The people[60] seem to be of one race with those in Virginia, both in respect of their qualities and language. They are great lovers of their children and people, and very revengeful of wrongs offered. They make their canoes, their arrows, their bows, their tobacco pipes and other their implements far more neat and artificially than in those parts. They dress, also, and paint leather; and make trousers, buskins, shoes with far greater curiosity. Corn they set none in their parts toward the north, and that is the cause why Indian corn, pease and such like is the best truck[61] for their skins—and then in winter especially, when hunger doth most pinch them, which is the season when the French do use to trade with them. They have the same names of numbers with them in the south. _Accamus_ (in the southern language, a dog) they call here _Aramouse_. For _Malta_ (no), they pronounce _Madda_; for _Matcheray_ (nought), _Mathat_; for _Mitchin_ (to eat), _Mitterim_; for _Kijos_ (the sun), _Hijos_; and many other like or self-same words spoken by the rebels[62] of the South Colony. Neither is their manner of singing and dancing much different. Their babes here also they bind to a board and set them up against a wall, as they do here in the south. Likewise, their head they anoint with oil mixed with vermillion; and are of the same hair, eyes and skin that those are of. EMMANUEL ALTHAM Emmanuel Altham (1600-1635/1636) Emmanuel Altham was born a gentleman, though his family had its connections with commerce and the legal profession rather than the titled aristocracy. His two older brothers successively held the family’s country seat at Mark Hall, Latton, about twenty miles north of London. As a younger son, Altham inherited little of his parents’ wealth and so, over objections by his relatives, sought excitement and his fortune in the expanding world of English overseas trade. Altham began as an investor in the Company of Adventurers for New Plymouth, served for a time as agent of the Company, and became an admirer of the colonists and New England with such ardor that he could more easily envision the colony’s future success than see the hardships which the planters were enduring when he first arrived. He went to the New World with a sense of honor, moreover, rather than the qualities of a hard-driving trader. Perhaps he was not a typical Adventurer: his devotion to the cause of colonization and taste for the heroic side of commerce rather than the ledger went beyond the ordinary, and helped keep English backing for the Pilgrim plantation alive when profit did not.