if it were a dose of +poison he were pressing upon Miles. "Let me +have no more of this sullenness."</p> + +<p>He spoke so sharply and loudly that every one +must hear; Miles thought to feel the indignant eyes +of the company turn toward him. "I—I want to +go up in the bow beside Trug," he whispered Alden, +and, eager to put as much space as possible between +himself and Master Hopkins, clambered over the +thwart into the peak. There he crouched close to +the battered old dog, who licked his hands, and lay +so covered by the cloak that he could see only the +blank moon rolling through the blue-black sky.</p> + +<p>But, though he did not look on his companions, +he could hear their voices distinctly. Alden it was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> +who spoke first: "We are not heading for home the +quickest way, are we, sir? We follow the shore—"</p> + +<p>"'Tis that the Captain holds it best that we stand +in to land and get fresh water," Hopkins made answer. +"After that we are to hasten our shortest way +unto Plymouth. For there's ill news astir at Nauset."</p> + +<p>"What might that be?"</p> + +<p>"They tell us the Narragansetts, that fierce tribe +to southward, have risen and spoiled some of Massasoit's +men and taken the King himself prisoner."</p> + +<p>There was an instant's silence, during which Miles +listened strainingly, then Alden spoke in a different, +slow tone: "And after they have dealt with Massasoit, +should they attack Plymouth because it is allied +to him—"</p> + +<p>"The pick of our fighting men are here in the +shallop," Hopkins answered deliberately.</p> + +<p>Miles felt something press against his legs as he +lay, heard a sleepy whimper from Dolly. "Let +your sister rest by you, Miles," spoke Alden, bending +over him. "I'm going to aid at the sweeps."</p> + +<p>"And you, Miles," added Master Hopkins, "were +best give your thought to praying unto God that +your mad prank may not prove the means of drawing +the men from Plymouth at her greatest need."</p> + +<p>Once more there was silence, save for the steady +creak, creak of the oars against the thole-pins, and +now and again the flap of the listless sail. Miles<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> +lay quite still and stared at the round moon, yet did +not see it, for before his eyes loomed only the unguarded +cottages of Plymouth, white under the +moonbeams, and, crawling toward them from the +black pine hills, the slinking forms of the Narragansett +warriors. Even when he shut his eyes and, +at last, for sheer exhaustion, slumbered, he saw in +his dreams the sleepy little settlement, all unconscious +of the danger crowding close upon it, and the +horror of this that his own folly had made possible +startled him into wakefulness again.</p> + +<p>He saw the mast sway blackly against the dull +heavens, whence the moon had dropped, and, with +something of comfort in their mere presence, heard +the men grumbling inaudibly, as they tugged at the +sweeps. A dead chill was in the morning wind, so +gladly he huddled the cloak more closely about him +and drowsed once more. But the same vision of +leaping savages and blazing cottages burned before +his eyes, till, with a half stifled cry, he started up, as +through his dreams rang an Indian whoop.</p> + +<p>All about him yellow sunshine rippled on the +water; English voices sounded cheerily, and with +them mingled the clatter of Indian tongues. So +much of his dream was true, yet it could be no +attack upon the shallop, for Dolly, quite unconcerned, +sat gazing down at him from the nearest +thwart.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You are to get up," she greeted him gayly. +"We are at Cummaquid to eat breakfast with +Sachem Iyanough; the Captain and some of the +men have gone ashore unto him, and they have sent +us roast fish hither, and there is clean bread from +home. And you are to rise and eat with us, Master +Hopkins says."</p> + +<p>At that name Miles, still half dazed with sleepiness, +sprang to his feet. Near at hand, across the +noisy blue water, gleamed the green shores of +Cummaquid, where he could see a swarm of dusky +figures, and in their midst the glitter of the armored +Englishmen. But nothing of the shore or even of +the folk about him was quite real, save the voice of +Master Hopkins; Miles did not look at his face.</p> + +<p>Creeping into the stern sheets, as he was bidden, +he choked down the food that was given him, good +bread and fish, that seemed to him gall and ashes. +For the men about him spoke anxiously of the need +of getting speedily to Plymouth, till Miles, heavy +with the sense of guilt, scarcely dared stir or breathe, +or even think. Only when Master Hopkins rose +from beside him did he venture so much as to shift +his position; then he swung about stealthily and +leaned his head upon one arm that rested on the +gunwale. He let one hand droop into the water, +and, watching the ripples slip between his fingers, +thought only of their flow and fall.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span></p> + +<p>So he was still sitting, in what looked a sullen fit, +when a good capful of wind came ruffling it along +the water, and the Captain and his squad splashed +noisily from the shore. Miles heard about him the +clatter of their embarkation, the creak of the hoisted +sail, the brisk voices of the men, and he longed to +slip back to his old place in the bow, away from +them, but he durst not venture it. He stared down +into the blue water, that now began to press more +swiftly through his hand, and, when he lifted his +eyes, the green shore was fading in the distance.</p> + +<p>With a creak of the cordage, the shallop came +about on a fresh tack, so only dazzling water that +made his eyes ache now lay before Miles. Through +the rents in his shirt he felt the sun hot on his bare +shoulders, and involuntarily he made a restless +movement. "What's amiss, Miles?" spoke the +Captain's quick voice. Miles did not answer, but, +feeling rebuked, sat silent, and studied the grain of +the wood in the seat on which he perched.</p> + +<p>But the Captain, sitting next him, began to ask him +questions in a curt, matter-of-fact tone, as to what +Indian villages he had entered, and whether he had +noted signs of warlike preparation, to all of which +Miles answered hesitatingly, a little frightened, because +the men about him silenced their talk to hark +to him.</p> + +<p>Once he glanced sidewise at Standish, but the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> +latter's brows were puckered and his eyes preoccupied, +so Miles, not knowing whether he was worried +about the savages or angry with him, looked again +at his shoes. But when the Captain relapsed into +grave silence, his fear grew greater than his shame +before rebuke; so at last he plucked the Captain's +sleeve and whispered him: "Is there any chance, +sir,—maybe shall we come to Plymouth ere the +Indians kill all the people?"</p> + +<p>"What set such a mad fancy in your head?" +Standish asked, almost sharply. "There's not an +Indian within six league of Plymouth. Don't worry +yourself for that, lad; you'll find the village as you +left it, and all the women ready to weep over you."</p> + +<p>At these first comforting words he had received +since he boarded the shallop, Miles plucked up heart +and drew closer to Captain Standish. But speedily he +took note of the anxiety that made the Captain +forgetful of him, and, with a new sorrow, he told +himself that to his hero he was no longer "Miles, +my soldier," but a foolish boy, who, because he was +little, must be spoken to gently, and not even let +know the full extent of the evil he had brought +about. For, spite of Standish's cheerful speech, he +could see clearly enough that every man in the craft +was troubled and longing to reach the endangered +settlement.</p> + +<p>But the wind blew lightly, in veering flaws, so the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> +shallop must make tedious long tacks, while the +hours rolled out. The heat began to go from the +air, so Miles was glad to wrap himself in a spare +cloak, as the Captain ordered; and the sun, in the +west, slipped behind gray clouds. The water darkened, +and the twilight had fallen in earnest, when at +last the shallop tacked in at the outer entrance of +Plymouth Harbor.</p> + +<p>At first the thickly wooded beach point screened +the shore, but, as the little craft rounded it, the dim +hills across the harbor were visible, and there, on the +greatest hill, too low for stars, Miles saw sparks of +light twinkle.</p> + +<p>It was as if the men in the shallop all drew breath +again, and Miles himself, forgetting his guilt and +the punishment in store for him, cried joyfully: +"They're safe!"</p> + +<p>But in a moment half the joy went from him, for, +when Alden, in the bow, fired his musket thrice, +with startling reëchoes, Master Hopkins told him +grimly that the signal was to let the people yonder +know he had destroyed neither himself nor his sister +by his sinful foolhardiness. Miles hung his head +sorrily, and, for all Captain Standish presently +clapped him on the shoulder and bade him look +how the people flocked to the landing, did not +glance up till, with a splash of oars in the quiet +water, the shallop lay to, by the dark rock.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span></p> + +<p>In the thick twilight the faces of the people +gathered thither could not be made out, but all the +colony was there, Miles guessed by the babel of +voices, and, after they had lifted him ashore, he +knew it was Priscilla Mullins who hugged him undignifiedly, +and he thought it was Mistress Brewster +who cried when she spoke to him. But he had no +time to make certain, for just then Master Hopkins +grasped him by the arm and led him away up the +hill to his house.</p> + +<p>Within the familiar living room a candle was +alight, that set Miles blinking as he was brought in +from the darkness, but he made out Mistress Hopkins, +with an anxious scowl on her brows, though, +for all Miles's torn shirt, she did not scold one +word, and he saw Constance, with her eyes red, +and Giles, who had tramped in after him, and +Dotey and Lister. "Then they didn't hang you?" +Miles cried to the latter, too weary to be civil.</p> + +<p>"Hang who?" asked Ned, pretty sheepishly, as +his master's eyes were upon him.</p> + +<p>"You said they were going to hang you—"</p> + +<p>"Not I, never," vowed Ned, with his face flushing, +and, slouching off into the bedroom, rattled the +door to behind him.