Church's guide had brought him to a place where a large tree, which the enemy had felled, lay across a stream. Church had gained the top end of the tree, when he espied an Indian on the stump of it, on the other side of the stream. Church, brought his gun to his shoulder and would have shot the Indian, had not one of his own Indians told him not to fire, as he believed it was one of his own men. On hearing voices, the Indian looked about, and the friendly Indian got a glance at his face and discovered that it was Philip. The friendly Indian fired, but too late, for Philip, leaping from the stump, ran down the bank among the bushes and in a moment was out of sight. Church gave chase to him; but he could not be found, though they picked up a few of his followers. King Philip's war had now degenerated into a single man hunt. From this time on, Philip was too closely watched and hotly pursued to escape destruction. His followers deserted him, and he was driven like a wild beast from place to place, until at last he came to his ancient seat near Pokanoket, when one of his men advised making peace. Philip killed him on the spot. The Indian thus slain had a brother named Alderman, who, fearing the same fate, and probably in revenge, deserted Philip, and gave Captain Church an account of his situation and offered to lead him to his camp. Early on Saturday morning, August 12, 1676, Church, with his Indian guide, came to the swamp where Philip was encamped, and, before he was discovered, had placed a guard about it so as to encompass it, except at one place. He then ordered Captain Golding to rush into the swamp and fall upon Philip in his camp, which he immediately did, but was discovered as he approached, and Philip fled. Having been just awakened and being only partially dressed, he ran at full speed, carrying his gun in his hand, and came directly upon the Indian Alderman, who, with a white man, was in ambush at the edge of the swamp. "There comes the devil Philip now!" cried the Englishman, raising his rifle and aiming at the king; but the powder in the pan had become damp, and he missed fire. Immediately Alderman, whose gun was loaded with two balls, fired, sending one bullet through Philip's heart and another not more than two inches from it. He fell upon his face in the mud and water, with his gun under him. The death of Philip ended the bloodiest Indian war at that time known in the New World. A few of his confederates were captured; but there was no more fighting. Philip's son was sold into slavery in Bermuda. So perished the dynasty of Massasoit. CHAPTER XVII. NEARING THE VERGE. At times there come, as come there ought, Grave moments of sedater thought. When fortune frowns, nor lends our night One gleam of her inconstant light: And hope, that decks the peasant's bower, Shines like the rainbow through the shower. --CUNNINGHAM.