“I protest,” said Winthrop, “that, however different my own opinion, I do half believe that these blinded savages in fact imagine their tribes-men were murdered by the whites.  To be deplored is it that such an opinion should get footing among them, staining as it doth our good name and pregnant with many possible evils.  Assure him, Sir Christopher, of my grief at what has happened; of my sincere desire to discover how Pieskaret lost his life; of what has become of his missing people; and of my readiness, if it can be shown that an Englishman has in anywise connection therewith, to render to the Taranteens perfect satisfaction.”

The Indian listened to all this with the deepest attention as it was explained to him, and then replied: 

“Pieskaret is gone, and his kindred will see him no more The eyes of his wife are swollen with weeping, and his children, like little birds in the nest, open their mouths for food; but Pieskaret comes not to fill them.  His feet were like those of a deer, and his voice like the shouting of the great salt lake on the rocks.  Woe is me, for I shall see my brother no more.  But he is glad on the happy hunting grounds of brave warriors.  It is well with him:  we know where he is, but we know not where are our brothers who were with Pieskaret.  We know that the English love slaves, and we fear that they have made slaves of our brothers.  We will turn away our eyes from the widow of Pieskaret and his little children, and will stop our ears so that we cannot hear their crying, and forget the fate of Pieskaret, if the white chief will return our brothers.”

“Alas! unhappy that I am,” said Winthrop, “that this new suspicion should fill the minds of the savages.  Assure him, upon my faith as a Christian—­upon my honor as a gentleman—­make the asseveration as solemn as thou canst—­that he suspects us falsely.”

But the grave chief abandoned not the idea.  With eyes searching the countenance of the Governor, he said: 

“The Taranteens will give many belts of wampompeag and will heap up their canoes with skins for Owanux, as a ransom for their tribes-men.”

“Tell him,” said Winthrop, “that, overlooking the insult of doubting my word, if they were to give me belts of wampompeag extending from here to the sun, and skins to cover the ground from Shawmut to his country, I could not restore his tribes-men, for I know nought of them.”

“When my brothers came to visit the white chief, they placed themselves in his keeping and feared not the darkness, for they knew that he was very powerful.  They slept like a pappoose on its mother’s bosom.”

“I understand,” replied Winthrop, “thou wouldst make me responsible in particular for the misfortune of thy friends; but my conscience reproaches me not If they are dead, it is probably in consequence of their own default; and, I repeat, I believe not that an Englishman had a hand in their destruction.”