</p> + +<p>Miles followed him thither speedily,—he was +not to be coddled by two soft-hearted women, +Master Hopkins said,—and Giles and Dotey came<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> +too. They questioned him eagerly of his adventures, +but Miles, unflattered even by such attention, +would not speak of Indians or of birch +canoes, just poured forth his woes in a weary voice +upon the verge of tears: he would surely be +soundly whipped, and Ned had said they would +be hanged and they hadn't been, and if Ned hadn't +said it, he wouldn't 'a' run away.</p> + +<p>"I am right sorry, for your sake, I was not dealt +with less mercifully," Lister said bitterly, and Miles, +glancing up at him, was checked in his lamentation; +truly, Ned looked miserable, with his face white and +a noticeable limp in his gait, and Dotey, too, had +one hand bandaged, but, most awe-inspiring of all, +Miles noted, as Ned unfastened his shirt, a vivid +red mark about the base of his neck. "What was +it they did to you, then?" he asked, but neither +of the Edwards seemed eager to explain.</p> + +<p>"They just tied 'em neck and heels," Giles volunteered +presently, as he began undressing. "And +before they'd kept them so an hour, they promised +amendment and—Hey, Ed Dotey, make Ned cease +throwing shoes at me."</p> + +<p>With a wrangling word or two peace was restored, +and the young men took themselves to rest; Miles +noted that the ex-duellists drew the line at sharing +one bed, for Ned Lister lay down beside him, while +Giles and Dotey slept together.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span></p> + +<p>How quiet and clean it seemed in the little chamber, +Miles thought; and how blessed it was that the +Indians had not fallen on Plymouth! Involuntarily +he sighed for very peace and happiness, then lost all +sense of comfort at the recollection of the morrow +and the punishment deferred that yet would surely +come. "Ned, O Ned," he began, and shook Lister, +who was lying with his head between his arms. +"Tell me, Ned, how greatly does it hurt to be tied +neck and heels?"</p> + +<p>"Um-m-m!" groaned the exasperated Lister. +"Miley, if you say 'neck and heels' to me again, +I'll wake up and thrash you."</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XX<br /> + +<small>A SON OF PERDITION</small></h2> + + +<div class='drop-cap'>MILES was not fated, however, to learn by +experience how it felt to be tied neck and +heels; for all his double sin of abetting a +duel and running away from the settlement, he suffered +no unusual punishment. Instead, next day at +noon, when Master Hopkins returned from the +fields, he ordered him into the closet, and there gave +him as thorough a flogging as even the boy's tormented +fancy had conjured up.</div> + +<p>Miles came out, with his shoulders quivering, +and, not staying for dinner, slouched away through +the fields to the shore, where he stood a time blinking +out to sea. He had been bidden go present +himself to the Elder and be admonished for his +sins, but he did not hold it necessary to go just yet.</p> + +<p>At last he had himself tolerably in hand, and, +with no great heart for what was before him, was +loitering along the shingle to the village, when a +shrill voice hailed him, and, looking up, he saw +Jack and Joe and Francis running toward him. So +Miles put on an unconcerned bearing, and, making<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> +the pebbles clatter beneath his tread, swaggered to +meet them.</p> + +<p>Oh, yes, he could tell them brave tales of how +he had lived with the Indians, he bragged, but not +now; he had to go now and be admonished by the +Elder, he explained, as if he took pride in such +awful depths of iniquity.</p> + +<p>"And Stephen Hopkins has admonished you ere +this, I'll warrant," chuckled Francis. "How heavily +did he lam you?"</p> + +<p>With melancholy satisfaction, Miles pulled off +his shirt and exhibited his stripes to his admiring +companions.</p> + +<p>"Big red weals," quoth Jack. "I'm glad 'twas +not I must bear such a banging. Here's more +than one stroke has broken the skin."</p> + +<p>Miles twisted his neck, in a vain effort to study +his smarting shoulders, while his estimate of himself +rose surprisingly.</p> + +<p>"And for each whang Miles cried out, I'll be +bound," added Francis.</p> + +<p>"I did not open my lips," boasted Miles. "A' +could not make me. You can talk, if you will, +Francie. We know if you'd borne the half of this, +we'd 'a' heard you roaring from the Fort Hill clear +to the Rock. But I mind not a beating, nor aught +they can do to me or say. 'Twas so brave a life I +led among the Indians—"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span></p> + +<p>There something in Francis's face made Miles +glance over his shoulder, and right behind him, his +step deadened by the sand, stood the Captain, who +was gazing down at him with a look between contemptuous +and amused, that made the other lads +slip away, and set Miles scuttling into his shirt.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, you show a deep and edifying sense +of the mischief you have done," Standish said +quietly, but the very absence of anger from his tone +made Miles's face burn the hotter.</p> + +<p>He was glad that his shirt was over his head at +that moment, so he could not see the speaker's +look, and he dreaded to meet it. But when he had +drawn on the garment and could glance round him, +he saw, with an added pang of humiliation, that +Captain Standish, not holding him worthy of further +notice, had trudged on to the landing.</p> + +<p>For a moment Miles stood gazing blankly after +him; then he turned and, kicking up the sand in +half-hearted little spurts, plodded on up the hill +to Master Brewster's gate. Beneath the bluff, on +the shore of the brook, he came upon the Elder, +laboring diligently among his green things, and told +him in a listless tone why he had come thither. +Master Brewster talked to him a long time and +wisely, Miles had no doubt, but he only heard the +words vaguely, for he was feeling the piteous smart +of his irritated shoulders, and watching the flecks<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> +of light through the green bushes that shifted across +the Elder's doublet, and harking to the loud purr +of the fat cat Solomon, who was rubbing himself +against the Elder's knees.</p> + +<p>Yet he was dully sorry when the Elder dismissed +him, for that left him free for some heavy thoughts. +It would be a little comfort to speak with Dolly; +so, rather uncertain what welcome such a rapscallion +as he might hope for, he toiled up the bluff and +faltered into the Brewsters' living room.</p> + +<p>The wind from the sea stirred the curtain at the +window, and in the full blast, industriously sewing +at a small gown, Mistress Mullins sat alone. "So +you've come to visit me, little Indian?" she greeted +Miles, and put her hands to her brown hair that +had ruffled in the draught. "My scalp is quite +safe? You are well assured you have no tomahawk +about you?"</p> + +<p>Miles shook his head in crestfallen fashion; he +only wanted to see Dolly, he murmured.</p> + +<p>"She is in bed, poor little one! till I make her +some tidy clothes to put on," Priscilla answered. +"Stay and talk with me, Miles, like a gallant lad. +Come, if you'll look merry again, I'll show you +something rare. 'Tis a humbird."</p> + +<p>She led him to the western casement, where on +the window-sill rested a little cage of paper, in which +fluttered a shimmery atom no bigger than a bee.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> +For a moment, because Priscilla expected it of him, +Miles gazed at the tiny whirring wings, and touched +the cage gently, but in so listless a fashion that the +young girl asked abruptly: "What has gone wrong +with you, Miles?"</p> + +<p>"Naught."</p> + +<p>"Then you are an uncivil youth to wear such a +glum face. Come, tell me it all. Is it that Stephen +Hopkins hath flogged you?"</p> + +<p>"No!" Miles answered, with an angry sniff. +"A beating more or less, 'tis nothing to a man."</p> + +<p>Priscilla suddenly put an arm about his neck. +"My poor little—man!" she said, and, for all she +laughed, her voice was tender. "I know I am but +a silly woman, yet mayhap I can help you,—an +you let me. Is it that the Elder rated you grievously?"</p> + +<p>Miles shook his head, then, spite of himself, +blurted out: "'Tis—Captain Standish is angry and +scarce will look at me. And he has ever been kind +to me. But now he will have none of me. I had +no mind to be so wicked; I did not mean what I +said; I'm sorry."</p> + +<p>"Why, you need not lay it to heart if the Captain +has been round with you," the girl coaxed. "He +must be so troubled now with all this ill news of +the savages."</p> + +<p>"But he—he thinks I'm not sorry," Miles<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> +faltered, twisting the ends of the window curtain +relentlessly between his hands. "And I am, but I +can't go to him and say it, when he is angered."</p> + +<p>"But I can go to him and tell him you are sorry, +if 'twill comfort you," Priscilla answered coolly. +"I have no fear of your Captain."</p> + +<p>"Will you so?" Miles cried gratefully. "Sure, +you're uncommon good. When I'm older I'll +marry you,—unless Jack Alden does it ere then."</p> + +<p>Whereat Mistress Mullins's face flushed pink, +and she pulled Miles's ears, and, calling him a +scamp, packed him into the bedroom to speak with +Dolly.</p> + +<p>So, when Miles ran home to supper, he was in +an almost cheerful mood, which speedily ended, for +Master Hopkins made him read a sorrowful chapter +on the wrath of God against transgressors, and +cuffed him because he could not pronounce the +word "Zarhites." Mistress Hopkins scolded too, +because she had labored all the afternoon to mend +the shirt which Miles had worn upon his wanderings; +moreover, she would have to make the troublesome +boy a new doublet, to replace the one he had +lost, and new breeches, for those he now wore were +disgracefully ragged, so perhaps she had reason to +be vexed on his account.</p> + +<p>"But I did not tear them wantonly," Miles +lamented to Ned Lister next morning. "Yet she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> +says she is so busied she cannot make me new +clothes for days, and I must wear my breeches all +ragged for punishment."</p> + +<p>"Hm!" answered Ned. "Half Plymouth seems +to take its diversion in punishing the other half." +He was on his knees between two rows of the +rustling green cornstalks, where he was grubbing +up those weeds that were so tough as to resist his +hoe; his doublet was off, but he had so scrupulously +turned up the collar of his shirt that no trace of the +red mark about his neck could be seen.