38. Midwinter, and provisions low. Seven already buried in the ocean. Sickness setting in with more severity, women and children to be somehow cared for, two tiny babies to be shielded from all harm, their only home the inhospitable shore. No time to lose! The 16th they began to build the first house, and so was planted Plymouth. 39. In that dead winter time sprang Plymouth. Cold for the seed of the Mayflower, but Mayflower's seed did not easily die. The houses went up, one after another, and as it became possible the company on the ship were transferred to the land. The ship, indeed, became more and more undesirable: sickness prevailed; the sailors did not escape, but dragged about or tossed in their beds in fierce impatience, and, of the Puritans, half their number died before the end of March. Elder Brewster and strong Miles Standish, with half-a-dozen others who were left in health, toiled night and day, cooking, building fires, making beds, washing clothes, adapting their masculine hands to women's offices as they dressed and undressed the feverish patients, cared for the babies whose mothers lay ill, heard the children say their prayers. Ah, Miles Standish, rough captain, nowhere do you stand out braver than against that background! And Rose, thy wife, Rose Standish too must die, ere ever she comes to the home on the shore. 40. The winter wears on. The Indians come to investigate, later to treat with the English. Since there are few well enough to build, the little settlement, snowbound between the ocean and the forest, grows but slowly. Sometimes death comes twice and thrice in a day, and the whole scene is a funeral and the ocean one black grave. Yet they bear it all patiently, silently: it is the hand of the Lord. Priscilla Mullins sees her father, her mother, her brother, buried in the heartless sea, and stands in the New World alone. "God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble." Priscilla can bear it as a brave woman will, and, later, finds protection in the strong arm of John Alden. Mr. Winslow watches the waves close over the form of his wife. "My life is spent with sorrow and my years with sighing,... but I trusted in thee, O Lord; my times are in thy hand." He can bear it as a brave man can, and not many months after finds comfort in taking to himself the widow of Mr. White; the two knit together by common sorrow and danger. Elizabeth Tilley loses father and mother. John Rigdale and Alice, his wife, die together. Thomas Tinker, wife, and child, all die there in the ship. And the north wind beat the sea and blew through the bare trees. Desolate, desolate welcome! "From the end of the earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed: lead me to the rock that is higher than I. The rock of my strength and my refuge is in God." They could bear it and be brave; and they did, until God sent the spring with new health for his people.