Finding no sympathy with the colonists, he finally entirely estranged himself from them, and passed his whole time with the Saco Indians. Their simple truth, their loyalty to a friend, no less than their hatred to a foe, harmonized with the broad shades of his own character, and he learned a peace with them which his own people denied him.
Gradually his higher intelligence, his daring courage, his contempt of danger, hardship and death, so won their admiration that he was elected sagamore, or chief. Thus did these primitive people recognize the essential manhood of John Bonyton; thus did they trust him, submit their interests to his keeping, and look up to him as one worthy of all reverence.
Once they besought him to select one of the fairest of their maidens to wife; but when he showed them that the wounds of his heart could never heal, they said no more.
The colonists resented this departure of one of their members from civilized usages, and visited the career of John Bonyton with the utmost acrimony of Puritanical persecution. They looked upon him as wholly given over to Satan, and unentitled to the ordinary claims of human sympathy or human fellowship.
Always a contemner of forms, after his election of sagamore to the tribe, John Bonyton refused any submission to the constituted authority of the colony, which sought in vain to seduce him to the condition of good citizenship. Being called upon to take the oath of allegiance to the colony, he refused, on the ground of his connection with the Saco tribe, whose interests he represented.
The relentless colonists pronounced a decree of outlawry upon the unhappy man, and set a price upon his head.
To these colonial persecutions were superadded those of town and church; so that, but for his faithful friends and allies, the Sacos, the situation of the high-spirited youth would have been miserable in the extreme; but his own indomitable will and fierce assertion of personal independence bore him above hardships and persecutions which would have paralyzed a man of less mettle.
John Bonyton never skulked in by-places to avoid his enemies, but openly confronted them, walking into the town bravely, accoutered in his demi-savage costume, and haughtily bowing to soldier, civilian, or priest, who might be seen with pale lips turning the first corner to avoid the fiery eye of the haughty sagamore.
After the price had been put upon his head, John Bonyton might have been seen making his way at the early twilight of a winter day, to the house of the acting Governor of the colony, Thomas Gorges.
The family were engaged in singing the evening hymn, when a loud rap responded to the last note of the singers. The Governor opened the door in person, for he detected cowardice upon the faces of those nearest the window. John Bonyton stood erect, with rifle in hand, and spoke slowly and distinctly: