way. One of the
Indians got up upon a horse, and they set me up behind him, with my poor
sick babe in my lap. A very wearisome and tedious day I had of it; what
with my own wound, and my child's being so exceeding sick, and in a
lamentable condition with her wound. It may be easily judged what a
poor feeble condition we were in, there being not the least crumb of
refreshing that came within either of our mouths from Wednesday night
to Saturday night, except only a little cold water. This day in the
afternoon, about an hour by sun, we came to the place where they
intended, viz. an Indian town, called Wenimesset, northward of Quabaug.
When we were come, Oh the number of pagans (now merciless enemies) that
there came about me, that I may say as David, "I had fainted, unless I
had believed, etc" (Psalm 27.13). The next day was the Sabbath. I then
remembered how careless I had been of God's holy time; how many Sabbaths
I had lost and misspent, and how evilly I had walked in God's sight;
which lay so close unto my spirit, that it was easy for me to see how
righteous it was with God to cut off the thread of my life and cast me
out of His presence forever. Yet the Lord still showed mercy to me, and
upheld me; and as He wounded me with one hand, so he healed me with the
other. This day there came to me one Robert Pepper (a man belonging
to Roxbury) who was taken in Captain Beers's fight, and had been now a
considerable time with the Indians; and up with them almost as far as
Albany, to see King Philip, as he told me, and was now very lately come
into these parts. Hearing, I say, that I was in this Indian town, he
obtained leave to come and see me. He told me he himself was wounded in
the leg at Captain Beer's fight; and was not able some time to go, but
as they carried him, and as he took oaken leaves and laid to his wound,
and through the blessing of God he was able to travel again. Then I took
oaken leaves and laid to my side, and with the blessing of God it cured
me also; yet before the cure was wrought, I may say, as it is in Psalm
38.5-6 "My wounds stink and are corrupt, I am troubled, I am bowed down
greatly, I go mourning all the day long." I sat much alone with a poor
wounded child in my lap, which moaned night and day, having nothing
to revive the body, or cheer the spirits of her, but instead of that,
sometimes one Indian would come and tell me one hour that "your master
will knock your child in the head," and then a sec