ecame more and more
filled with a sullen desire for revenge. In the ethics of the North
American Indian, there was but one mode of gratifying this feeling.
Nothing would suffice but the blood of the offender. This fearful code,
with all its horrors, was felt alike by the innocent and the guilty,
when Philip and the hour came.

Meanwhile the plantation at Pocomtuck was increasing in strength and
prosperity. The rich soil of the meadows yielded an abundance of Indian
corn, wheat, rye, barley, beans, and flax. Game of every kind was plenty
and easily secured. Flocks of turkeys, pigeons, geese, and ducks were
all about them in the woods and waters. The forest also furnished
condiments, in the form of sugar from the sap of the maple tree, and
honey from the heart of the "bee tree." The rivers teemed with choice
fish; herds of deer were so common as to impress the name of "Deerfield"
permanently upon the settlement. Peace and plenty smiled on all, and the
foundations of the little community seemed firmly established. The
planters had come to stay. In 1673, a minister had been secured in the
person of Samuel Mather, a Harvard graduate of 1671. In 1675, they had
already "a little house for a meeting-house, yt they meete in," and were
building a dwelling for the minister. None dreamed that the horrors of
an Indian war were so soon to overwhelm them and change the whole aspect
of nature and of human affairs in this quiet valley. The news of the
outbreak at far-off Plymouth, in June, 1675, raised no fears in them.
The attack on Brookfield, August 2, opened their eyes, and preparations
for defence were pushed with vigor. The swamp fight under the shadow of
Wequamps brought the war to their very doors; and, on the first of
September, the settlers were called upon to defend their homes against
the attack of those who had hitherto been considered trusty friends.

The days of peace and plenty were over for this unhappy people. On the
slaughter of Lothrop and the "Flower of Essex," at Bloody Brook,
September 18, this chosen land was deserted and given back to the
wilderness.

After seven years of wandering, such of the survivors as had courage
enough returned to the desolate scene of their former prosperity; but
the progress of resettlement was slow and painful. Fortifications were
built, old and young trained for soldiers, watch and ward kept night and
day, scouts ranged the surrounding forests, and all were constantly on
the alert.