Here quite an attractive region presented itself to their eyes. The land on both sides of the river had long been cleared, being entirely free from trees or stumps, and had evidently waved with cornfields. There were many indications that the place had formerly been quite thickly inhabited. The plague, of which we have spoken, it is said, had swept every individual into the grave. A few wandering outcast Indians had come to this depopulated region to take fish. By means of a wear in the river, which consisted of a sort of net or fence, constructed of branches of trees and twigs, they caught an abundance of bass. They had not erected any shelter for themselves, but were sleeping, like the cattle, in the open air. These wretched savages had no food but fish and roasted acorns. Very greedily they partook of the stores which the Pilgrims brought with them. Liberally they were fed, “we not doubting,” writes Mr. Winslow, “but that we should have enough where’er we came.” The Pilgrims lodged that night in the open fields. The next morning, at an early hour, after such frugal breakfast as the occasion could furnish, they set out again upon their journey. Six savages followed them. Having travelled about six miles, following down the banks of the river, they came to a shoal place, where the stream could be forded. This was undoubtedly at a spot now called Squabetty, three and a half miles from Taunton Green. “Here,” writes Mr. Winslow, “let me not forget the valor and courage of some of the savages on the opposite side of the river; for there were remaining alive only two men, both aged, especially the one being about threescore. These two, espying a company of men entering the river, ran very swiftly, and low in the grass, to meet us at the bank, where, with shrill voices and great courage, standing, they charged upon us with their bows, demanding who we were, supposing us to be enemies, and thinking to take advantage of us in the water. But seeing we were friends, they welcomed us with such food as they had, and we bestowed a small bracelet of beads upon them.” Here, after refreshing themselves, they continued their journey down the western banks of the river. It was a very sultry July day, but the country was beautiful, and abundantly watered with innumerable small streams, and cool, bubbling springs. The savages would never drink of the flowing brooks, but only at the spring heads. Very pleasantly Mr. Winslow writes in reference to the amiability and obliging disposition of these savages: