rs from the enemy and added them to the English force, set out
for Plymouth. At parting, he advised Awashonks to remain faithful to
the English whatever might happen, and to keep, with all her warriors,
within the limits of Soykonate. He promised to return to her again in
a few days.

Just north of Little Compton, in the region now occupied by the upper
part of Tiverton, and by Fall River, the Pocasset tribe of Indians
dwelt. Wetamoo, the former bride of Alexander, was a princess of this
tribe. Upon the death of her husband and the accession of Philip to
the sovereignty of the Wampanoags, she had returned to her parental
home, and was now queen of the tribe. Her power was about equal to
that of Awashonks, and she could lead three or four hundred warriors
into the field. Captain Church immediately proceeded to her court, as
he deemed it exceedingly important to detach her, if possible, from
the coalition.

He found her upon a high hill at a short distance from the shore. But
few of her people were with her, and she appeared reserved and very
melancholy. She acknowledged that all her warriors had gone across the
water to Philip's war-dance, though she said that it was against her
will. She was, however, brooding over her past injuries, and was eager
to join Philip in any measures of revenge. Captain Church had hardly
arrived at Plymouth before the wonderful successes of Philip so
encouraged the Indians that Wetamoo, with alacrity and burning zeal,
joined the coalition; and even Awashonks could not resist the
inclinations of her warriors, but was also, with reluctance, compelled
to unite with Philip.

War was now raging in all its horrors. A more harassing and merciless
conflict can hardly be imagined. The Indians seldom presented
themselves in large numbers, never gathered for a decisive action,
but, dividing into innumerable prowling bands, attacked the lonely
farm-house, the small and distant settlements, and often, in terrific
midnight onset, plunged, with musket, torch, and tomahawk, into the
large towns. These bands varied in their numbers from twenty to thirty
to two or three thousand. The colonists were very much scattered in
isolated farm-houses through the wilderness. In consequence of the
gigantic growth of trees, which it was a great labor to cut down, and
which, when felled, left the ground encumbered for years with
enormous stumps and roots, the colonists were eager to find any smooth
meadow or natural op