On Monday the captains of the expedition repaired to the court of Canonicus, the patriarch and ruler of the Narragansetts, where the young and fiery Miantonomoh, with the chief men of the tribe, about 200 in number, were solemnly assembled for consultation. The English informed them, “that God assisting, they were going to revenge the blood shed by their mutual enemies.” “Your design,” said Miantonomoh, “is good, but your numbers are too weak to brave the Pequods, who have mighty chieftains, and are skilful in battle.” On the Tuesday they began their march toward the Pequod country, accompanied by a considerable number of Indian allies, 200 being furnished by Miantonomoh, who all boasted of their bravery, despising the English as “men who would not dare to look a Pequod in the face.” Approaching, under the guidance of a Pequod deserter, a ford in the river where it was said these terrible Indians came to fish, a panic fear overcame the boastful Narragansetts, and they fled; Uncas, however, and his Indians stood true. The Pequods had two strongholds, both of which the English wished to attack at the same time, but on account of the distance between them and their own small force it was found impracticable. They encamped, therefore, between two little hills, much wearied with hard travel, keeping deep silence, lest the Indians in the nearest fort should perceive their approach. “The night was still and moonlight, and though the rocks were their pillows,” says Mason, in his quaint narrative, “their rest was pleasant.” In the night they heard the Indians singing at their fort, and exulting over the English, who, having been seen to sail past them a few days before, they believed to be afraid of them.