A shallop, or small vessel employed by the colonists in fishing, had picked up at sea, at a considerable distance from the land, a canoe containing some half a dozen Indians, who were on the point of perishing from hunger. They were Taranteens, who had probably ventured out too far from the Main, and been caught in a storm, and swept out by currents, until they lost all knowledge of their situation, and had been for some days paddling about in the fogs, which prevail in those latitudes near the coast, in a vain attempt to retrace their course to land. The starving wretches had been taken on board the shallop, and instead of being destroyed as they expected, had been kindly treated, and brought in safety to Boston, where they were presented to Winthrop. The Governor, politic as well as humane, seized the favorable opportunity to cultivate a better understanding than had hitherto existed between his own people and the eastern tribes. He was completely successful in making the impression he desired upon the rescued Taranteens; and when they took their departure, loaded with presents, it was with a lively regret that they had not sooner become acquainted with a people so hospitable and generous. Among their number was an inferior chief, endowed with the gift of eloquence, which often exists in a high degree among the red men. His eulogies of the colonists on his return were so glowing, and his representations were so well confirmed by his companions, that the exertions of the Frenchmen were no longer able to stifle their curiosity to know more of their neighbors, especially as the report of their returned tribes-men effectually contradicted the monstrous fictions which had been invented to deter them. Such was the origin of an embassy which was a source of fear to the French, and of hope to the English.