"That night, when they thought I slept, I overheard the leader of the band that brought me talking with Wattasacompanum, the chief of the Nipmucks. He said Philip had ordered them to bring me here, and sent a message that I should be kept and well treated until he should see fit to have me ransomed. Wattasacompanum, who is a good chief and a praying Indian, promised that I should be faithfully guarded. The next day, before Philip's messengers departed, I was carried outside the wigwam, where the Indians danced a wild, fantastic war-dance about me, to the music of their own strange screaming. I lay trembling with fright, until the old squaw came out and sat by me, somewhat quieting my fears by repeating, 'They no kill you; they no kill.' They wished to paint my face and decorate my head with branches, but Wattasacompanum said no, that being ill I should not be disturbed. He laid his hand on my head, and solemnly promised to safely keep me; and after that the strange Indians departed." "What did they do for you to bring back your health?" "Very little. I was allowed to rest for a time, was not treated very harshly, and nature did the rest." "What food did you have?" "Ah, that was the worst trial; for days I ate almost nothing. I could not touch the meat they kept constantly boiling in a great common kettle, which all could go to, but I soon learned to eat a sort of cake they make of Indian corn, and when stronger I wandered about and found berries and dried nuts for myself; but I have never been strong since I came here." "That does not surprise me. Such a life for one like you! Have they always treated you well?" "No, they are often very rough; but the women are kinder than the men, who, fortunately for me, are away upon the war-path the greater part of the time, returning only occasionally for a night." "What work do they require of you?" "I first bring up water from the lake in the morning,--that tires me most,--then I help cook their food, and do whatever is necessary in an Indian household,"--and Millicent smiled,--"and I sew for the women and children." "The wretches! why don't they bring their own water from the lake, and make their own clothes?" "I would willingly do all they ask could I but know that I may soon be free to look for my sister, and be among my own race again." "We will see about that. You must not do drudgery for these savages much longer. Have you no relatives with whom it may be possible your sister is now?" "None; the family whom we were visiting when I was captured were our only relatives. My sister was out at the time on an errand in the town; so you see I do not know whether she was killed or captured, undoubtedly one or the other. My name is Millicent Gordon; hers, Martha. Now, sir, you have my history, and I wish to thank you for your kind attention. It has done me good to relate it to you, for you are the first white man whom I have seen for many months."