it. I told her I would tear her coat then. With that my
mistress rises up, and take up a stick big enough to have killed
me, and struck at me with it. But I stepped out, and she struck
the stick into the mat of the wigwam. But while she was pulling
of it out I ran to the maid and gave her all my apron, and so
that storm went over.

Hearing that my son was come to this place, I went to see him,
and told him his father was well, but melancholy. He told me he
was as much grieved for his father as for himself. I wondered
at his speech, for I thought I had enough upon my spirit in
reference to myself, to make me mindless of my husband and
everyone else; they being safe among their friends. He told me
also, that awhile before, his master (together with other
Indians) were going to the French for powder; but by the way the
Mohawks met with them, and killed four of their company, which
made the rest turn back again, for it might have been worse with
him, had he been sold to the French, than it proved to be in his
remaining with the Indians.

I went to see an English youth in this place, one John Gilbert
of Springfield. I found him lying without doors, upon the
ground. I asked him how he did? He told me he was very sick of
a flux, with eating so much blood. They had turned him out of
the wigwam, and with him an Indian papoose, almost dead (whose
parents had been killed), in a bitter cold day, without fire or
clothes. The young man himself had nothing on but his shirt and
waistcoat. This sight was enough to melt a heart of flint.
There they lay quivering in the cold, the youth round like a
dog, the papoose stretched out with his eyes and nose and mouth