g when the canoe, closely followed by Amos's
rowboat, left Wellfleet harbor behind them and headed for Brewster. The
squaw had decided that it would be easier to go on than to wait for
another day, and Anne and Amos were glad to go on as soon as possible.

At first Amos had wondered why the squaw had promised to take Anne to
Brewster, and had decided that probably the Indians were bound in that
direction when they fell in with Anne. This was really one reason, but
it was Anne's mention of the name of Freeman that had made the squaw
willing to do the girl a service. For the Freemans of Brewster had been
good friends to the Mashpee Indians, and the squaw felt bound to help
any friend of theirs.

She had questioned Amos sharply as to his reason for following Anne, and
Amos had told her the truth: that his sister had not treated Anne
fairly, so that Anne had been punished, and had run away. "So, of
course," added the boy, "I had to come after her and be sure that she
was all right."

The squaw understood, and evidently thought well of Amos for his
undertaking. Anne felt much happier to know that a friend was close at
hand, and that Amos on his return home would tell her Aunt Martha
Stoddard that she was safely in Brewster. But the lost bundle troubled
her a good deal. As she sat in the swiftly moving canoe and watched the
steady dip of the paddles she thought that the Indians had been very
good to her. "If I had my bundle now I would give Nakanit the cape and
the beads; indeed I would," she said to herself.

The midsummer moon shone down upon the beautiful harbor. Every wooded
point or sloping field was plainly outlined in the clear water, and
there was the pleasant fragrance of pine and bayberry mingled with the
soft sea air. It was much pleasanter than journeying in the sun. The
squaw and Nakanit began to sing, and although neither Anne nor Amos
understood the words, they were both sure that the musical notes told of
birds flying over moonlit water.

It was midnight when the squaw turned the canoe toward shore. It proved
to be the mouth of a small inlet up which they went for some distance,
Amos keeping close behind.

"Look, Anne!" he exclaimed as the Indians stopped paddling. "There is a
camp-fire. I do believe it's the Mashpee village."

"Sshh," warned the squaw in a sharp voice. At the sound of the boy's
voice a number of dark figures appeared to spring up from the ground,
and the squaw called out a word of gre