Kind as the Indians were, you would have been very much frightened if
you had seen them; and the baby Oceanus, who was a year old then,
began to cry at first whenever they came near him.

They were dressed in deerskins, and some of them had the furry coat of
a wild cat hanging on their arms. Their long black hair fell loose on
their shoulders, and was trimmed with feathers or fox-tails. They had
their faces painted in all kinds of strange ways, some with black
stripes as broad as your finger all up and down them. But whatever
they wore, it was their very best, and they had put it on for the
Thanksgiving party.

Each meal, before they ate anything, the Pilgrims and the Indians
thanked God together for all his goodness. The Indians sang and danced
in the evenings, and every day they ran races and played all kinds of
games with the children.

Then sometimes the Pilgrims with their guns, and the Indians with
their bows and arrows, would see who could shoot farthest and best. So
they were glad and merry and thankful for three whole days.

The Pilgrim mothers and fathers had been sick and sad many times since
they landed from the Mayflower; they had worked very hard, often had
not had enough to eat, and were mournful indeed when their friends
died and left them. But now they tried to forget all this, and think
only of how good God had been to them; and so they all were happy
together at the first Thanksgiving party.

All this happened nearly three hundred years ago, and ever since that
time Thanksgiving has been kept in our country.