There was a grizzly old Boston Captain, who had done hard service on the sea, named Moseley. He wore a wig, a thing that the Indians had never seen, and of whose use they knew nothing at all. Tommy Ten-Canoes had never feared the white man nor the latter’s death-dealing weapons. He had never retreated; he had always been found in front of the stealthy bands as they pursued the forest trails. But his courage was at last put to a test of which he had never dreamed. Old Captain Moseley had led a company of trained soldiers against the Indians from Boston. Tommy Ten-Canoes had discovered the movement, and had prepared the Indians to meet it. Captain Moseley’s company, which consisted of one hundred men, had first marched to a place called Myles Bridge in Swansea. Here was a garrison house in which lived Rev. John Myles. The church was called Baptist, but people of all faiths were welcome to it; among the latter, Marinus Willett, who afterwards became the first Mayor of New York. It was the first church of the kind in Massachusetts, and it still exists in Swansea. Over the glimmering waterways walled with dark oak woods came Tommy Ten-Canoes, with five of his famous boats, and landed at a place near the thrifty Baptist colony, so that his little navy might be at the ready service of Philip. It was the last days of June. There had been an eclipse of the moon on the night that Tommy Ten-Canoes had glided up the Sowans River towards Myles Bridge. He thought the eclipse was meant for him and his little boats, and he was a very proud and happy man. “The moon went out in the clear sky when we left the bay,” said he; “so shall our enemies be extinguished. The moon shone again on the calm river. For whom did the moon shine again? For Nipanset.” Poor Tommy Ten-Canoes! He was not the first hero of modern times who has thought that the moon and stars were made for him and shone for him on special occasions. In old Captain Moseley’s company was a Jamaica pilot who had visited Pokanoket and been presented to Tommy, and told that the latter was a very renowned Indian. “_What_ are you?” asked the Pilot. “I am Tommy One-Canoe.” “Ah!” “I am Tommy Two-Canoes.” “Indeed! Ah!” “I am Tommy Three-Canoes.” “Oh! Ah! Indeed!” “I am Tommy Four-Canoes, _and_ I am Tommy Five-Canoes, _and_ I am Tommy Six-Canoes, _and_ I am Tommy TEN-Canoes.” “Well, Tommy Ten-Canoes,” said the Pilot, “don’t you ever get into any trouble with the white people, because you might find yourself merely Tommy No-Canoes.” Tommy was offended at this. He had no fears of such a fall from power, however.