e a
shirt for his son, and, like a gentleman, paid her for her work. He
invited her to dine with him. They dined upon pancakes made of
parched wheat, beaten and fried in bear's grease. The dinner, though
very frugal, was esteemed very delicious.

The Indians remained here for several days, preparing for a very
formidable attack on the town of Northampton. During all the time that
Mrs. Rowlandson remained near King Philip, though she was held as a
captive, she was not treated as a slave. She was paid for all the work
that she did. She made a shirt for one of the warriors, and received
for it a generous sirloin of bear's flesh. For another she knit a pair
of stockings, for which she received a quart of peas. With these
savory viands Mrs. Rowlandson prepared a nice dinner, and invited her
master and mistress, Quinnapin and Wetamoo, to dine with her. They
accepted the invitation; but Mrs. Rowlandson did not appreciate the
niceties of Indian etiquette. Wetamoo was a queen, Quinnapin was only
her husband--merely the Prince Albert of Queen Victoria. As there was
but one dish from which both the queen and her husband were to be
served, the haughty Wetamoo deemed herself insulted, and refused to
eat a morsel.

Philip and his warriors soon departed to make attacks upon the
settlements. The Indians who remained took Mrs. Rowlandson and
several other captives some six miles farther up the river, and then
crossed to the eastern banks. Here they remained for some days, and
here Mrs. Rowlandson had another short interview with her son, which
lacerated still more severely her bleeding heart. The poor boy was
sick and in great pain, and his agonized mother was not permitted to
remain with him to afford him any relief. Of her daughter she could
learn no tidings. Wetamoo, Quinnapin, and Philip were all absent, and
the Indians treated her with great inhumanity, with occasional
caprices of strange and unaccountable kindness.

One bitter cold day, the Indians all huddled around the fire in the
wigwam, and would not allow her to approach it. Perishing with cold,
she went out and entered another wigwam. Here she was received with
great hospitality; a mat was spread for her, and she was addressed in
words of tender sympathy by the mother of the little barbarian
household, in whose bosom woman's loving heart throbbed warmly. But
soon the Indian to whose care she was intrusted came in search of her,
and amused himself in kicking her all the w