A letter from Governor Craddock to Governor Endicott,
which had reached them the April before, had
given them timely notice of the intended recruits; in
which were the following orders. “The desire of the
London Company is that you doe endeavour to gett

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convenient houseings for the cattell against they doe
come; and withal we doe desire whatever bever or
fishe can be gotten readie. There hath nott bine a
tyme for sale of tymber, these twoe seven years, like
unto the present; therefore pittie the shipps should
come backe emptye. I wish alsoe that there bee
some sassafras and sassaparilla sent us, alsoe goode
store of shoemacke, silke grasse, and aught else that
may bee useful for dyinge or physicke.”

To comply with these various orders, necessarily
produced a good deal of hurry and bustle in the infant
settlement; and for a long while the sound of the axe
was busy and strong among them. And when at
length the expected vessels did arrive, and their fine
flock of horses, cows, sheep, and goats were well provided
for, there was still enough to employ the kind-hearted
and healthy, in administering comfort and
support to those who had landed among them, weary
and sick unto death. My ancestor had already witnessed
many of his companions depart this life, exulting
that though they were absent from kindred and
friends, they were going far beyond the power and
cruelty of prelates. Wearied with the wretchedness
of the scene, on the 28th of June he departed from
Naumkeak, which had now taken the name of Salem,
in memory of the peaceful asylum which it it afforded
the fugitives. Whether the suspicion of Mary's
attachment had any thing to do with the old bachelor's
final arrangements, he saith not; but when he
again visited America, although he brought a young
wife with him, I find he has not failed to speak of her
wayward fate with frequent and deep-toned interest.

These brief and scattered hints have now become
almost illegible from their age and uncouth spelling,
and it was with difficulty I extracted from them materials
for the following story.—In a situation so

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remote, and circumscribed, it may well be supposed
that the arrival or departure of a vessel was considered
as an affair of great importance, and felt through
every fibre of the community. On the occasion I
have just referred to, most of the white people from
the neighbouring settlements had collected on the
beach, together with an almost equal number of the
dark children of the forest. Mary had sprung upon
a jutting rock, and her sylph-like figure afforded a
fine contrast to the decaying elegance of her mother,
who was leaning on her arm, the cheerful countenance
of Mr. Oldham's buxom daughter, and the tall, athletic
form of Hobomok, who stood by her side, resting
his healthy cheek upon the hand which supported
his bow. By them, and all the motley group around
them, the departure of the English vessel was viewed
with keen, though varied emotion. The uniform
gloom of Mr. Conant's countenance received for one
moment a deeper tinge. It was but a passing shadow
of human weakness, quickly succeeded by a flush of
conscious exultation. His wife, who had left a path
all blooming with roses and verdure, and cheerfully
followed his rugged and solitary track, pressed back
the ready tears, as the remembrance of England came
hurrying on her heart. Mary's eyes overflowed with
the intense, unrestained gush of youthful feeling. But
amid all the painful associations of that moment, the
deep interest displayed by my ancestor did not pass
unnoticed; and surely the vanity which prompted a
lingering look of kindness, might be forgiven, in one
growing up in almost unheeded loveliness. “Farewell,”
said she, as she placed a letter in his hand.
“Give this to my grandfather; and many, many kind
wishes to good old England.”

“Yes,” interrupted her father, “many kind wishes
to the godly remnant who are among them. And

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since Naumkeak has become old enough to receive a
christian name, say ye to them that `in Salem is his
tabernacle, and his dwelling-place in Zion. Here he
will break the arrows of the bow, the shield, the
sword, and the battle.' But to them who are yet
given to the pride of prelacy, and the abomination of
common prayer, and likewise to them who are weather-waft
up and down with every eddying wind of
every new doctrine, say ye to them, that their damnation
sleepeth not, and the mist of darkness is reserved
for them forever, being of old ordained to condemnation.”

This speech was fiercely answered by a dark, lowering
looking savage, who stood among the crowd.

“That is Corbitant,” said Mary,—“What is it that
he says?”

“Your father say Indian arrow be broken at Naumkeak,”
replied Hobomok,—“Corbitant say the feather
be first red with white man's blood.”

