of civilities, Aspinet, the sachem there, brought the boy, whom he “had bedecked like a salvage,” and “behung with beads,” out to their boat. And through Aspinet, the Plymouth men arranged to pay for the seed corn they had taken from his cache on Corn Hill in the previous November. Returning with Iyanough to Cummaquid, there was further “entertainment”: the women and children joined hands in a dance before them; Iyanough himself led the way through the darkness to a spring where they might fill their water cask; he hung his own necklace about the neck of an Englishman. And the party set out for home with due reciprocation of courtesy, but were hindered by tide and wind, and again returned, and again were welcomed by the natives. Truly, a fine adventure for young John Billington. This expedition seems to have cemented a friendly understanding with the Cape Indians. In November, when the Fortune was sighted off the Cape and the Indians feared she might be a hostile French ship, they warned Plymouth in time for the townsmen to prepare for possible attack. And the natives were always ready to supplement the settlers’ scanty stock of food, which, but for them, would have had no other variety than game from the forest and fish from the sea. Not that the pious were unmindful of such mercies. “Thanks to God who has given us to suck of the abundance of the seas and of treasure hid in the sands,” was the grace said over a dish of clams to which a neighbor had been invited. But for the fruits of the earth they were chiefly dependent upon the savages. “The cheapest corn they planted at first was Indian grain, before they had ploughs,” runs the record. “And let no man make a jest at pumpkins, for with this food the Lord was pleased to feed his people to their good content till corn and cattle were increased.” “We have pumpkins at morning, and pumpkins at noon. If it were not for pumpkins, we should be undone.”