s--were already gathered. Here
they presently saw the fight in the meadow, and were told that if their
countrymen attempted a rescue, they should all be put to death. "After
this," writes Williams, "we went up the mountain, and saw the smoke of
the fires in town, and beheld the awful desolation of Deerfield; and
before we marched any farther they killed a sucking child of the
English."

The French and Indians marched that afternoon only four or five
miles,--to Greenfield meadows,--where they stopped to encamp, dug away
the snow, laid spruce-boughs on the ground for beds, and bound fast such
of the prisoners as seemed able to escape. The Indians then held a
carousal on some liquor they had found in the village, and in their
drunken rage murdered a negro man belonging to Williams. In spite of
their precautions, Joseph Alexander, one of the prisoners, escaped
during the night, at which they were greatly incensed; and Rouville
ordered Williams to tell his companions in misfortune that if any more
of them ran off, the rest should be burned alive.[63]

The prisoners were the property of those who had taken them. Williams
had two masters, one of the three who had seized him having been shot in
the attack on the house of Stebbins. His principal owner was a surly
fellow who would not let him speak to the other prisoners; but as he was
presently chosen to guard the rear, the minister was left in the hands
of his other master, who allowed him to walk beside his wife and help
her on the way. Having borne a child a few weeks before, she was in no
condition for such a march, and felt that her hour was near. Williams
speaks of her in the strongest terms of affection. She made no
complaint, and accepted her fate with resignation. "We discoursed," he
says, "of the happiness of those who had God for a father and friend, as
also that it was our reasonable duty quietly to submit to his will." Her
thoughts were for her remaining children, whom she commended to her
husband's care. Their intercourse was short. The Indian who had gone to
the rear of the train soon returned, separated them, ordered Williams to
the front, "and so made me take a last farewell of my dear wife, the
desire of my eyes and companion in many mercies and afflictions." They
came soon after to Green River, a stream then about knee-deep, and so
swift that the water had not frozen. After wading it with difficulty,
they climbed a snow-covered hill beyond. The minister, with