bosoms of His spirituals, for their temporals. The twenty
pounds, the price of my redemption, was raised by some Boston
gentlemen, and Mrs. Usher, whose bounty and religious charity,
I would not forget to make mention of. Then Mr. Thomas Shepard
of Charlestown received us into his house, where we continued
eleven weeks; and a father and mother they were to us. And many
more tender-hearted friends we met with in that place. We were
now in the midst of love, yet not without much and frequent
heaviness of heart for our poor children, and other relations,
who were still in affliction. The week following, after my
coming in, the governor and council sent forth to the Indians
again; and that not without success; for they brought in my
sister, and goodwife Kettle. Their not knowing where our
children were was a sore trial to us still, and yet we were not
without secret hopes that we should see them again. That which
was dead lay heavier upon my spirit, than those which were alive
and amongst the heathen: thinking how it suffered with its
wounds, and I was no way able to relieve it; and how it was
buried by the heathen in the wilderness from among all
Christians. We were hurried up and down in our thoughts,
sometime we should hear a report that they were gone this way,
and sometimes that; and that they were come in, in this place or
that. We kept inquiring and listening to hear concerning them,
but no certain news as yet. About this time the council had
ordered a day of public thanksgiving. Though I thought I had
still cause of mourning, and being unsettled in our minds, we
thought we would ride toward the eastward, to see if we could
hear anything concerning our children. And as we were riding
along (God is the wise disposer of all things) between Ipswich
and Rowley we met with Mr. William Hubbard, who told us that our