</p> + +<p>It was so unusual for Ned to work that Miles +was lingering to watch him, when suddenly the +young man broke out: "Look you here, Miley, +you were with me that day I made Dotey to fight +me, and you heard all I said unto him, so I ought +to tell you—'twas not he bore tales of me unto +Hopkins; 'twas the mistress herself."</p> + +<p>Miles nodded his head. "I never had any +liking for her," he said softly.</p> + +<p>Ned weeded scowlingly. "Well, she made Hopkins +go unto the Governor and beg that Ed Dotey +and I be released after we'd been tied an hour," he +admitted, in a grudging tone. "She might be +worse, and so might Ed Dotey; he's no talebearer, +though he is a self-sufficient coxcomb."</p> + +<p>For several days this was the only bit of private +talk which Miles had with Ned, for Master Hopkins,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> +who said that Lister had already corrupted +the boy sufficiently, took now a new course of keeping +the two rigorously apart. While Ned was sent +to work in the fields, Miles was bidden weed in +the house-garden, or fetch and carry for Mistress +Hopkins.</p> + +<p>Master Hopkins believed, too, that Satan found +mischief for idle hands, so he saw to it that one +task followed another, till Miles, honestly wearied, +looked back with fondness to his life among the +Indians as a time of perpetual holiday. One morning, +indeed, about a week after his return to Plymouth, +when he was forbidden to help Ned dig +clams, and ordered, instead, to fetch water and then +weed in the garden, he voiced his rebellious wish: +"I would I were back with those good, friendly +Indians at Manomet."</p> + +<p>Master Hopkins, who was busy at the delicate +task of repairing the lock of his musket, looked up +at the muttered words. "You wish to dwell among +those shameless idolaters?" he questioned grimly. +"Verily, Miles Rigdale, you are a son of perdition."</p> + +<p>A very terrible name that was, Miles thought, +but it was worse than the hard name, that Master +Hopkins cuffed him till his ears tingled and his +eyes watered.</p> + +<p>Frightened at his own wickedness, and smarting +with the blows, he hurried off to the spring, and,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> +halfway thither, met with Francis Billington. Even +Francis's sympathy would have been welcome just +then, and, after all he had undergone because of his +confession to save the boy, Miles thought he had +some claim to it. But Francis stiffened up at his +greeting and put on a surprising new air of virtue. +"I'm forbid to have to do with you, Miles," he +announced, with open delight. "Sure, I see not +why your father ever need keep you so tenderly +from my conversation. Why, you are yourself the +worst lad in all the colony; 'twas Captain Standish +himself said so to my father."</p> + +<p>"I think you are not speaking the truth," Miles +answered doggedly; he had a mind to fight Francis +for such a story, but very likely if he fought, Master +Hopkins would whip him. So he drooped his +head under the other's taunt and plodded on to the +spring. He didn't believe Francis, he repeated to +himself, while he swallowed and swallowed in his +throat. But there came the remembrance of the +look the Captain had given him, there on the shore, +and his contemptuous words, and, with a sickening +fear that, for once, Francis had spoken the truth, +he felt the lump in his throat swell bigger.</p> + +<p>He did not care, though the water, as he scooped +up his pailful at the spring, slopped over his shoes, +but he did care when he heard on the pathway from +the bluff the scatter of pebbles under a quick footstep;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> +he could not let any one see him in so sorry +a mood. Catching up his pail, he pressed into the +crackling green alders at the farther side of the +spring, and, as he did so, heard some one call +sharply, "Miles."</p> + +<p>It was Captain Standish's voice, Captain Standish +who would want to rate him as the worst lad in the +colony, who would never believe he was penitent. +Miles put his head down and, crashing through the +alders, never paused till the whole dense thicket lay +between him and his pursuer. He could hear on +the lifeless, hot air no sound save that of his own +fluttering breath; no one had offered to follow him, +and he felt suddenly sorry that he had escaped.</p> + +<p>But, without courage to go back to the spring +and face the Captain, he crouched down beneath +the bushes and sat a long time staring through the +leaves at the bright water of the brook. Up in the +street he heard eager voices once, but the dread of +encountering Captain Standish made him stay quiet +in his hiding place, till the street was still again. +Then he clambered painfully up the steeper part +of the bluff below Cooke's house, and, with a new +terror growing on him of the mighty scolding he +could expect for his delay, scudded home.</p> + +<p>But no one had space to scold him. When he +came to the house he found Mistress Hopkins, +quite silent, and Constance, with a scared face,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> +busied about dinner, and Ned and Dotey, with +Giles to help, overhauling their muskets. "What +is it has happened?" Miles questioned in amazement.</p> + +<p>"War!" Ned answered cheerily, and Mistress +Hopkins, with a grewsome sort of satisfaction, added +that she always said they'd yet be slain by the +heathen savages.</p> + +<p>"It happened at Namasket, five league from +here," Ned ran on. "Squanto and two other +friendly copper-skins, Hobbamock and Tokamahamon, +they went thither quietly to learn how much +truth was in this talk of rebellion against Massasoit. +And there was a certain Corbitant, an under-chief +of the King's, who is in league with the Narragansetts, +and he discovered them. Hobbamock broke +from them and came fleeing hither, not an hour +agone, but Tokamahamon they took and Squanto +they've slain. So we are furbishing up our muskets."</p> + +<p>Poor Squanto, who had fetched him from Nauset, +was dead. That was Miles's first thought, and he +was honestly grieved. But ere dinner was out he +learned from his elders that there was other fearful +matter to think on, for if Massasoit's men were +rebelling and joining the Narragansetts against the +King and his allies, it meant a dreadful danger for +the settlement.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span></p> + +<p>Quietly, but resolutely enough, the Englishmen +made their arrangements to march against Namasket +and punish the slayers of their friends. After a night +of watching and half hidden fear, next morning, in +the midst of a beating rain, a little squad of ten, +with the Captain at their head, and Hobbamock to +guide them, went forth to the attack.</p> + +<p>From the western window Miles watched them go. +He had hoped to be allowed to slip forth from the +house and see them start upon their expedition; at +least get a last glimpse of Captain Standish, who, +perhaps, in the confusion, would forget he was angry +and say, "Good-morrow, Miles," as he used. So +Miles fetched Master Hopkins's buff-coat, and +helped Constance with the breakfast kettle, and +mended the fire, and quieted Damaris, and waited +and hoped, till he saw the last man of the column +disappear over the bluff.</p> + +<p>He could run out and seek a dry stick of wood +from the pile now, when going forth profited him +nothing. He slouched into the wet and the wind, +and, in the pashy dooryard, met Ned, who was in a +bad temper, because, when he asked his master to +let him go on the expedition, he had been contemptuously +bidden by Hopkins to "stay home +with the women and tend the disgraceful hurts he +had taken in his godless brawl."</p> + +<p>"If I'd not been such a Jack as to get myself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> +slashed, I might 'a' gone," Ned grumbled now to +Miles, as he kicked his heels in the big puddle before +the doorstone. "And they'll have some good +fighting, I'll wager."</p> + +<p>"Do you think surely some of our men will be +slain?" Miles questioned, terror-stricken.</p> + +<p>"A buff-coat does not make a man immortal," +Ned cast over his shoulder, as he stamped into the +house.</p> + +<p>But Miles, standing in the pouring rain, gazed +up the path by which the little company had gone. +The sky was thick gray, and the rain, driven by +the wind from off the harbor, fell in long, livid +streaks. He took up a shiny wet stick from the +ground and snapped it slowly in his hands. "The +Captain may be killed," he told himself dazedly. +"And he does not know that I be sorry."</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XXI<br /> + +<small>BETWEEN MAN AND MAN</small></h2> + + +<div class='drop-cap'>ALL that night the rain fell steadily; harking +to its slow patter on the roof, Miles +thought on those who were tramping the +forest, and wondered how they fared. Ned, stretched +beside him, save for his regular breathing, lay like +one dead, and yonder in the living room he could +hear Trug, admitted to shelter from the rain, grumbling +in his sleep.</div> + +<p>A long, long night it was, and the day that followed, +all blurry with faint sunshine, was well nigh +as long. Little work was to do in the wet fields, +so Miles fetched pails of water and tended the fretting +babies, while, like every other soul in the colony, +he waited for news of the Captain and his men.</p> + +<p>A second night, sickly with warm mist, had +closed in on Plymouth, before tidings came. Miles +and Giles had gone forth together into the moist +darkness to the spring, where they drank, before +drawing a last bucketful for the house; the alders +looked startlingly dense against the lighter black of +the sky, and Miles kept close to Giles.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span></p> + +<p>Even the elder boy was more alert than his +wont, and jumped listening to his feet, when far +up the Namasket trail sounded ordered footsteps. +"'Tis father and the men returning," he cried next +moment, and scrambled swiftly up the bluff, with +Miles, eager yet half in dread lest ill had befallen, +panting after.</p> + +<p>Down through the dusk of the trail men were +coming—the heavily armed Englishmen and in +their midst some scantily clad savages. Giles, forgetful +of reserve for once, pressed forward boldly to +meet his father, but Miles, having no one to meet, +stood back in the bushes, that touched his face +clammily, and watched the little column, noisy now, +as home approached, swing past. At its head +marched a stocky figure that he knew, and, as if the +Captain could see him even in the blackness, Miles +shrank a little farther into the bushes.