He would have added more, but the vessels were
now sweeping past the rock on which they stood, and
every eye was fixed on their motion. Many a hearty
salutation, and blunt compliment were paid to Sally
Oldham, and many a hat was waved in respectful
adieu to Mrs. Conant and her daughter. The loud
response which the sailors gave to the kind farewells
of their friends on shore, was soon lost in the distance,
and one by one the people slowly dispersed. Mrs.
Conant took the arm of her husband, and Mary lingered
far behind, in hopes of obtaining a conference
with Sally Oldham. But one Mr. Thomas Graves
seemed to have been deeply smitten with the comely
countenance of the latter damsel; and never for a
moment doubting that the fascination was reciprocal,
he became somewhat obtrusively officious. It was
singular to observe the difference of deportment

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between him and the Indian. Whenever Hobomok
gazed upon Mary, it was with an expression in which
reverence was strikingly predominant. And now, with
more than his usual taciturnity, he walked at a short
distance before them, and eagerly pointed with his
bow, when it was necessary to obviate any little difficulties
in their path. But he from the Isle of Wight,
seemed resolved that one of the young ladies should
be aware of the presence of a noisy admirer, and with
abundance of stammering awkwardness, he began,
“You are Mr. Oldham's daughter, I think?”

“I have been told so, sir,” replied the mischievous
girl.

“The world is dark and dismal enough in any
place,” continued the man of a wo-begone countenance,—
“more especially when we think of the regiments
of sin which are marching up and down in its
borders; but I should think it would be ten times
darker to a well-favored young woman, here in this
wilderness.”

“If you mean me,” answered the maiden, “I pass
my time merry enough, in the long run; but there is
no danger of our forgetting the dolors while we have
your visage amongst us.”

“I sha'nt be called to give an account of my looks,”
replied the offended suitor, “inasmuch as God made
them in such form and likeness as pleased him. But
I perceive you have no savor of goldliness about you,
and are clean carried away by the crackling thorns
of worldly mirth.”

“My friend is like Rachel of old,” interrupted her
smiling companion. “She feedeth her cattle and
draweth them water, and waiteth for some Jacob to
journey hither.”

“And what would you say, damsel, if he were at
your very door,” rejoined Mr. Graves, with an

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uncouth distension of his jaws, which was doubtless
meant for one of love's gentle, insinuating smiles.
“And when Jacob knew Rachel he kissed her,” continued
he, as he courageously put his arm round her
neck, to suit his action to the words.

“I have had enough of that from the sanctified Mr.
Lyford,” said the resolute maiden, as she gave him a
blow, which occasioned a sudden and involuntary retreat.

“Well done, Sally,” said the hoarse voice of her
father, who just then stept from among the trees, half
choked with laughter, and for a moment forgetful of
the decorum which he usually maintained in her presence.
“Why, fellow, thou'rt smitten indeed; but it
ill beseemeth thee to put on a rueful face at this disaster.
The damsel is not worth the tears, which an
onion draweth forth.”

Sally gladly left her discomfited lover to recover
himself as he could, and bidding a hasty good-morning
to Hobomok, as he stood laughing and muttering
to himself, she followed Mary, who with an air of girlish
confidence had beckoned her into a narrow footpath
which led through the woods. For a few moments
the girls united in almost convulsive fits of
laughter.

“Did you ever see such a fellow?” said Sally.
“Every day since they landed, he has been at my
elbow, trying to make love by stammering and stuttering
about the crackling thorns of worldly mirth;
and I verily think he believes that I have been greatly
delighted therewith. A plague on all such sanctified
looking folks. There was Mr. Lyford, (I don't care
if he was a minister) he was always talking about faith
and righteousness, and the falling-off of the Plymouth
elders, and yet many a sly look and word he'd give
me, when his good-woman was out of the way. I

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marvel that fools can always find utterance, inasmuch
as some men of sense are so dumb.”

“Men of sense will speak all in good time, if you will
wait patiently,” answered Mary. “But you don't know
how glad I am that it happened to be your father, instead
of mine, who saw you strike Mr. Graves.”

“So am I,” replied her companion. “Though he
is your father, to my thinking he is over fond of keeping
folks in a straight jacket; and I'm sure our belt is
likely to be buckled tight enough by the great folks
there in London. In my poor judgment it is bad
enough that we've come over into this wilderness to
find elbow room for our consciences, without being
told how long a time we may have to stop and breathe
in. Every bout I knit in my stocking is to be set
down in black and white, and sent over to the London
Company forsooth. I suppose by and by the
drops we drink and the mouthfuls we eat must be
counted, and their number sent thither.”

“I am sure,” replied Mary, “when you remember
how many Indians we have lately met, whom Morton's
unthinking wickedness has armed with powder
and firelocks, you will be glad that we have three
hundred more defenders around us, whatever price we
may pay therefor. Indeed Sally, I'm weary of this
wilderness life. My heart yearns for England, and
had it not been for my good mother, I would gladly
have left Naumkeak to-day.”

“I can't but admire ye've been content so long,
Miss Mary, considering what ye left behind you. If
you'd staid there, who knows but you might have been
Lady Lincoln? But as for this purlieu of creation, I
know of no chance a body has for a husband, without
they pick up some stray Narraganset, or wandering
Tarateen.”

“O, don't name such a thing,” said Mary, shuddering.

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