Meanwhile the plantation at Pocomtuck was increasing in strength and prosperity. The rich soil of the meadows yielded an abundance of Indian corn, wheat, rye, barley, beans, and flax. Game of every kind was plenty and easily secured. Flocks of turkeys, pigeons, geese, and ducks were all about them in the woods and waters. The forest also furnished condiments, in the form of sugar from the sap of the maple tree, and honey from the heart of the "bee tree." The rivers teemed with choice fish; herds of deer were so common as to impress the name of "Deerfield" permanently upon the settlement. Peace and plenty smiled on all, and the foundations of the little community seemed firmly established. The planters had come to stay. In 1673, a minister had been secured in the person of Samuel Mather, a Harvard graduate of 1671. In 1675, they had already "a little house for a meeting-house, yt they meete in," and were building a dwelling for the minister. None dreamed that the horrors of an Indian war were so soon to overwhelm them and change the whole aspect of nature and of human affairs in this quiet valley. The news of the outbreak at far-off Plymouth, in June, 1675, raised no fears in them. The attack on Brookfield, August 2, opened their eyes, and preparations for defence were pushed with vigor. The swamp fight under the shadow of Wequamps brought the war to their very doors; and, on the first of September, the settlers were called upon to defend their homes against the attack of those who had hitherto been considered trusty friends. The days of peace and plenty were over for this unhappy people. On the slaughter of Lothrop and the "Flower of Essex," at Bloody Brook, September 18, this chosen land was deserted and given back to the wilderness.