"The Indians looked on me with a fierce countenance, as much as to say it will be your turn next. They champed cornstalks, which they threw into my hat as I held it in my hand. I smiled on them though my heart ached. I looked on one and another, but could not perceive that any eye pitied me. Presently came a squaw and a little girl and laid down a bag of corn in the ring. The little girl took me by the hand, making signs for me to come out of the circle with them. Not knowing their custom, I supposed they designed to kill me and refused to go. Then a grave Indian came and gave me a pipe and said in English, 'Smoke it,' then he took me by the hand and led me out. My heart ached, thinking myself near my end. But he carried me to a French hut about a mile from the Indian Fort. The Frenchman was not at home, but his wife, who was a squaw, had some discourse with my Indian friend, which I did not understand. We tarried there about two hours, then returned to the Indian village, where they gave me some victuals. Not long after I saw one of my fellow-captives who gave me a melancholy account of their sufferings after I left them. "After some weeks had passed," Gyles continues, "we left this village and went up St. John's river about ten miles to a branch called Medockscenecasis, where there was one wigwam. At our arrival an old squaw saluted me with a yell, taking me by the hair and one hand, but I was so rude as to break her hold and free myself. She gave me a filthy grin, and the Indians set up a laugh and so it passed over. Here we lived on fish, wild grapes, roots, etc., which was hard living for me." Where the one wigwam stood in 1689, there stands today a town of 4,000 people. The stream which Gyles calls Medockscenecasis is the Meduxnakik and the town is Woodstock. On the islands and intervals there, wild grapes and lily roots, butter-nuts and cherries are still to be found, and many generations of boys have wandered with light hearts in quest of them without a thought of the first of white boys, who in loneliness and friendlessness trod those intervals more than two hundred years ago. It seems to have been the custom of the Indians at the beginning of the winter to break up into small parties for the purpose of hunting, and Gyles' description of his first winter's experience will serve to illustrate the hardships commonly endured by the savages.