une,
four weeks after the destruction of the forts there, these two bodies
met, in strong martial array, upon the ruins of the empire of
Sassacus, resolved to prosecute the war to the utter extermination of
the Pequots. The despairing fugitives had retired into the wilderness
toward the west. The Indians, encumbered with their women and
children, and destitute of food, could move but slowly. They were
compelled to keep near the shore, that they might dig clams, which
food was almost their only refuge from starvation.

The English vigorously pursued them, occasionally shooting a straggler
or picking up a few captives, whom they retained as guides. When they
arrived at Saybrook, one party followed along the coast in boats,
while the others, accompanied by Uncas and a band of Mohegan Indians,
scoured the shore. They came at length to Menunkatuck, now called
Guilford. The south side of the harbor here is formed by a long
peninsula. Some Pequots, pursued by the English, ran down this neck of
land, hoping that their tireless enemies would miss their track and
pass by. But Uncas, with Indian sagacity, led the party on the trail.
The Pequots, finding their foes upon them, plunged into the water and
swam across the narrow mouth of the harbor. But another party of
English was already there, who seized them as they waded to the shore.
The chief of this little band of Pequots was sentenced to be shot. He
was bound to a tree, and Uncas, with nervous arm, sent an arrow
through his heart. The head of the savage was then cut off and placed
in the crotch of a large oak tree, where it remained for many years,
dried and shriveled in the sun, a ghastly memorial of days of violence
and blood. From this extraordinary incident, the bluff, to the present
day, bears the name of _Sachem's Head_.

The little army pressed vigorously on, by land and by sea, some twenty
miles farther west, to a place called Quinnipiac, now New Haven. Here
they found a good harbor for their vessels, and they remained several
days for rest. They saw the smokes of great fires in the woods, and
sent out several expeditions in search of the Indians, but could find
none. A Pequot, a traitor to his tribe, came in and informed them that
a hundred Pequot warriors, with some two hundred men, women, and
children of an adjacent tribe, had taken refuge in a large swamp about
twenty-five miles west. This swamp was in the present town of
Fairfield, directly back of the village.