</p> + +<p>Yet he joined himself to the very end of the column, +for he had no will to stay alone in the dark. +Goodman Cooke marched there, and, eager to have +some friend in the party, Miles fell into step beside +him. "You are all come back safe, sir?" he asked +propitiatingly.</p> + +<p>"Surely, yes," the other replied. "All sound, +save three Indians we fetched hither to the Doctor. +Best of all, we've Squanto here; we found him +unhurt."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span></p> + +<p>By this they had come down into the village, +where all the people, it seemed, had hurried forth, +and, hearing the news of their interpreter's return, +showed no small joy thereover. Squanto, a figure +of varying light and shade beneath the lantern glow, +took such expressions of kind feeling stolidly, and +profited from the good wishes of his white friends +by asking for strong water. There was some merriment +thereat among the Englishmen,—all were in +good spirits, in truth, for the expedition had fared +well.</p> + +<p>In broken fragments Miles caught the story as +he was hustled about among the returned soldiers +and, with the other lads, stood staring at them +under the lantern light: how the Englishmen, coming +at midnight to Namasket, had beset the house +of Corbitant, but found that valiant chief had fled +at the mere rumor of their approach; how several +of the Indians, trying to press forth in spite of their +promises that no harm was meant them, had been +hurt; how Squanto and Tokamahamon had been +found alive; and how, after leaving for Corbitant a +stern warning as to what he might expect if he +continued to stir up rebellion against Massasoit +and his allies, they had returned, successful and +unscathed.</p> + +<p>But the story was quickly told by the hungry +men, and then they scattered to their houses. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> +street was swiftly emptied, and even Giles, calling +to Miles to fetch home the bucket they had left +at the spring, trudged away with his father.</p> + +<p>Miles turned slowly up the street; he had admitted +it to no one, even to Giles and Ned, but the +last week he had had a fear of the black woods. +Spite of his boasts to the boys of his merry life with +the savages, he shuddered every time he thought of +Nauset, and he had a foolish feeling that if he ventured +into the forest the Indians might swoop down +on him again. In the daytime he could laugh it +away, but at night, and especially after the anxiety +of the last twenty-four hours, the fear came on him +strongly, and it did not seem as if the courage was +in him to go down to the inky spring alongside the +stepping-stones that led to the woods.</p> + +<p>He stood a time by Cooke's gate, in the hope that +he might see some one else bound for the spring, but +no one came. He went a few steps down the +street, but, if he returned to the house without the +bucket, he would be scolded, so, at a snail's gait, +he trudged uphill again.</p> + +<p>Then it was that he noted the companionable +light that shone in the window of Standish's cottage, +high up the hillside, and, though he was afraid of +the Captain, yet there seemed a kind of encouragement +in that shiny spark that made him cross the +street and loiter nearer. "Maybe John Alden'll be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> +going to the spring," he told himself. "Or maybe—maybe +I'll go, presently."</p> + +<p>Just at the edge of the Captain's unfenced dooryard, +he halted and stood gazing at the light. He +was not spying, to be sure; he would go in a +moment. Through the open window he could see +a corner of the living room, a table, with a rack +and three guns above it, and, as he gazed, Alden, a +big, black figure, strode into the bright corner and +set down two bowls on the table. Miles drew +a step or two nearer. "Maybe the Captain will +come into the light next," he told himself. "And +after I've seen him, then—"</p> + +<p>And then some one took him firmly by the +shoulder, and right beside him spoke the Captain's +voice, "Well, Miles?"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" the boy gasped, and then, in a panic-stricken +tone, "I'm going home; prithee, let me go +home, sir."</p> + +<p>"Nay, you are coming in with me," Standish +answered, and, helplessly, Miles yielded to the +other's grasp and stumbled over the threshold.</p> + +<p>Within, the living room was bare and martial, with +a rapier above the chimneypiece that caught a +gleam from the candle set below it, and the form +by the door and the rough stools standing stiffly as +on parade. On a shelf beside the fireplace there +were some pots and platters; Miles noted all very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> +accurately, and wondered that he should note them +at such a time.</p> + +<p>He started when Captain Standish spoke, for all +his tone was amused: "Here, Jack, set a bowl for +this gentleman I have fetched to sup with us. And +you, Miles, will you give me your parole not to +attempt an escape, if I take my hand from your +collar?"</p> + +<p>Miles eyed the shaft of candlelight that lay at his +feet and ventured no answer. He knew the Captain +had loosed his grasp on him, and then he heard +him ask, in a different, serious tone: "Are you +afraid of me?"</p> + +<p>At that Miles tossed back his head, stiffly as if a +bar of iron were run down his neck. "No, sir," +he said, boldly and untruthfully.</p> + +<p>He could not slip away now, whatever might be +in store for him, but stood rigid and unpretending, +while Captain Standish flung off his buff-coat, and +Alden, with a ponderous movement, lifted the soup +kettle to the table. Then he sat down on a stool, +as he was bidden, and ate. It was clam broth, and +he was aware of the good flavor of it, just as he was +aware, beneath all his alarm, of the honorable fact +that he was taking supper with Captain Standish. +He began to hazard long looks at the Captain and to +listen to the talk of the two men, with some thought +for their words, as well as for his own concerns.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span></p> + +<p>"This is none of your cooking, Jack," said +Standish, as he rose to refill his bowl.</p> + +<p>"Mistress Mullins fetched us the broth," Alden +replied, with a studious lack of interest. "She +thought we'd have naught to eat in the house to-night."</p> + +<p>"'Twas very wisely thought. When you have +eaten, Jack, best carry back her kettle. They'll +not yet be abed at the Elder's house."</p> + +<p>Somehow, after that, Alden made short work of +his portion, and, summarily emptying the kettle +into the Captain's bowl, gave it a perfunctory scrub +and started briskly for Master Brewster's cottage.</p> + +<p>The Captain, with his face sober all but his eyes, +swallowed his broth in leisurely silence for a moment +before he addressed his small companion: "I had +speech with Priscilla Mullins several days since. +What is this, Miles, that she tells me you had to +say to me?"</p> + +<p>Miles crumbled the fag end of his piece of bread +with one nervous hand. "Why, 'twas—'twas—Captain +Standish, is it true you think me the worst +lad in the settlement?" He looked up into the +other's face, and something he saw there made him +blurt out, "I doubt if you do."</p> + +<p>"So that's why you ran away from me day before +yesterday, is it?"</p> + +<p>Miles kicked his heels softly against the legs of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span> +his stool. "Because I want to tell you I'm sorry," +he murmured. "I shall never run away to the +Indians again. I—I was but talking when I said +those words unto Francis and the others."</p> + +<p>"A 'miles gloriosus,' eh?" said the Captain, and +smiled.</p> + +<p>Miles saw nothing amusing in the words, but he +took it as a sign the Captain was his friend again, +so he smiled back. "I won't do it again, sir," he +promised vaguely, and then, as Standish rose from +the table, he slipped off his stool. "May I wash +the dishes, sir?" he volunteered for "a girl's work" +eagerly.</p> + +<p>"If you wish it," the Captain answered, and then, +about the time Miles had dropped the bowls and +spoons into the nearest pail of water, broke out +irrelevantly, "In the name of goodness, Miles, are +those the only breeches you have to wear?"</p> + +<p>Miles clapped his right hand over one knee, and +his left over an ostentatious rift in the side. "She +hasn't time to make me new ones; I'm wearing +these for punishment," he explained.</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" said Standish; he took his pipe from +the chimneypiece and, filling it, kept silent so long +that Miles finished his dishes and stole over to the +hearth beside him. On the chimneypiece some +books stood up from the miscellaneous litter, and, +because they were the Captain's books, Miles raised<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> +himself on tiptoe to read their names. A "Bariffe's +Artillery Guide" pleased him most; he was wondering +if he could learn from that how to be a soldier +like the Captain, when behind him spoke a familiar +voice: "Well, Miley, do you have it in mind to +sleep at home to-night?"</p> + +<p>Miles swung round with a start; Master Hopkins +and that bucket of water and the scolding to +come,—he remembered all clearly, for there in +the doorway stood Ned Lister, with his out of +temper look. "The master sent me to find the +boy," he explained more civilly to the Captain. +"I've sought him all through the village. Come, +Miles, Master Hopkins—"</p> + +<p>Involuntarily Miles pressed close to the Captain. +"Is he going to whip me, Ned?" he asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Tell Master Hopkins I'll send the lad home +straightway," Standish dismissed Lister curtly, then +puffed a moment at his pipe till the young man's +leisurely footsteps died out in the yard. "So Master +Hopkins whips you often?" he questioned abruptly.</p> + +<p>"He says I need the rod," Miles answered in a +woful voice, wondering if the Captain would take his +part. "He says I'm a son of perdition. I see not +why 'tis right. When Ned Lister called Dotey a +fool, he said he was in danger of hell fire, and, sure, +son of perdition is a worser name than fool."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hm!" muttered the Captain. "And you're +still good friends with that valiant duellist, Edward +Lister?"</p> + +<p>"I like Ned mightily, yes. But Master Hopkins +does not suffer me work near him."</p> + +<p>"That's for punishment, too, I take it?"</p> + +<p>Miles nodded.