The next day we went on over a rough road to Wenham, through Salem, which is quite a pleasant town.

Here we stopped until this morning, when we again mounted our horses, and reached this place, after a smart ride of three hours.

The weather in the morning was warm and soft as our summer days at home; and, as we rode through the woods, where the young leaves were fluttering, and the white blossoms of the wind-flowers, and the blue violets and the yellow blooming of the cowslips in the low grounds, were seen on either hand, and the birds all the time making a great and pleasing melody in the branches, I was glad of heart as a child, and thought if my beloved friends and Cousin Oliver were only with us, I could never wish to leave so fair a country.
Just before we reached Agawam, as I was riding a little before my companions, I was startled greatly by the sight of an Indian.

He was standing close to the bridle-path, his half-naked body partly hidden by a clump of white birches, through which he looked out on me with eyes like two live coals.

I cried for my brother and turned my horse, when Robert Pike came up and bid me be of cheer, for he knew the savage, and that he was friendly.