elf was gone, and I
left behind, so that my spirit was now quite ready to sink. I asked them
to let me go out and pick up some sticks, that I might get alone, and
pour out my heart unto the Lord. Then also I took my Bible to read, but
I found no comfort here neither, which many times I was wont to find. So
easy a thing it is with God to dry up the streams of Scripture comfort
from us. Yet I can say, that in all my sorrows and afflictions, God did
not leave me to have my impatience work towards Himself, as if His ways
were unrighteous. But I knew that He laid upon me less than I deserved.
Afterward, before this doleful time ended with me, I was turning the
leaves of my Bible, and the Lord brought to me some Scriptures, which
did a little revive me, as that [in] Isaiah 55.8: "For my thoughts are
not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord." And
also that [in] Psalm 37.5: "Commit thy way unto the Lord; trust also in
him; and he shall bring it to pass." About this time they came yelping
from Hadley, where they had killed three Englishmen, and brought one
captive with them, viz. Thomas Read. They all gathered about the poor
man, asking him many questions. I desired also to go and see him; and
when I came, he was crying bitterly, supposing they would quickly kill
him. Whereupon I asked one of them, whether they intended to kill him;
he answered me, they would not. He being a little cheered with that, I
asked him about the welfare of my husband. He told me he saw him such
a time in the Bay, and he was well, but very melancholy. By which I
certainly understood (though I suspected it before) that whatsoever the
Indians told me respecting him was vanity and lies. Some of them told
me he was dead, and they had killed him; some said he was married again,
and that the Governor wished him to marry; and told him he should
have his choice, and that all persuaded I was dead. So like were these
barbarous creatures to him who was a liar from the beginning.

As I was sitting once in the wigwam here, Philip's maid came in with the
child in her arms, and asked me to give her a piece of my apron, to make
a flap for it. I told her I would not. Then my mistress bade me give it,
but still I said no. The maid told me if I would not give her a piece,
she would tear a piece off it. I told her I would tear her coat then.
With that my mistress rises up, and take up a stick big enough to have
killed me, and struck at me with it. Bu