Next morning, in the clear sunlight, Miles's courage revived mightily, but his elders still looked sober. None the less, whether Indians threatened or no, the work of the colony must be done: all the morning men and boys trudged about their tasks, though none went far afield; and after the noon meal the men gathered once more at the Common House, to consider the public business which the first coming of Samoset had broken off.
Oceanus was ailing that afternoon and needed his mother, so Miles had to mind Damaris for a dreary hour. As he sat with her upon the doorstone, he spied a noiseless little group of some five Indians passing down the street, and, alert at once, he begged leave to run see what might happen; but Mistress Hopkins, all a-tremble herself, forbade him venture out while those bloodthirsty wretches were abroad, and even made him come in and shut the door fast.
But speedily there sounded a rattling knock to which the mistress must open, and in came the men of the household, so hurriedly that straightway the living room was in confusion. For the great Sagamore Massasoit, with his brother Quadequina and sixty warriors, was at hand, just across the brook. One of the Indians, Squanto, who could speak English, had gone back to bid him enter the settlement, and the men of the colony must get under arms to receive him; perhaps even to defend themselves, Master Hopkins let a word fall.
There followed a great throwing-on of buff-jackets and buckling of sword-belts, while Giles, newly appointed drummer to the colony, rattled over the pots and kettles in a meaningless search for his drumsticks, which some one had surely moved from the place where he left them. Oceanus wailed, Damaris, indignant at being neglected, screamed aloud, Trug barked, and Mistress Hopkins scolded, but somehow, in the midst of the hurly-burly, the three men equipped themselves and tramped away; and right at their heels went Giles, with the drumsticks which Constance had found.
But the door closed behind them and shut Miles, a soldier in name only, in with the women and children for another tedious hour. Damaris found little rest in his arms those minutes, while he ran from the western window, whence he could see a bit of the street and the path to the spring, to the eastern window, whence, far down the street, he beheld the men gathered in martial line, all in armor, which glimmered bravely in the afternoon sun.
He was still gazing down the street when Constance, who had ventured to the other window, called to him in a terrified voice: "Miles! Oh, Miles! Come hither. 'Tis Indians indeed. Hundreds of them!"
With no wish to see further, the girl drew away from the western window, and Miles thrust eagerly into her place. Yes, there were Indians indeed, swarms of them, it seemed at first sight, so he flinched back a little from the casement. For they were filing past the house, and that brought them so near that Miles could see even the grotesque figures in which their faces were painted. But soon he perceived English musketeers marshalling them, and he saw, too, that the savages were unarmed. Their mission must be peaceful, he judged; so, eager and unafraid, he stared at them, and was sorry when the last one disappeared down the street.
Just then, as he turned from the window, sounded the tap, tap of a drum. "It is the Governor and the rest of the men with drum and trumpet marching up the street," spoke Constance from the eastern casement. "They have led the savages into the unfinished cottage by the Common House, and now they are going in to them."
Miles, at her side, squirmed with impatience. "There's Jack yonder beneath the cottage window," he exclaimed, "and Francis and Joe. And there's such a deal to see. And I'm sure they are all good, harmless Indians." He gave a glance toward the bedroom, where he could hear Mistress Hopkins lulling Oceanus, then whispered Constance: "Won't you mind Damaris? I'll tell you all about it when I come back."