As a following worthy of his rank he took with him one hundred warriors, and with these he pressed forward over the trail that he had followed as a youth three years earlier. At the village of Peace, on the river of sweet waters, he found Miantomet, and raised her in a moment from the dejection of a childless fugitive to a proud motherhood, with the son, whom she had so long mourned as dead, once more restored to her.
But only for a short time might these two enjoy their reunion, for Massasoit found that whole section of country alarmed over an invasion of Hurons, who were said to be coming down the valley of the Shatemuc in formidable numbers. So he pushed on, hoping to form a junction with the Iroquois before the common enemy should arrive.
The eastern Iroquois or Maquas were hard beset. Two powerful expeditions had descended at once upon the country of the Five Nations. One, under leadership of our old acquaintance Champlain, had crossed Lake Ontario, penetrated deep into the territory of the Oneidas, and was supposed to be advancing upon the Maquas from the west. Another expedition, accompanied by three white men, was coming from the north by way of the Shatemuc, and already were fugitives flying before them to the palisaded villages, bringing sad tales of rapine and destruction. As though this state of affairs were not bad enough, it was reported that the New England tribes, led by Miantinomo, were advancing from the east. Thus it seemed as though the Maquas were doomed to destruction, and a feeling of despair had seized upon the warriors gathered for the defence of their three palisaded strongholds.
One night, during this unhappy condition of suspense, a group of chief men were seated about a small fire in the council-house of the easternmost village, gloomily discussing the situation. News had come that the enemy was close at hand, and that the village would be assaulted by overwhelming numbers on the morrow. So oppressed were the councillors by the hopelessness of their situation that for some time they sat in silence, and one among them appeared to be dozing, as though exhausted.
Suddenly this one, who was our old friend Kaweras, awoke, uttering an exclamation of pleasure, and looked about him with smiling cheerfulness.
"What pleases my brother?" asked he who sat nearest. "Has he seen a vision of the spirit land to which all of us will go before the setting of another sun?"
"No," replied Kaweras. "It is not yet time for visions of the spirit land."
"How so, when even the youngest warrior knows that we are in no condition to withstand an attack of the Hurons and of those armed with thunder-sticks who accompany them?"
"It is because he who is to deliver us even now approaches, and in a vision have I seen him."
"Comes he from the west, and is he the Wild-Cat of the Oneidas?"