</p> + +<p>"At this rate you should prove the best lad in +the colony, not the worst," the Captain said dryly; +and then, "Say we walk down to Master Hopkins's +house now, and see how that wounded Indian is +faring."</p> + +<p>A queer, vague hope that had risen in Miles vanished +and left an amazing emptiness; the blackness +of the lonely spring, and the whipping for that evening's +tarrying came to his mind before he had +crossed the room, and in the doorway he halted short.</p> + +<p>"What's amiss?" asked Standish, with no great +surprise, however.</p> + +<p>"I—I take it, I'm afraid," gasped Miles, hot +and cold with the shame of the terror he could not +check. "I must go down to the spring, and 'tis +dark, and I think I'll be whipped, and—and—" +His lips were twitching childishly. "But I wasn't +afraid at Nauset, not a whit, and I didn't cry there," +he added piteously.</p> + +<p>"I understand," the Captain said, with amazing +kindness. "I'll go to the spring with you, Miles."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span></p> + +<p>For the second time in his life, Miles stepped out +into the night with the Captain, but there was small +elation in his heart with the knowledge of his cowardice +upon him. He felt a censure in his companion's +silence, yet he dared not speak himself, only +hurried forward as fast as possible to end the walk. +They left the last cottage behind them, passed a +menacing clump of bushes, and then, at the head of +the path, Miles spoke out, almost in spite of himself: +"Pray you, go back, sir. I'm not afraid. I +won't be afraid. I'll go alone."</p> + +<p>He called back the last, halfway down the path. +The pebbles rattled with shocking loudness; there +in the thicket, across the sullen brook, something +stirred, he knew. With his eyes on the black +ground, he stumbled toward the gurgle of the spring, +groped for his bucket, fearing lest his hand touch +something else, and, seizing it, filled it sparsely at +the first dip, then, setting his teeth tight, made himself +fill it again, slowly and carefully.</p> + +<p>Behind him, as he rose, the bushes all were moving +and alive, and something, he knew, pressed close +at his heels. He could not hurry with the bucket +in his hand, only clamber, step by step, with the +breath choked within him, till he came at last to the +black pathway above the bluff. Before he could +cast a frightened look up the trail, the bucket was +quietly taken from him. "You waited here for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> +me?" Miles gasped, and then, "But I wasn't +afraid."</p> + +<p>"You will not be next time, Soldier Rigdale," +Standish answered him, and, putting a hand on his +shoulder, kept it there.</p> + +<p>Before they were into the thick of the settlement, +he spoke again, abruptly: "So you're not happy at +Master Hopkins's?"</p> + +<p>"I hate it there," Miles said under his breath, +and then the hope that the Captain's former words +had raised swept back once more, and he caught the +other's hand. "Will you take me away from him, +sir?" he asked hurriedly. "If I could live with +Jack Cooke, anywhere else, I know I could be +good."</p> + +<p>"I know you could, too," Standish answered. +"And I think your father and mother would wish +it. But Master Hopkins is your guardian and your +kinsman; I can do naught, only try my hand at +coaxing, and I'm uncommon ill at that. My faith, +I know not why I speak it out to such a babe as +you, Miles, but you must say naught of this, remember. +Only—if 'twill comfort you for your +tattered breeches and the rest of your penances,—so +soon as pretext is given me, I am minded to +take you from Master Hopkins to live with me."</p> + +<p>"With you?" Miles asked in the blankness of +joy, and then he must hush, for the candlelight<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> +from Master Hopkins's window struck across his +face, and an instant later they came into the living +room.</p> + +<p>Master Hopkins looked angry, of course, but his +face relaxed at sight of the Captain, and he only +bade Miles pack off to bed. "But he'll surely +thrash you in the morning, Miles," Giles said, with +a sober pucker of the brows. "What made you +stay so long?"</p> + +<p>"I was with the Captain," Miles replied light-heartedly, +and to himself he added, "And by and +by 'twill be like this evening every day, for I'll live +with him all the time."</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XXII<br /> + +<small>THE BEARER OF TIDINGS</small></h2> + + +<div class='drop-cap'>CAPTAIN STANDISH must have spoken +to Master Hopkins of other matter than +wounded Indians, for, to his surprise, Miles +got no whipping next morning. "Since the Captain +needed you, I cannot punish you for your +delay," Master Hopkins said curtly, a remission +which would have overwhelmed Miles, if it had not +been surpassed by the joyous fact of Mistress Hopkins's +bringing out an old suit of his father's that +afternoon and starting to make him new clothes.</div> + +<p>In duty bound Miles went forth, and, seeking +Priscilla, thanked her awkwardly that she had spoken +for him to the Captain. He wasn't seeking Francis +Billington, he would have declared, but somehow +he sauntered to the shore, where Francis was likely +to be, and, true enough, there he was, paddling in +the water by the landing rock.</p> + +<p>Miles halted on the beach and resumed the talk +where it had stopped at their last meeting. "Hm," +he sniffed at his old enemy, "I take it, Captain +Standish has other things to do than gossip about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span> +me to your father. You lied to me, Francis Billington, +when you said he called me the worst boy in +Plymouth, and I'm going to thrash you for that +lie."</p> + +<p>"I was but jesting," vowed Francis.</p> + +<p>Miles, with his aggressive fists, smote the boy and +rolled him in the sand. "I'm jesting too, now," he +said grimly.</p> + +<p>Francis fled howling home, and Miles, with his +shoulders well back, swung away to the corn-field. +"I <i>had</i> to beat Francis," he assured himself, "but +now I'll not fight nor run from labor any more, but +bear me well, because I am to go live with the +Captain soon."</p> + +<p>But Miles's "soon" proved, after all, a long, and, +in some ways, a cheerless time. There were many +days still to spend in his guardian's house, where +Mistress Hopkins scolded at his carelessness, where +Master Hopkins bade him work when he had +thought to win an hour's playtime, and where more +than once, sorry to tell, Master Miles himself +strayed wantonly into mischief and was sternly but +justly punished therefor.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, now that he had a big, pleasant +hope to live forward to, he found it easier to bear +what was not to his liking in the present. After +all, when he tried, it was not so difficult as he had +thought to do Master Hopkins's bidding, Miles<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> +told himself, and never realized how much easier it +was for him to perform his tasks, while Ned Lister, +still sulky and subdued from his public punishment, +was working fiercely and would not pause to idle +with him.</p> + +<p>Thus in little, dull labors and the large pleasure +of looking forward, the muggy August days panted +out their course and the September twilights shortened. +A long, secure time of peace it was for the +settlement, in which there fell but one incident,—an +expedition which ten of the Plymouth men undertook +far up the coast to the Bay of the Massachusetts, +where they traded for skins and made a +league with the Indians. Ned, who was one of the +company,—because, Giles Hopkins told Miles, +laughingly, he was held too much of a firebrand to +be left behind,—came home with something of his +old braggart manner, and told big stories that set +young Rigdale wild with envy. Why could not +he be a man at once, a full-sized man with a musket, +and go with the Captain to trade or fight with the +savages?</p> + +<p>But presently there was manly work in which +Miles shared, for with the rare October days came +the time of harvesting, when, as in the weeks of +planting, every man and boy in the colony must +bear a part. It was good weather to work, though, +with nothing of the sickly heat of the April days,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span> +but a bracing air nerved every muscle, and the sky +was deep and clear.</p> + +<p>Miles liked the stir and freshness of trudging to +the fields, one of the whole company, in the awakening +cool hours of the morning. His task at first +was to follow after the reapers in the barley field +and gather the heavy stalks of the bearded grain +into sheaves. Then after the barley, as the days +grew shorter, they harvested the corn, a toilsome +labor, that soon became irksome to Miles, whose +part was to sit all day under cover, amidst the stiff +stalks and rustling leaves, and husk the ears till his +arms ached and his fingers were sore. By and by, +when the corn was dried, he foresaw he should have +to help shell the kernels from all those ears, and he +sighed a little, as he watched the pile rise high.</p> + +<p>Yet at heart he knew that, like all the others in +the settlement, he was glad for the great heap of +yellow ears. It had been a fruitful harvest; the +pease, to be sure, had withered in the blossom, but +the increase of corn and barley was so great that +there was no fear lest the colony go hungry that +winter. Men's faces were soberly elate, and even +Master Hopkins relaxed his customary sternness.</p> + +<p>But Mistress Hopkins had a mighty grievance, +for Governor Bradford, after the harvest all was +garnered, set apart a week as a time of special rejoicing. +"That means in a community of men,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span> +even of the most godly, a week of feasting," she +lamented. "And who is it shall prepare the food +but we ten poor women and maids of the colony?"</p> + +<p>To Miles, however, a week of feasting sounded +pleasant; he only wished he were Ned Lister, for +the Governor sent him and three of the other men +fowling to get provisions for the merrymaking. In +a day the four killed near enough to last the company +a week,—a great, feathery heap of woodcocks, +pigeons, quails, and plump wild turkeys. Miles +shared in the work of plucking the birds, and, for +the rest, he fetched wood, armful by armful, for the +great fires that blazed out-of-doors, and he ran dares +with the other boys, who should go farthest in +among the blazing brands, till Goodwife Billington +bore down upon them, and, chancing to collar her +own son, cuffed him mercilessly.