But there was one among them into whose breast the wrong sank deepest, for it called him to avenge not only a chief but a brother. That brother was known in colonial history as Philip of Pocanoket. The story of Philip has been variously told, some looking upon him as a crafty savage loving the wiles and cruelty of Indian warfare and fighting with no other object than immediate success; others as an Indian patriot contending for the independence of his country. In either case, if we judge him by the standard of his own people, he was a great ruler in peace and a valiant leader in war. We are told that it was a sore grief to the young sachem to see the white man daily taking a firmer hold of the soil, and the red man melting before him. But how could the march of the invader be stayed? The arrow was a feeble weapon with which to oppose the firelock, the tomahawk even in the strongest hand was no match for the sabre. The foresight, judgment, method and power of combination of the white man enabled him to provide for the future while making wise provision for the present. While he was well supplied with food, the Indian was starving. While he was warmly clad, the Indian was exposed almost naked to the rudest blasts of winter. Philip saw the danger and resolved to face it. His first step was to secure allies by winning over the neighboring tribes. It was a broad field for diplomacy, wherein Indian not Christian ethics prevailed, and was well suited to his bold and wily nature. Yet with all his wiles he could not so completely cover his track as not to excite the suspicions of the English. He was summoned to Plymouth and closely questioned. But the hour for action was not yet come and he succeeded in allaying suspicions by giving up his arms. But treason beset his path. A "praying Indian," as the converts of Eliot were called, who had lived some years with Philip as secretary and counselor, betrayed the secret of the sachem's preparations. The betrayal cost him his life but saved the Colony by compelling Philip to begin his outbreak before his preparations were completed. It is said that when he saw the necessity he cast himself upon the ground and wept bitterly. But there was no escaping it, and collecting his forces he fell upon the settlements with fire and sword, and what was still more dreaded, the scalping knife and tomahawk. The first to feel his fury was the border town of Swanzey, where houses and barns were burnt and nine of the inhabitants put to death and seven wounded. Succor came promptly from Plymouth and Boston. The Indians fell back upon Mount Hope, Philip's favorite seat. Mutilated corpses and burning dwellings marked the track of the pursued. The pursuer looked round him in vain for an enemy. A few dogs prowled round the deserted wigwams, but not an Indian was to be seen.