"If you follow my counsel," the captain was saying, "you will plant over the spot where we have laid so many of our company. Thus far we hardly are aware of our savage neighbours, but with the warm weather they will come forth from their woodlands, and who knows what may befall us from them? Better, say I, conceal from them that no more than half of those who sailed hither are here to-day. Better hide from their eyes beneath the tall maize the graves on yonder hillside." "Well said, good counsel, Captain Myles," said Stephen Hopkins. "God's acre, the folk of parts of Europe call the enclosure of their dead. We will make our acre God's acre, planting it doubly for our protection, in grain for our winter need, concealment of our devastation." Suddenly the air was rent with a piercing shriek, and little Love Brewster, the Elder's seven-year-old son, came tumbling into the house, shaking and inarticulate with terror. Priscilla Mullins caught him into her lap and tried to sooth him and discover the cause of his fright, but he only waved his little hands frantically and sobbed beyond all possibility of guessing what words were smothered beneath the sobs. "Elder Brewster promised to let the child pass the afternoon with Damaris," began Mrs. Hopkins, but before she got farther John Alden started up. "Look there," he said. "Is it wonderful that Love finds the sight beyond him?" [Illustration: "'Look there,' said John Alden"] Stalking toward the house in all the awful splendour of paint, feathers, beads, and gaudy blanket came a tall savage. He had, of course, seen the child and realized his fright and that he had run to alarm the pilgrims, but not a whit did it alter the steady pace at which he advanced, looking neither to left nor to right, his arms folded upon his breast, no sign apparent of whether he came in friendship or in enmity. The first instinct of the colonists, in this first encounter with an Indian near to the settlement was to be prepared in case he came in enmity. Several of the men reached for the guns which hung ready on the walls, and took them down, examining their horns and rods as they handled them. But the savage, standing in the doorway, made a gesture full of calm dignity which the pilgrims rightly construed to mean salutation, and uttered a throaty sound that plainly had the same import. "Welcome!" hazarded Myles Standish advancing with outstretched hand upon the new-comer, uncertain how to begin his acquaintance, but hoping this might be pleasing. "Yes," said the Indian in English, to the boundless surprise of the Englishmen. "Yes, welcome, friend!" He took Captain Standish's hand. "Chief?" he asked. "Samoset," he added, touching his own breast, and thus introducing himself. "How in the name of all that is wonderful did he learn English!" cried Stephen Hopkins.