Captivity and Restoration | Page 6

was the Sabbath. I then remembered how careless I had been of God's
holy time; how many Sabbaths I had lost and misspent, and how evilly
I had walked in God's sight; which lay so close unto my spirit, that it
was easy for me to see how righteous it was with God to cut off the
thread of my life and cast me out of His presence forever. Yet the Lord
still showed mercy to me, and upheld me; and as He wounded me with
one hand, so he healed me with the other. This day there came to me
one Robert Pepper (a man belonging to Roxbury) who was taken in
Captain Beers's fight, and had been now a considerable time with the
Indians; and up with them almost as far as Albany, to see King Philip,
as he told me, and was now very lately come into these parts. Hearing, I
say, that I was in this Indian town, he obtained leave to come and see
me. He told me he himself was wounded in the leg at Captain Beer's
fight; and was not able some time to go, but as they carried him, and as
he took oaken leaves and laid to his wound, and through the blessing of
God he was able to travel again. Then I took oaken leaves and laid to
my side, and with the blessing of God it cured me also; yet before the
cure was wrought, I may say, as it is in Psalm 38.5-6 "My wounds stink
and are corrupt, I am troubled, I am bowed down greatly, I go
mourning all the day long." I sat much alone with a poor wounded child
in my lap, which moaned night and day, having nothing to revive the
body, or cheer the spirits of her, but instead of that, sometimes one
Indian would come and tell me one hour that "your master will knock
your child in the head," and then a second, and then a third, "your
master will quickly knock your child in the head."

This was the comfort I had from them, miserable comforters are ye all,
as he said. Thus nine days I sat upon my knees, with my babe in my lap,
till my flesh was raw again; my child being even ready to depart this
sorrowful world, they bade me carry it out to another wigwam (I
suppose because they would not be troubled with such spectacles)
whither I went with a very heavy heart, and down I sat with the picture
of death in my lap. About two hours in the night, my sweet babe like a
lamb departed this life on Feb. 18, 1675. It being about six years, and
five months old. It was nine days from the first wounding, in this
miserable condition, without any refreshing of one nature or other,
except a little cold water. I cannot but take notice how at another time I
could not bear to be in the room where any dead person was, but now
the case is changed; I must and could lie down by my dead babe, side
by side all the night after. I have thought since of the wonderful
goodness of God to me in preserving me in the use of my reason and
senses in that distressed time, that I did not use wicked and violent
means to end my own miserable life. In the morning, when they
understood that my child was dead they sent for me home to my
master's wigwam (by my master in this writing, must be understood
Quinnapin, who was a Sagamore, and married King Philip's wife's
sister; not that he first took me, but I was sold to him by another
Narragansett Indian, who took me when first I came out of the garrison).
I went to take up my dead child in my arms to carry it with me, but they
bid me let it alone; there was no resisting, but go I must and leave it.
When I had been at my master's wigwam, I took the first opportunity I
could get to go look after my dead child. When I came I asked them
what they had done with it; then they told me it was upon the hill. Then
they went and showed me where it was, where I saw the ground was
newly digged, and there they told me they had buried it. There I left
that child in the wilderness, and must commit it, and myself also in this
wilderness condition, to Him who is above all. God having taken away
this dear child, I went to see my daughter Mary, who was at this same
Indian town, at a wigwam not very far off, though we had