</p> + +<p>He tugged buckets of water, too, for the endless +boilings and stewings, till his back ached, but he +minded it little, for this was holiday time. The +October air was crisp; there was plenty to eat,—meat, +and bread of the fresh corn meal; and, all the +time, the zest of strangeness was added to the jubilation +by the coming of hordes of Indians to share +the English cheer.</p> + +<p>The third day Massasoit presented himself, with +ninety hungry warriors, whereat not only Mistress +Hopkins but cheerful Priscilla Mullins was in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> +despair. But his Majesty did his part in supplying +provisions, for next morning some of his men went +into the forest and returned with five fat deer, which +he bestowed, as seemed to Miles most fitting, on +the Captain and the Governor. They were, however, +roasted for the behoof of the whole company, +and on the last day of the feast, after the Captain +had drilled his little troop before the King to do +him honor, the Plymouth people and their guests +ate of good venison.</p> + +<p>The tables were spread in the fields, and Miles +held it a notable distinction that he and Giles were +bidden by the Captain wait at the one where he sat, +with Massasoit and the Governor and others of the +chiefs of the red men and white. Miles carried the +platters of meat thither, with all the decorum of +which he was master, and hoped that Standish might +throw a word to him, so his happiness was final +when, on his last trip to the table, the Captain called +him to his side. He was sitting at the left hand of +the Governor, where the light from the afternoon +sun struck athwart his face, and over opposite him +sat King Massasoit, greasy as ever, but now monarch-like +in a great robe of skins.</p> + +<p>It was to him that Standish spoke, in words of +the Indian tongue of which Miles caught only +one or two. But the Captain answered his questioning +look: "His Majesty was pleased to crave a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> +sight of you, Miles. Truth, you put him to stir +enough last July. It was he who, when he got +tidings from Manomet, despatched the order thither +that no hurt should be done you, and sent us word +where to seek you."</p> + +<p>"Did he do so much, sir?" Miles asked, and, +gazing at the stolid Indian, made him a grateful +bow. "I should like to tell him 'thank you,'" he +added. "If Squanto would say it for me,—or +you."</p> + +<p>Then he tramped back again to the fire to take +his own share of the feast, a large turkey leg which +Constance had saved for him, and, whether it were +overmuch turkey or overmuch labor, he was too +tired even to rise and witness the departure of the +Indians after the board was cleared, for all he knew +the musketeers would fire them a parting volley. +'Twas toilsome work, this merrymaking, he agreed +with Priscilla, and, going weary and cross to bed, he +was glad to awake to the Sabbath quiet of the little +village, and, on the ensuing morning, drop once +more into the ordered round of duties.</p> + +<p>There was naught to do in the following days +but to make ready against the coming winter, by +mending the cottages till every crevice was secure, +and fetching good supply of firewood from the +distant hills. A hint of wintry weather now was +in the chill air and the lead-colored sky, so, one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> +November afternoon, Miles spent hours in hunting +for his mittens that had gone astray.</p> + +<p>Together he and Constance and Giles opened, in +the search, the little chest that had been Goodman +Rigdale's; it gave Miles a dull pang to turn over +the clothes his father and mother had worn, but +somehow all that sorrow seemed to have fallen very +long ago. "Yet 'tis not a year since we sailed into +the harbor," he said softly.</p> + +<p>"Just a year to-morrow since we sighted Cape +Cod," answered Giles, and Constance changed +Miles's thoughts by adding: "The other ship with +our fresh supply should come now very speedily; +in about a month I heard father say we might look +for her. I hope there'll be cattle come in her; +'tis hard for the babies to have not a drop of +milk."</p> + +<p>"And no butter," sighed Miles, thinking of himself. +"And if they bring oxen, 'twill be easier +ploughing, come spring; and there'll be more men +to fight—"</p> + +<p>"There'll be two more next spring, in any case," +Giles interrupted. "Captain Standish says that then +Bart Allerton and I shall have muskets of our own +and be enrolled in his company."</p> + +<p>In the days since the landing at Plymouth, Giles +had grown a responsible youth, but Miles, who had +been so much with him that he held himself near as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> +old, was quite jealous at his last speech and wondered +if no one would offer him a musket.</p> + +<p>He took himself forth from the chamber into the +living room, where Ned Lister, who was cleaning +his fowling piece and was in a good temper, as he +usually was when he was busied over his weapons, +let him meddle in the work till his fingers were +blacked. "I'm going northward to-morrow morning, +where Squanto tells me a flock of geese are +astir," Ned spoke further. "If Master Hopkins is +willing, I'll take you with me, Miley; 'tis months +since we've gone about any labor together."</p> + +<p>Disappointingly, Master Hopkins was not willing, +for, when he came to his supper, he had to +report an evil rumor, which one of Miles's old enemies, +the Nauset Indians, had just brought to the +town, that a great ship had been seen on their +coast. It might be some English trader, or it +might be a French ship of war, come to dispossess +the colonists, just as the English had driven the +French, at an earlier time, from their northern settlements.</p> + +<p>Still, even if 'twere a Frenchman, Ned argued, +men must eat, and must kill their food ere they +could eat it, so, at the last, his master said he might +go fowling, and even, if he did not roam too far, +take Miles with him.</p> + +<p>Early next morning the two hunters set out in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> +lively spirits, in spite of the fact that the woods +were sombre and the sky rough with clouds that +looked, should they thrust a hand deep into them, +as if they would strike something hard and cold. +Already there had been bitter frosts, and the thick +fallen leaves, on the northward trail, rustled crisply +beneath the tread of the fowlers. Ned wore his +red cap, which blazed out bravely under the dull +trees, and his buff-jacket, too, which gave him the +martial look he liked. Miles had no such warlike +equipments, but Ned generously suffered him to +carry the fowling piece, so he felt quite like a soldier. +"I do but wish the French would come +upon us now," he panted boastfully, as he shouldered +the gun.</p> + +<p>"There's small danger you'll find a Frenchman, +unless you cross the water to seek him," Ned answered. +"I'll do it, so soon as my time's out. Go +into Bohemia and fight—" There he turned off +into discourse on the joys of a life where a man +never fetched and carried, but handled a sword +like a gentleman, which lasted them for a mile along +the bare trail.</p> + +<p>By then they came from among the leafless trees +of the level land to a thick piny growth at the base +of a tall hill, that blocked off sight of the ocean. +Ned was for climbing it out of hand, for, on the +other side, by the shore, he thought to find the wild<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span> +fowl, so up he scrambled, quite nimbly, since he +had long legs and tramped unburdened, while Miles +toiled after with the fowling piece. A mighty steep +hill, where the pine needles lay slippery, so Miles +stumbled and near fell, and, when he came at last to +the little barren stretch of the summit, where the +lowering sky seemed to bend down to him, he +could only drop flat and lie panting.</p> + +<p>Ned cast himself down beside him, although he +did not seem weary, and, half smiling at Miles's +breathlessness, let his eyes at last turn seaward. +Lying back, Miles, too, looked out upon the gray +water, beneath the hill, that far away to eastward +merged into the gray sky, and then a sudden exclamation +made him glance at his companion.</p> + +<p>Ned was sitting erect with his hand shading his +eyes, and the lines of his face were sharpened with a +sudden tenseness. "What d'ye see?" Miles began +carelessly, but the other, springing to his feet, spoke +to him in a curt tone: "Jump you up, Miles. +Look yonder, if you see aught in the offing."</p> + +<p>Ned's hands turned Miles's head eastward, but, +though the boy yielded himself obediently and +gazed whither he was told, he saw only dull water +and brooding sky. Yet he was beginning to guess +the meaning of it all, and, with the heart fluttering +into his throat, he cried, "Ned, sure, you do not +think—that French ship—"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span></p> + +<p>But Lister, wheeling about, had reached in two +strides a tall pine tree that spired from the summit +of the hill, and, grasping its lower branches, swung +himself upward from bough to bough. His cap +showed very red against the green of the pine +needles, and Miles watched it go bobbing toward +the tree top, with a mind so suddenly dulled that +he could think of nothing else, till at last the young +man, holding fast by one arm, swayed at the topmost +point of the pine tree.</p> + +<p>A long minute Ned clung there, staring seaward +with his face sober, then headlong slipped and +scrambled from the tree. "It's a sail, true enough," +he cried, and, as the words left his lips, came to the +ground with a crashing fall that made the branches +sway.</p> + +<p>Before Miles could reach his side, Ned sprang +to his feet, stood a moment, took a single step, and +then toppled over again across the roots of the pine, +with his face working in a manner that frightened +his companion. "Are you hurt? What is it, Ned?" +he cried.</p> + +<p>"Naught but my ankle," groaned Lister, struggling +to a sitting posture. "I've wrenched the +cursed thing. Tut, tut, tut! Don't waste time +here by me. Run to Plymouth. Tell them the +ship's in sight."</p> + +<p>"The Frenchman?" gasped Miles.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span></p> + +<p>"How can I tell, when 'tis four league off shore?" +snapped Ned. "'Tis a ship, and that's enough. +Run along with you, briskly!" Then, spite of the +pain, there came a sort of softening to his face. +"You're not afeard to go back along the trail alone, +Miley?"</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 320px;"> +<img src="images/i_331.jpg" width="320" height="500" alt="boy running in woods" /> +<div class="caption">"The breath came gripingly in his throat."