But instead of going either to Albany or homeward, we must go five miles up the river, and then go over it. Here we abode a while. Here lived a sorry Indian, who spoke to me to make him a shirt. When I had done it, he would pay me nothing. But he living by the riverside, where I often went to fetch water, I would often be putting of him in mind, and calling for my pay: At last he told me if I would make another shirt, for a papoose not yet born, he would give me a knife, which he did when I had done it. I carried the knife in, and my master asked me to give it him, and I was not a little glad that I had anything that they would accept of, and be pleased with. When we were at this place, my master's maid came home; she had been gone three weeks into the Narragansett country to fetch corn, where they had stored up some in the ground. She brought home about a peck and half of corn. This was about the time that their great captain, Naananto, was killed in the Narragansett country. My son being now about a mile from me, I asked liberty to go and see him; they bade me go, and away I went; but quickly lost myself, traveling over hills and through swamps, and could not find the way to him. And I cannot but admire at the wonderful power and goodness of God to me, in that, though I was gone from home, and met with all sorts of Indians, and those I had no knowledge of, and there being no Christian soul near me; yet not one of them offered the least imaginable miscarriage to me. I turned homeward again, and met with my master. He showed me the way to my son. When I came to him I found him not well: and withall he had a boil on his side, which much troubled him. We bemoaned one another a while, as the Lord helped us, and then I returned again. When I was returned, I found myself as unsatisfied as I was before. I went up and down mourning and lamenting; and my spirit was ready to sink with the thoughts of my poor children. My son was ill, and I could not but think of his mournful looks, and no Christian friend was near him, to do any office of love for him, either for soul or body. And my poor girl, I knew not where she was, nor whether she was sick, or well, or alive, or dead. I repaired under these thoughts to my Bible (my great comfort in that time) and that Scripture came to my hand, "Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and He shall sustain thee" (Psalm 55.22).
But instead of going either to Albany or toward home, we had to go five miles upriver and then cross. We stayed there for a while. A wretched Indian lived there, and he asked me to make him a shirt. When I finished the shirt, he would pay me nothing. But he lived by the river, where I often went to fetch water. So I kept reminding him and asking for my pay. At last he said he would give me a knife if I made another shirt for an unborn baby. When I finished the second shirt, he gave me the knife. I brought the knife inside, and my master asked me to give it to him. I was very glad to have anything my captors would accept and be pleased with. While we were staying there, my master's maid came home. She had been away for three weeks in the Narragansett country to fetch corn stored in the ground. She brought home about a peck and a half of corn. This was about the time their great captain, Naananto, was killed in the Narragansett country. My son was now about a mile away, so I asked permission to visit him. My captors told me to go, and I set off. But I soon lost my way among hills and swamps and could not find him. I cannot help marveling at God's wonderful power and goodness to me. Though I was away from where I was staying, I met all sorts of Indians, including strangers. There was no Christian soul near me, yet not one of them offered me the slightest mistreatment. I turned back toward where I was staying and met my master. He showed me the way to my son. When I reached my son, I found him unwell. He also had a boil on his side that troubled him greatly. We mourned together for a while, as the Lord helped us, and then I returned. When I returned, I felt as troubled as before. I walked back and forth, mourning and lamenting. My spirit was ready to sink as I thought of my poor children. My son was ill, and I could not stop thinking about his sorrowful looks. No Christian friend was near him to give loving care to either his soul or his body. And I did not know where my poor girl was, or whether she was sick, well, alive, or dead. With these thoughts, I turned to my Bible, my great comfort at that time. I came upon this passage: "Cast your burden upon the Lord, and he will sustain you" (Psalm 55.22).
But I was fain to go and look after something to satisfy my hunger, and going among the wigwams, I went into one and there found a squaw who showed herself very kind to me, and gave me a piece of bear. I put it into my pocket, and came home, but could not find an opportunity to broil it, for fear they would get it from me, and there it lay all that day and night in my stinking pocket. In the morning I went to the same squaw, who had a kettle of ground nuts boiling. I asked her to let me boil my piece of bear in her kettle, which she did, and gave me some ground nuts to eat with it: and I cannot but think how pleasant it was to me. I have sometime seen bear baked very handsomely among the English, and some like it, but the thought that it was bear made me tremble. But now that was savory to me that one would think was enough to turn the stomach of a brute creature.
But I had to go and look for something to satisfy my hunger. As I walked among the wigwams, I entered one and found a Native woman who was very kind to me. She gave me a piece of bear meat. I put the meat in my pocket and came home. But I could not find a chance to broil it, for fear they would take it from me. So the meat lay in my stinking pocket all that day and night. In the morning I went to the same woman, who had a kettle of groundnuts boiling. I asked her to let me boil my piece of bear meat in her kettle, and she let me. She also gave me some groundnuts to eat with the meat. I cannot help thinking how good that meal tasted to me. I had sometimes seen bear meat very nicely baked among the English. Some people liked it, but the thought of eating bear made me tremble. But now I found it delicious, though one would think it was enough to turn even an animal’s stomach.
One bitter cold day I could find no room to sit down before the fire. I went out, and could not tell what to do, but I went in to another wigwam, where they were also sitting round the fire, but the squaw laid a skin for me, and bid me sit down, and gave me some ground nuts, and bade me come again; and told me they would buy me, if they were able, and yet these were strangers to me that I never saw before.
One bitterly cold day, I could find no room to sit by the fire. I went outside and did not know what to do. But I went into another wigwam, where people were also sitting around the fire. The woman laid a skin out for me and invited me to sit down. She gave me some groundnuts and invited me to come again. She told me they would buy me if they could afford to. Yet these people were strangers I had never seen before.