“I had much confidence with him; he being a notable politician, yet full of merry jests and quibs, and never better pleased than when the like are returned upon him. Among other things he asked me, if in case he were thus dangerously sick, as Massasoit had been, and should send word thereof to Plymouth for medicine, whether the Governor would send it; and if he would, whether I would come therewith to him. To both which I answered, yea; whereat he gave me joyful thanks. “After that, he demanded further how we durst, being but two, come so far into the country. I answered, where was true love there was no fear; and my heart was so upright towards them that, for my own part, I was fearless to come amongst them. “‘But,’ said he, ‘if your love be such, and it bring forth such fruits, how cometh it to pass that when we come to Plymouth, you stand upon your guard, with the mouths of your pieces presented towards us.’ “Whereupon I answered it was the most honorable and respective entertainment we could give them, it being an order amongst us so to receive our best respected friends. And as it was used on the land, so the ships also observed it at sea, which Hobbomak knew and had seen observed. But, shaking his head, he answered that he liked not such salutations.” Noticing that Mr. Winslow asked a blessing upon his food, and returned thanks after partaking of it, he asked him the meaning of the custom. He listened very attentively to Mr. Winslow’s account of the ten commandments and of the Christian religion, and expressed his cordial approval of nearly all. The next day the Pilgrims continued their journey, and lodged that night at Middleborough. The next day, when they had reached about half way home, they met two Indians, who informed them that Captain Standish had that morning set sail for Massachusetts, but that contrary winds had driven him back. Upon their arrival, they found Captain Standish waiting for a fair wind to resume his voyage. It was the latter part of February. The news from the Weston colony was continually becoming more disastrous. These wretched adventurers were sinking into degradation almost beneath that of the savages. John Sanders had taken the Swan, and, with a small crew, had sailed for the coast of Maine, hoping to obtain some food from the fishermen there. The religionless rabble, left behind, sold their clothes and bed coverings for food. They became servants to the insolent Indians, cutting wood and bringing water to them for a cup full of corn. They stole, night and day, from the Indians. Several died from cold and hunger. One man was digging clams. He got stuck in the mud, and was so weak that he could not extricate himself, and miserably perished. They scattered, wandering about in search of ground nuts and shell-fish, and became utterly despicable, even in the eyes of the savages.