Father, mother, Rena, were no more! He stood desolate and alone. His father, he was told, had defended himself bravely; more than one Indian had fallen by his hand; but at last overpowered by numbers, he had been slain. Of his mother and Rena's fate he failed to learn anything; they had disappeared. One thing he discovered, namely, that it was not the Wampanoags, Philip's tribe of Indians, who had wrought this destruction, but the squaw Sachem Weetamoo's, and Josh there and then made up his mind that he would follow her up and discover the fate of his mother and sister. The Plymouth Colony had put the conduct of all military affairs into the hands of Colonel Church, a friend of the Blackstones, and straightway Josh offered him his services, which were readily accepted, and he was enrolled in the corps, and rapidly rose to the rank of captain. The knowledge of Indian warfare he had gained from his friend was only equalled by Colonel Church[!-- [Pg 299] --] himself, and these two men, working together, became an absolute terror to the Indians, for they not only fought them with their own weapons of cunning and ruse, but with the superior arms of the trained soldier.
Gradually but surely the red men felt the weight of the white man's arm; they lost many of their best chiefs and warriors; they could no longer undertake large expeditions, but were reduced to a sort of predatory warfare. Twice in the course of a few weeks Philip was nearly captured; he fled, escaping in disguise, no one knew whither. But even then he would not yield. One of his chiefs venturing to propose that peace should be asked for, Philip ordered him at once to be put to death.
The sorely-tried population of New England would gladly have made peace. The strain of never-ceasing anxiety had whitened the heads of men still in their prime, and young men had even grown to look old. They could bear to die and suffer themselves, if need be; but their hearts ached for the women and children, above all for those who were missing and whose fates were dark mysteries.
"It will never end until that she-devil Weetamoo and her tool Philip are taken or killed, Josh," said Colonel Church, as they paced together in front of their tent, they having during the last few days pitched their camp near Tiverton in the North.
"If you can devise any plan by which this can be accomplished, I am ready," said Josh. "As far as it has been consistent with my duty, I have avoided Philip. I have told you how he saved my life. But for this squaw Sachem I have no such feeling, and I believe she is at the bottom of all this mischief."
Even as he spoke, an Indian came out from amongst a clump of trees and stood before them.
Always on his guard against treachery, Josh raised his musket.
[!-- [Pg 300] --]"Stand!" he shouted.
"No fear; I have come to speak with you and tell you what you desire to know," said the Indian, halting at a safe distance.
"Who are you?" asked the colonel.