sent
town of Brunswick. His family dwelt alone in the midst of the
wilderness and the Indians. He purchased furs of the natives, and took
them in his canoe down to the settlements near the mouth of the
Sagadahock, from whence they were transported to England. He is
reputed to have been a hard-hearted, shrewd man, always sure to get
the best end of the bargain. The Indians all disliked him, and he
became the first sufferer in the war.

On the 5th of September, a few months after the commencement of
hostilities in Swanzey, twenty Indians came to the house of Purchas
under the pretense of trading. Finding Purchas and his son both
absent, they robbed the house of every thing upon which they could
lay their hands. They found rum, and soon became frantically drunk.
There was a fine calf in the barn, and a few sheep at the door. The
Indians were adroit butchers. The veal and the mutton were soon
roasting upon their spits. They danced, they shouted, they clashed
their weapons in exultation, and the noise of the Falls was drowned in
the uproar of barbarian wassail. One of their exploits was to rip open
a feather bed for the pleasure of seeing the feathers float away in
the air. They, however, inflicted no violence upon Mrs. Purchas or her
children.

In the midst of the scene, a son of Mr. Purchas was approaching home
upon horseback. Alarmed by the clamor, he cautiously drew near, and
was in consternation in view of the savage spectacle. Conscious that
his interposition could be of no possible avail, he fled for life. The
Indians caught sight of him, and one pursued him for some distance
with his gun, but he escaped. Soon after the Indians left, telling
Mrs. Purchas that others would soon come and treat them worse.

There was an old man by the name of Wakely, who had settled near the
mouth of Presumpscot River, in Falmouth. His family consisted of nine
persons. A week after the robbery of Mr. Purchas's house, a band of
savages made a fierce onset upon this solitary cabin. They burnt the
house and killed all the family, except the youngest daughter, who was
about eleven years of age. This unfortunate child was carried away
captive, and for nine months was led up and down the wilderness, in
the endurance of all the horrors of savage life. At one time she was
led as far south as Narraganset Bay, which led to the supposition that
some of the Narraganset Indians were engaged in the capture. The
celebrated Squando, in whose charact