</div> +</div> + +<p>"I've been in woods before now," cried the +boy, indignantly. "But—but if I go, what will +you do?"</p> + +<p>"Sit here and take tobacco," Ned answered, in +his swaggering tone, and, with his hand a little +unsteady, drew his pipe from his pocket. "Give +me the fowling piece near to me, and now run your +briskest, d'ye hear? Off with you, heavy-heels, +unless you be afraid!"</p> + +<p>The taunt more than all else sent Miles plunging +headlong down the hill. The needles slipped beneath +his shoes, and his knees jarred with the steepness +of the descent. Once he tripped, and, falling, +rolled over and over, and rose up in fear lest he had +hurt himself like Ned. But he could run well +enough, he found, as he stumbled into the more +level part of the trail. His briskest, and warn the +Plymouth folk, Ned bade, and suddenly Miles's +heart gave a great leap that he was to do so soldierly +a part in the Captain's sight. He drew a big breath, +and, bending his head, dashed down the trail.</p> + +<p>The dry twigs snapped beneath his feet; a frightened<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span> +quail, with a startling whir, flew across his +path; the branches, as he rushed by them, wavered +and shook. Below him the ground reeled and the +sky above was shot with black; the breath came +gripingly in his throat, and a pain like that of a +piercing iron bored into his side.</p> + +<p>Downhill, where the ground seemed not to be +beneath him, and in the hollow splashed a brook. +He felt the chill of the water over his ankle as he +thrust his foot into it, and, stopping a moment, +he plunged his head, that ached to bursting, into +the icy ripples, then, gasping, staggered up the +opposite slope.</p> + +<p>He was running heavily now, so it scarcely could +be called running, swaying from side to side of the +trail, but more than half, than three quarters, of the +way was out. The trees dwindled about him; yonder +were cleared fields; yonder the smoke rose from +cottage chimneys. Now the stubble of corn was +stiff beneath his feet; now he crashed through a +little patch of brambles; and at last, thrusting his +hands gropingly before him, he pitched up against +the door of Captain Standish's cottage. "Open!" +he called, but his voice came in a mere whisper.</p> + +<p>Within, they heard him, however. The door was +flung open; he fell against Master Winslow; and +yonder by the table he had sight of the Governor +and the Elder and Master Hopkins and the Captain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span> +himself, starting up from the conference he had +interrupted. Miles reeled forward a step or two +and caught Standish's arm. "Captain Standish," +he gasped, "the ship—the French—we saw it +from the hill—the French are in the offing."</p> + +<p>Then his knees gave way and the room whirled +round. A blackness was about him in which he +heard faintly the questions and re-questions of +the men, the clatter of the house-door, a calling +in the street. Then thunderously, subduing all +other sound, he heard the crash of the great gun +upon the Fort Hill that called home from labor the +men who should defend their settlement.</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII<br /> + +<small>THE CAPTAIN'S SOLDIER</small></h2> + + +<div class='drop-cap'>LYING upon his own bed, whither Master +Hopkins had carried him, Miles harked +to the rattle of eager drumsticks in the +street, the hurried rush of footsteps, the shrill calls +of boys. Nearer, in the living room, he could hear +Mistress Hopkins's frightened tones, and the clatter +of swords as Master Hopkins and Dotey armed +themselves.</div> + +<p>Presently heavy footsteps came toward him, and +Master Hopkins, with his buff-jacket half fastened, +opened the door of the chamber to question him +further of Ned. "He's hurt, and he made me to +leave him," panted Miles. "And the Frenchmen +will find him, and can you not send some one to +help him, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Unless Edward Lister's neck is broke, I'll trust +him to shift for himself till we have space to look to +him," Master Hopkins answered with a grim sort of +chuckle, and just there the house-door banged open +and upon it Miles heard Giles's eager voice, "Father, +may I not carry Ned's musket, since he is not here?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span> +Bart Allerton has one; the Captain himself said all +who could fight should get under arms."</p> + +<p>Miles struggled up, with head still dizzy. "I +can fight too," he murmured, but the older folk, +without heeding him, tramped forth with their +weapons and left him to Constance and her stepmother. +But the women had terrified thoughts to +keep them busy, so busy they took no note when +presently Miles, quite recovered from his run, slipped +off the bed and darted from the house.</p> + +<p>Out-of-doors the men were rallying in haste to +the shore, among them John Alden, whom Miles +hailed shrilly from the house-yard: "John Alden, +O John! May I have your fowling piece to fight +with?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, take it," Alden called, without looking +round, and Miles, forgetting he was weary, scudded +his fastest up the hill.</p> + +<p>He was to have a gun and fight, even if it was +no more than a fowling piece, he told himself, and, +in a happy flutter that set at naught the Frenchmen, +he clambered on the table in the Captain's +living room and dragged down the fowling piece +from the wall. He longed to take also the rapier +from the chimneypiece, but he had no right, so, +contenting himself with the gun, he hurried forth to +do his part.</p> + +<p>A gray day and a strange day; high noon, yet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span> +not dinner time, for the whole order of life was +broken, and beyond lay—no one knew what. But +Miles thought on the fighting, and, with his pulses +leaping, clambered to the gun platform, where a +squad was stationed, and, ready as the best of them, +gazed out upon the ocean. There, sure enough, +loomed larger and larger a speck of white.</p> + +<p>Captain Standish had gone down to the other +men on the bluff by the landing, so presently Miles +ran after him. He carried his fowling piece over +his shoulder valiantly, and he stopped at the Elder's +cottage to call to Dolly not to be afraid, and he +wondered at Mistress Brewster's alarmed face.</p> + +<p>The men on the bluff, too, looked grave and anxious, +and the Captain's voice was sharp and stern. +But the boys who were allowed muskets, albeit their +faces were decorously sober, looked very happy, and +handled their weapons with such pride that Miles +grew ashamed of his paltry fowling piece.</p> + +<p>"You might let <i>me</i> have the musket a little time, +Giles," he murmured to young Hopkins, who stood +beside him on the northern slope of the bluff, where +they were watching the horizon. "Surely, I could +manage it, and 'tis Ned's, anyway, and he is my +friend."</p> + +<p>Giles preserved an elderly, careworn silence, and +puckered his brows upon the ominous east, when +suddenly from behind them shrilled a whistle.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span> +Miles guessed who it was before he turned, so, +though Giles and some of the others cried out in +surprise, he thought it quite a matter of course when +he saw Ned Lister coming across the fields to the +bluff.</p> + +<p>Ned walked at a leisurely limp, with his fowling +piece over his shoulder, and his cap on one side; it +was not till he came nearer that Miles saw, too, that +his clothes were muddied and stuck with briers and +leaves, and his face was white to his lips, that were +set in a hard line. "Well," he greeted his fellow-colonists +civilly, "did you think I meant to sit +there in the bushes till you chose to come seek +me?"</p> + +<p>There he staggered a little, so Dotey caught hold +of him, and just then Standish, striding through the +thin ranks of his company, came up. "How did +you get hither, Lister?" he asked, with whatever +surprise may have been his well in check.</p> + +<p>"I walked," Ned answered, and then, as he saw +the Captain's eyes upon his muddied jacket, he +began to laugh oddly. "That is, sir, sometimes I +rolled and otherwhiles I crawled. For I did not +wish to be gulled of the fight. And—Giles Hopkins, +you thief! give me my musket."</p> + +<p>"My father said I might—" Giles began, unruly +for once, but there a sudden sound of cheering on +the hilltop cut short the dispute. A man—Gilbert<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span> +Winslow, they saw—came running break-neck +down the steep street, and, so far as he could be +heard, called to them, "English, an English ship!" +and then those on the bluff, too, took up the +cheering.</p> + +<p>It was the sailor Trevor, who, from the Fort Hill, +had watched the ship grow larger till he vowed that +he could make out that she was rigged in the English +fashion. Still the Captain held his force together +on the bluff till the stranger's nationality +should be assured past doubt, and, meantime, he +bade Dotey and Giles help Ned Lister to the house. +"And see that he stays there," the Captain added +dryly.</p> + +<p>So Ned, turned limp and unresisting of a sudden, +staggered away between the two, and Miles, though +he would fain have watched till the ship should loom +up round the beach point, thought friendship required +that he should follow after with the musket.</p> + +<p>When he returned to the landing place, many +minutes later, there was no longer a doubt or a +fear, for the flag of England fluttered from the +vessel's mast. The ship <i>Fortune</i>, with the reënforcements +for the colony, that was not expected for +a month more, was casting anchor in Plymouth +Harbor.</p> + +<p>That afternoon seemed all a hazy dream. With +a feeling that he must be some one else, Miles<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span> +watched the men make ready the shallop, saw it go +dipping across the gray harbor, and lie to beside the +great ship. He saw the first boatload of the newcomers +pull in to the landing rock, and he gazed +shyly and yet gladly at the faces of the men and +women who were to be his townsfolk. Elder +Brewster's grown up son came with them, and there +were many other young men, and a few older, and +several women, but there were very few children +among them.