“Thomas Prence, they say you are a dabster at handling the Bible in prayer-meetings and prophesyings; do you remember how King Rehoboam took counsel as to his dealings with the oppressed people of his realm, and the old men said, ‘Deal softly and kindly with thy servants and they will remain thy servants for aye;’ but with the folly of youth, Rehoboam turned to men with their beards still in the silk, and said, ‘How shall I answer this people?’ and they gave their counsel: ‘Whereas thy father hath beaten them with whips, thou shalt scourge them with scorpions, and if thy father’s yoke was heavy upon their necks, thou shalt add to it until they sink under it.’ The boy king listened to his boy counselors, and the result was that ten tribes of--Pequots, we will call them, became his bloody foes instead of his cheerful servitors. We of Plymouth have held the whip behind our backs”-- “Yet brought it forward at Wessagusset,” interrupted Prence good-humoredly, and in the moment of not displeased silence on Standish’s part, Bradford hurriedly interposed,-- “Nay, Captain, let us hear the letter before we discuss this matter further.” “So be it, Governor; but naught that Master Winthrop can pen or Master Winslow read, clever craftsmen though they be, will fetch my consent to this wholesale slaughter of the Indians, Pequots, Narragansetts, or Pokanokets.” “Will you read, Master Winslow?” asked the governor in a patient voice, and, rather hastily, as if forestalling farther discussion, Winslow proceeded to read aloud the missive of the governor of Massachusetts Bay, who after certain grave greetings proceeded to tell the story, which we will enlarge a little from other sources, of how one John Gallop, founder of the guild of Boston pilots, and occupant of the island bearing his name in Boston Harbor, while trading to the plantation of Saybrooke in the Connecticut Colony, had been attracted by the strange manœuvres of a pinnace lying to off Block Island, and running in that direction recognized her as belonging to John Oldhame, late of Watertown, in the Massachusetts Colony, who had, about a week before, left Boston upon a trading tour, his crew consisting only of two English lads, his kinsmen, and two Narragansett Indians. “John Oldhame must be very drunk to let his craft yaw about in that fashion,” commented Gallop, watching the bark; and his sons, John and James, boys of twelve and fourteen, and Zebedee Palmer, his hired man, who composed the entire ship’s company, dutifully assented, Zebedee suggesting that in the cold March wind then blowing he should not himself object to a drop of something comfortable. “When is the day you would, Zeb?” inquired his master. “But lo you now! There goes a canoe from the pinnace to the shore heavy laden, and manned only by redskins. Be sure there’s some Indian deviltry going on, and though the wind be contrary we will beat down and hail her.”