But Damaris, quite unconvinced, clutched Miles tightly round the neck and went on crying lustily, till at last Goodwife Billington seized him by the collar. "Thou good-for-naught lad!" she scolded. "Wilt thou kill the poor babe? Take her back to the house, thou runagate! Ay, ay, let her scream herself ill, so thou mayest gape and gaze. I would I had the up-bringing of thee!"
Some people besides himself liked to gape and gaze, Miles thought, but, without reply, he gathered the wailing Damaris into his arms and trudged slowly up the hill. There, by the Governor's house, it chanced he met with Francis and Jack and Joe, who, scenting something unusual in the village, had hastened back through the fields. "What is it has happened, Miles?" cried Joe.
Miles, glancing over his shoulder, saw with unkind satisfaction that the men had taken the savage into the Common House, out of sight. "'Twas naught," he said airily. "Just a great Indian came into town."
"Did you see him?" urged Francis. "Tell us about it."
"Humph! You've no wish to talk to me when I'm tending a baby," sniffed Miles, and trudged on to Master Hopkins's house, so elate at his triumph that he forgot to be angry with Damaris for dragging him away from the sport.
At the noon meal, indeed, he heard all and more than he could have learned, had he lingered about the door of the Common House, for Ned Lister was bubbling over with talk of the Indian. As Master Hopkins had stayed at the Common House and Dotey had none of his fellow-servant's faculty for gathering news, he proved the only tale-monger of the household; so the whole family harked to him respectfully, and even Mistress Hopkins forgot her usual sarcasms on his galloping tongue.
"This is not a savage from these parts," Ned explained; "he comes from the eastward, from Monhegan, whither the ships out of England go to fish. He has been on shipboard there and so has got a smattering of the English tongue. One Captain Dermer brought him to Cape Cod, and he has been in these parts now some eight months. And he told us a deal of the nations hereabout. This open place where we have settled is called Patuxet. It was a village of the savages once, but three or four years back came a great plague, and all the people died, so now we are undisputed masters of the soil. Next unto us dwell the Massasoits, a tribe of some sixty fighting men; and to the southeast, those savages whom our men gave a brush to on their explorations in December, are the Nausets, near a hundred strong."
Ned paused to secure himself another slice of cold mallard; then started on a new train: "You should 'a' seen the Indian fellow eat. He asked for beer, but we gave him strong water, and biscuit and butter and cheese and pudding, and a piece of mallard thereto, and he liked all very well, and ate right heartily."
"He is not the only idler who looks for a full meal," said Mistress Hopkins scathingly. "Where have they put the vile creature now?"