Straight there arose from the forest the awful

sound of the war-whoop,

And, like a flurry of snow on the whistling

wind of December,

Swift and sudden and keen came a flight of

feathery arrows..

Then came a cloud of smoke, and out of the cloud came the lightning,

Out of the lightning thunder; and death un

seen ran before it.

Frightened the savages fled for shelter in

swamp and in thicket,

Hotly pursued and beset; but their sachem,

the brave Wattawamat,

Fled not; he was dead. Unswerving and swift

had a bullet

Passed through his brain, and he fell with both hands clutching the greensward,

Seeming in death to hold back from his foe the

land of his fathers.

There on the flowers of the meadow the war

riors lay, and above them,

Silent, with folded arms, stood Hobomok, friend of the white man.

Smiling at length he exclaimed to the stalwart

Captain of Plymouth :

"Pecksuot bragged very loud, of his courage, his strength, and his stature,

Mocked the great Captain, and called him a little man; but I see now

Big enough have you been to lay him speechless before you!"

Thus the first battle was fought and won

by the stalwart Miles Standish.

When the tidings thereof were brought to the

village of Plymouth,

And as a trophy of war the head of the brave

Wattawamat

Scowled from the roof of the fort, which at

once was a church and a fortress,

All who beheld it rejoiced, and praised the

Lord, and took courage.

Only Priscilla averted her face from this spectre

of terror,

Thanking God in her heart that she had not

married Miles Standish;

Shrinking, fearing almost, lest, coming home

from his battles,

He should lay claim to her hand, as the prize and reward of his valor.

VIII.

THE SPINNING-WHEEL.

MONTH after month passed away, and in Au

tumn the ships of the merchants

Came with kindred and friends, with cattle and corn for the Pilgrims.

All in the village was peace; the men were

intent on their labors,

Busy with hewing and building, with garden

plot and with merestead,

Busy with breaking the glebe, and mowing the

grass in the meadows,

Searching the sea for its fish, and hunting the All in the village was peace; but at times the

rumor of warfare

Filled the air with alarm, and the apprehen

sion of danger.

Bravely the stalwart Miles Standish was scouring the land with his forces,

Waxing valiant in fight and defeating the alien

armies,

Till his name had become a sound of fear to

the nations.

Anger was still in his heart, but at times the

remorse and contrition

Which in all noble natures succeed the pas

sionate outbreak,

Came like a rising tide, that encounters the

rush of a river,

Staying its current awhile, but making it bitter

and brackish.

Meanwhile Alden at home had built him a

new habitation,