</p> + +<p>At last, however, Miles and Jack found among +the newcomers a boy but little older than themselves, +so at once they made up to him and found +that his name was Thomas Cushman. And because +he had looked on ships and sea till he was weary of +them, they led him away from the harbor, and showed +him the spring and the Fort Hill, and laughed at him +because he was so certain he should see an Indian at +each turning, and Miles bragged to him mightily of +his experiences among the savages of the Cape.</p> + +<p>It was near dusk when they came down again +through the village, where the last boatload from +the ship had just landed. The street seemed fairly +thronged with folk, and out to sea a light sparkled +on the quarter-deck of the <i>Fortune</i>, just as it used +to shine upon the <i>Mayflower</i>.</p> + +<p>Feeling secure and happy, Miles bade his new +friend Thomas good night, and walked home to his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span> +supper. "Bring firewood; we've many people to +eat with us to-night," Constance called to him from +the doorway, so he trudged on to the woodpile, +where he picked out a good armful of the piny logs, +to make a brave blaze for the friends who had come +from England.</p> + +<p>His face, as he worked, was toward the west, +where showed a smear of red, which the sun, struggling +forth just ere his setting, had left behind. +Miles gazed on the gay fleck, that yet was lonely in +the wide sky, till a step near at hand startled him, +and, turning, he faced Master Hopkins.</p> + +<p>"Lay aside that wood, Miles; I have to speak +with you," his guardian greeted him; and Miles +dropped the wood and wondered what he had done +wrong. "Pray you, sir, John Alden told me I +might take that fowling piece," he offered his +excuses.</p> + +<p>"Am I always so severe that you look for naught +but chiding from me, Miles?" Master Hopkins +said sternly, yet with something half wistful in his +tone. "I would but say to you that Captain +Standish has long urged me to let you be one of +his household, and I have as long withstood him. +For all he is a brave gentleman, he is not of the +faith in which your father lived. But he has urged +me strongly this day, and you, too, Miles, you bore +yourself fairly this morning; you have tried to bear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span> +yourself well these last weeks, I can see. 'Tis possible +that you will not suffer Miles Standish to spoil +you with lax discipline, and in matters of faith you +cannot go very far astray in this colony. So I think +it safe now to leave this matter to your own decision. +You may stay in my house, or go unto the Captain."</p> + +<p>Miles breathed quickly and cracked a bit of bark +between his fingers. "Am I to decide now, sir?" +he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, now. There is a kinsman of Mistress +Hopkins's come on the <i>Fortune</i> who will take your +place in my household if you go. But you need +not go for that. As long as I have a house, there +is a place for you therein, if you elect to stay."</p> + +<p>It seemed an easy thing to say, he knew what he +desired, yet when Master Hopkins stood looking +gravely down at him and waiting for his answer, +Miles found it hard to give. "I—I— You've +been good to me, after all, sir," he faltered. "I'm +sorry I've vexed you so many times. I—"</p> + +<p>"In short, you wish to go to the Captain," +Master Hopkins interrupted. "Very well, Miles +Rigdale. Be it as you wish."</p> + +<p>Then he walked away, and Miles, gathering up +his armful of wood for the last time, wondered that, +now he had his desire, he felt a half sorrow that it +was granted him.</p> + +<p>But when he entered the house, different thoughts<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span> +came to him. All was stir and bustle within, for +Mistress Hopkins was cooking supper for the men +with sea-appetites, who were to eat there that night, +and suddenly Miles felt it quite a part of the day's +upheaval that he should leave his old home. All +afire with the pleasure of it, he went into the chamber, +where he tied up his few clothes in his cloak.</p> + +<p>Ned Lister, who was stretched upon his bed, +pulled himself up on his elbow to watch him. "So +you're going to live with the Captain, Miley," he +repeated the boy's news. "Well, it's far better that +you should; there'll be no one in his house to lead +you into mischief." Ned's face grew serious and he +was silent a moment, then broke out, "On my soul, +I have liked you, lad, and I shall miss you."</p> + +<p>"I shall see you every day," Miles answered, setting +himself down on the edge of the bed.</p> + +<p>"Hm!" Lister retorted. "Your Captain doesn't +like me, Miles. Though he did trouble himself to +see how I was faring, when he came to speak with +Hopkins this afternoon; after all, he's a good fellow, +though I've no liking for the punishments he +gives. But that'll change now. There's a pack of +jolly good fellows come in the <i>Fortune</i>, they say, will +keep him busy. Plague of this ankle! I might 'a' +gone out and made friends with them, and I'm sick +to have speech again with an ungodly rascal like +myself."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span></p> + +<p>Just there Constance pushed open the door and +came in to bring Ned his supper, so Miles gathered +up his bundle to go forth. But Constance had to +kiss him good-bye, right before Ned, and tell him +to come back often. "I will," Miles promised +soberly. "You've been good to me, Constance, +and—and if 'twill help you, I'll come tend Damaris—once +in a while."</p> + +<p>"No, you shan't, dear, ever again," Constance +said, laughing, and pushed him out of the room.</p> + +<p>He took the Bible that had been his father's +from the chimneypiece, and, while Mistress Hopkins +was busy talking to her kinsman, a grave young +man who found no opportunity to answer her, +thought to slip quietly out of the house. But +Elizabeth Hopkins spied him. "Where are your +manners, child, that you cannot say 'God be wi' +you'?" she assailed him. "After what I've borne +from your carelessness, Miles, and I'm sure your +clothes never will be tidily mended now, and—"</p> + +<p>But there Miles got the door open and scampered +away. Trug came leaping at his heels, and, fast as +if Mistress Hopkins were likely to pursue him, he +ran till he reached the Captain's very dooryard, and +was quite breathless when he opened the door.</p> + +<p>Inside, the candles were lit, the meat was on the +table, and the Captain and Alden and four of the +newcomers were making their supper and talking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span> +heartily the while. At the noise of the opening +door they all faced about, and Miles felt shy and +abashed. "If it like you, Captain Standish," he +stammered, "Master Hopkins said I could come, +so I came."</p> + +<p>"And you are right welcome, Miles," Standish +said quickly. "We looked for you to-night. Put +down your bundle and come to the table. Let +your dog come in, too."</p> + +<p>Miles slipped into a cranny on the form between +Alden and a black-haired young man named De la +Noye. It was a roast duck they had for supper, +and the men fed Trug right at table, and they talked +a deal, of Indians and of hunting and of planting, +and then, as the Captain and Alden guided the conversation, +of the Parliament and of the Spanish influence +and the war in the Palatinate, till, spite of +the excitement of the evening, Miles's head nodded, +and at heart he was glad when at length, long after +the sober bedtime hour of Plymouth, the men +cleared the table hastily and went to their rest.</p> + +<p>The newcomers were bidden lie that night in the +bedroom, since two of them still were weak with seasickness, +but Alden and the Captain were to sleep +in the living room, so Miles silently elected to stay +with them, and he was glad when the chamber door +closed behind the strangers.</p> + +<p>"So you've a mind to share the floor with us,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span> +Miles?" the Captain asked, as he threw off his +doublet.</p> + +<p>"'Tis like a soldier to sleep where 'tis hard," +Miles confessed shyly.</p> + +<p>Standish smiled a little. "We'll surely make a +fighting man of you, Miles, or you'll make one of +yourself. 'Twas a pretty race you ran alone this +morning, your friend Lister told me."</p> + +<p>"Lister made a stout march of it, too," put in +Alden, who had already rolled himself in his blanket +and settled down on the floor.</p> + +<p>"There's more mettle in that rapscallion than +I judged," Standish answered thoughtfully, and +then: "Lie you down, Miles. Eh? No blanket? +Here, take my cloak; 'tis ample enough for you."</p> + +<p>Indeed, it was, and very brave and martial, too. +Miles curled himself up in it, and liked the manly +hardness of the floor beneath his shoulders. He +closed his eyes and half dozed, then, hearing Alden's +voice, roused up a little.</p> + +<p>"Captain," the young man was speaking softly, +"there's not an ounce of extra provisions in the +<i>Fortune</i>."</p> + +<p>From the neighboring corner where Standish had +stretched himself came a non-committal "Um."</p> + +<p>"And half these young fellows are equipped with +nothing but the clothes they stand in; they gambled +away their very cloaks, when the ship touched at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span> +Plymouth in Devonshire." There was silence in +the living room for a time, before Alden resumed, +"We had enough to do in the colony before, sir; +now what shall we do with these?"</p> + +<p>"Why, some we'll set to ploughing and some we'll +set to fight the Indians," said Standish. "And +those that will neither plough nor fight, we'll pack +home to England. We've no use for idlers here."</p> + +<p>Then again there was silence in the living room, +and the embers in the fireplace gleamed red, and +once, leaping into flame, set black shadows fluttering +on the wall. "We've no use for idlers," Miles +repeated to himself. "But I'll work as mother +would wish me to, now I am in the Captain's +house."</p> + +<p>He drew the Captain's cloak closer about him, +and thought to amuse himself with pretending he +was a true soldier, like the Captain, sleeping in his +military cloak out under the stars, but the reality +pleased him better than the fancy. He lay with his +eyes wide open, smiling at the embers. "The Captain's +house," he repeated. "And I shall stay here +always."</p> + + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<div class='tnote'><div class='center'><b>Transcriber's Notes:</b></div> + +<p>Obvious punctuation errors repaired. Author spells "rendezvous" +as the archaic "randevous".</p></div> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44165 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |