The next morning Major Bradford embarked his army in canoes, and crossed to Mount Hope in search of King Philip. It was late at night before they reached the Mount, and the fires blazing in the woods showed that the Indians were collecting in large numbers. Meeting, however, with no foe, they marched on to Rehoboth. Here Captain Church, taking an Indian for a guide, set out for Plymouth to intercede for his friends, the Saconet Indians. The governor received him with great cordiality. Captain Church, highly gratified, took with him three or four men as a body-guard, and hastened to Sandwich. Disappointed in not finding Awashonks there, he went to Agawam, in the present town of Wareham; still not finding her, he crossed Mattapoiset River, and ascended a bluff which commanded a wide prospect of Buzzard's Bay.
Indian festivities.
As they stood upon the bluff, they heard a loud murmuring noise coming from the concealed shore at a little distance. Creeping cautiously along, they peered over a low cliff, and saw a large number of Indians, of all ages and sexes, engaged upon the beach in the wildest scene of barbarian festivities. Some were running races on horseback; some playing at football; some were catching eels and flat-fish; and others plunging and frolicking in the waves.
Sagacious care.
Captain Church was uncertain whether they were enemies or friends. With characteristic sagacity and intrepidity, he retired some distance into a thicket, and then hallooed to them. Two young Indians, hearing the shout, left the rest of their company to see from whence it came. They came close upon Captain Church before he discovered himself to them. As soon as they saw Captain Church, with two or three men around him, all well armed, they, in a panic, endeavored to retreat. He succeeded, however, in retaining them, and in disarming their fears.
Captain Church to visit the queen.
A luxurious supper.
Bill of fare.
From them he learned that the party consisted of Awashonks and her tribe. He then sent word to Awashonks that he intended to sup with her that evening, and to lodge in her camp that night. The queen immediately made preparations to receive him and his companions with all due respect. Captain Church and his men, mounted on horseback, rode down to the beach. The Indians gathered around them with shouts of welcome. They were conducted to a pleasant tent, open toward the sea, and were provided with a luxurious supper of fried fish. The supper consisted of three courses: a young bass in one dish, eels and flat-fish in a second, and shell-fish in a third; but there was neither bread nor salt.
By the time supper was over it was night, serene and moonless, yet brilliant with stars. The still waters of Buzzard's Bay lay like a burnished mirror, reflecting the sparkling canopy above in a corresponding arch below. The unbroken forest frowned along the shore, sublime in its solitude, and from its depths could only be heard the lonely cry of the birds of darkness.
A huge bonfire.
The Indians collected an enormous pile of pine knots and the resinous boughs of the fir-tree. Men, women, and children all contributed to enlarge the gigantic heap, and when the torch was touched, a bonfire of amazing splendor blazed far and wide over the forest and the bay. This was the introductory act to a drama where peace and war were blended. All the Indians, old and young, gathered around the fire. Queen Awashonks, with the oldest men and women of the tribe, kneeling down in a circle, formed the first ring; next behind them came all the most distinguished warriors, armed and arrayed in all the gorgeous panoply of barbarian warfare; then came a motley multitude of the common mass of men, women, and children.