This heroic little band of refugees were called Puritans in England, which is French for abolitionists. As they stood upon the bleak inhospitable shore, shivering in the biting blast, Captain Miles Standish, who had the stoutest heart and also the most jovial temper in the party, said: "Say, you fellows, can't you stop chattering your teeth and shaking your knees? There don't any of you look like you wanted to pass resolutions against burning anything just at present. You're a jolly-looking lot of guys." Among the distinguished members of this band were William Bradford, Edward Winslow, John Alden, John Carver and Marc. Anthony, a nephew of Susan B. According to the habits of true Americans, they had not been on land half an hour till they went into caucus to elect a governor. John Carver carried around the hat and collected the ballots, and consequently was elected. "Now," said Governor Carver, "I hereby announce my proclamation that next Thursday shall be Thanksgiving Day." "What for?" asked Captain Standish. "Oh, it's the proper thing," said the governor. "You'll find it in all the school books and histories." Governor Carver then appointed a committee with Captain Standish as chairman to explore the country around. Captain Standish set forth at the head of his devoted followers through the deep snow, while the others went to work erecting what rough shelter they could out of logs and pine boughs. Presently Captain Standish and his band returned, making tracks in the snow about ten feet apart and closely pursued by a large, brick-red, passionate Indian, who was remarking, "Waugh-hoo-hoo-hoo!" at every jump. Governor Carver advanced to meet the untutored child of the forest, and said to him in simple words: "How! Me heap white chief. Gottee big guns. You killee my soldiers, me heap shoot. Sabe?" "I am charmed to meet you, governor," said the Indian. "My name is Massasoit. I also am a great chief. My wigwam is down there" (pointing with graceful gesture to the southwest)--"I have just come back from slaying the tribe of the Goo-Goos. You may not have heard, governor, that the cat came back." Governor Carver grasped the hand of Massasoit, and said: "Welcome, thrice welcome to our newly discovered continent, sir. Colonel Winthrop, give Mr. Massasoit your hand." "I'll keep mine, and deal him another if it's all the same to you," said Colonel Winthrop. Massasoit took his place at the side of the blanket that was spread on the snow, and the pasteboards were shuffled. Two hours later the Pilgrim Fathers had won from the Indian chief 200 buffalo robes, 100 pelts of the silver fox, 50 tanned deer hides, 300 otter skins, and 150 hides of the beaver, panther and mink. This was the original skin game. Later on in the game, Governor Carver called a bet of $27 worth of wampum made by Massasoit, with his daughter Priscilla, and lost on eights and treys. Longfellow, in his beautiful poem, describes what followed: