And now, having spoken what is but the truth concerning the profit that may with small labor be got for the Company of Adventurers, I will now, as briefly as I can, show you what good will redound to those that live here. And first, of the fish in the country, which, as I said before, is of all sorts in infinite number; and two, for the fowl that are in the country. Here are eagles of many sorts, pigeons, innumerable turkeys, geese, swans, duck, teel, partridge divers sorts, and many others fowl, [so] that one man at six shoots hath killed 400. And then to speak of the healthfulness of the air. It lieth in 42 degrees of northerly latitude. We have here the wind come off the land all the day time, and in the night off the sea, which is wondrous wholesome. Some few have had agues at the first coming over, but not sick above a week—and myself was ill for three or four days, but I thank these good friends of mine at the plantation, I am recovered pretty well, thanks be to God. Thirdly, those that live here need never want wood, for here is great store. Four (fourthly), here is as good ground as ever I heard of, whenas the ground yield five or six hundred for one—nay, some 1400![75] And this year they have great store of corn—as goodly corn as ever I saw—of which I have sent you six ears. And if God will, when I come myself, you nor my worshipful friend, Sir John Leventhorpe, shall not want so much beaver’s skins as will make each of you a hat. But to our purpose, I say that none of these commodities can be got without a little pains, and the most pains and cost is to be stowed at the beginning; for men must provide for the worst, that they may have provision for themselves a twelvemonth if these things fail—and then the[y] must take pains to build them houses and the like. And because I have spoken somewhat large of the country—and indeed I have good cause, because if I were well provided with all things necessary, as servants and the like, I could live here contentedly with great pleasure—but I shall better think and determine of such matters when more important business doth not call me aside. And now I will speak somewhat of the savages in the country about—I mean the native Indians. The nearest that any dwell unto [Plymouth] is fourteen miles, and their town is called Manomet. Only without our pales dwells one Hobomok, his wives and his household (above ten persons), who is our friend and interpreter, and one whom we have found faithful and trusty. He I carry away with me to the southward. And now, likewise, in this bay wherein we live, in former time hath lived about 2000 Indians. Here is not one living now, nor not one living which belonged to this plantation before we came, so that the ground on which we are planted belongs to nobody.[76]