arbarity.--Actions
of the Christian Indians.--Meeting of the captives.--Return of the
warriors.--Exultation of the Indians.--A captive murdered.--Journey to
the interior.--Comfort obtained.--Fear of the English.--The flight.--The
burden.--Crossing the river.--Want of food.--Compelling the captive
to work.--The Indian village.--Numbers of the Indians.--Difficulty
of obtaining food.--Mrs. Rowlandson meets her son.--Regal
repast.--Preparations for an attack.--The queen invited to dinner.--An
interview between the captives.--Unaccountable conduct.--A journey
commenced.--Hardships endured.--Kindness from an old Indian.--False
report about her son.--Dismal life.--Visions of liberty.--Slow
march.--Gentlemanly conduct of Philip.--Queen Wetamoo.--Wampum,
and how made.--Kindness to the captive.--Proposition for her
ransom.--Evidence of slaughter.--A great feast.--Endeavors to see her
children.--Bravery of Mr. John Hoar.--Assurance of freedom.--Dress
for a grand dance.--Dress of Wetamoo.--Interview with Philip.--Her
release.--Appearance of the country.--Return to her friends.

The little army was now supplied with food, but the vast masses of
snow extending every where around them through the pathless wilderness
rendered it impossible to move in any direction. The forest afforded
ample materials for huts and fuel. A busy village speedily arose upon
the shores of the frozen bay. Many of the wounded were, for greater
safety and comfort, sent to the island of Rhode Island, where they
were carefully nursed in the dwellings of the colonists. In their
encampment at Wickford, as the region is now called, the soldiers
remained several weeks, blockaded by storms and drifts, waiting for a
change of weather. It was a season of unusual severity, and the army
presented a spectacle resembling, upon a small scale, that of the
mighty hosts of Napoleon afterward encamped among the forests of the
Vistula--a scene of military energy which arrested the gaze and
elicited the astonishment of all Europe.

As the English evacuated the Indian fort, the warriors who had escaped
into the swamp returned to their smouldering wigwams and to the
mangled bodies of their wives and children, overwhelmed with
indignation, rage, and despair. The storm of war had come and gone,
and awful was the ruin which it had left behind. The Rev. Mr. Ruggles,
recording the horrors of the destruction of the Narraganset fort,
writes:

"The burning of the wigwams, the sh