He urged Job to go along with him but the other spy refused to do so.
“But you will be killed,” urged James, “when they discover my absence. They will at once suspect that you are a spy, and that means death.”
Job shook his head.
“You go,” he said. “I don’t blame you for that. But I am going to stay for a while. It may mean life or death, but I am willing to take my chances.”
Nothing that James could say would shake the determination of Job. So the younger Indian started on the return journey to Boston alone. There had been severe storms and the snow lay deep on the ground. It was necessary for the Indian to wear heavy snowshoes and this made traveling all the more difficult.
When the Indian spy reached Boston he had a tale of unparalleled hardships to relate to his white friends. But more important than that was his story of the plans of the Indians against the settlers in and around Lancaster. He was highly praised for the effective work he had done and was showered with attentions by the white men and their families. For the first time since the beginning of what is popularly known as King Philip’s war an Indian was treated as though he were a human being.
Indeed, it is no exaggeration to state that the exploit of the two Indians did more to reinstate the redskins in the good graces of the whites than anything that had occurred in years.
But curiously enough the settlers did little or nothing to protect themselves against the expected attack. The very warning which should have put them on their guard seemed to lull them into a false sense of security. There were two reasons for this. The first one was that the suspected danger was comparatively remote—a matter of weeks in fact. Another and more important one was the desire to get further and fuller information from the other Indian scout. Job was the shrewder and more capable of the two messengers. It was just possible that the abrupt departure of James might arouse the suspicion of the savages and cause them to entirely revise their plans. James was closely questioned concerning his companion.
“Why didn’t he come back with you?” he was asked.
James shrugged his shoulders and threw out his hands in a gesture of hopelessness.
“He very stubborn man. Have his own way. No listen to poor James.”
“Do you think he intends to come back?”
At this suggestion of possible disloyalty on the part of his friend the Indian became very indignant. He was so angry that he found it impossible to express himself coherently. But his manner, if not his words, perfectly satisfied the questioner of the perfect good faith of Job. As a matter of fact it was never seriously doubted and the white man who propounded the query felt ashamed at having put the unworthy suspicion into words.
In the meantime Job found himself in an embarrassing and really dangerous situation. With the flight of James the savages, for the first time, became skeptical concerning the motives of the two visitors. The chief Sachem sent for Job and put him through a severe cross-examination. But Job was shrewd and told them a cock-and-bull story that satisfied their curiosity. As a result of this he was treated with even more consideration than when he first arrived in camp. He was fearful lest the Sachem should want him to accompany him on the proposed visit to King Philip. He knew that to go before the big Chief would be taking his life in his hands. Finally, to his great joy, the Sachem decided that he should not go on the trip.
The next three days were days of great anxiety to the spy. He knew that the emissary to the King would bring final plans for the attack on the whites and he was fearful lest anything should happen to deprive him of this much needed information. So he exerted himself to the utmost in order to keep the good will of the savages. As a result of this they virtually took him to their bosoms. In speaking of this afterwards he said that he felt no compunctions of conscience. He did not feel that he was betraying them but rather that he was engaged in an honest attempt to save human life.
He took part in their amusements, which helped to while away the time. One of the most popular of the games was called “hunt the button,” a diversion somewhat akin to that which is enjoyed by children the world over. This was played at night when the natives, in paint and buckskin, seated themselves around a tepee, with the fire blazing bright in their faces, as they swung their hands in time with a rhythmic chant. This was indulged in by both sexes. Also they played the game of “deer-foot.” In this a number of cylindrical bones, usually taken from the foot of the deer, and perforated with several holes around their sides, were strung on a cord, which had at one end several strands of beads and at the other a long needle. The object was to toss the string, with the beads upon it, in such a way as to catch in the point of the needle, which was retained in the hand, any designated one of the bones or bead strands.
KING PHILIP, OR METACOMET.
But presently the Sachem returned from his visit to the King and from the air of activity which prevailed Job realized that something important was on hand. It did not take him long to find out that that something was war. Clubs that were armed with jagged teeth of stone were brought from their hiding places and sharpened. Javelins, lances and arrows became very much in evidence. The arrows were most numerous. They were made of hard wood and with a feather from the eagle. These various weapons were not unknown to Job, of course, but his own tribe was composed of more peace-loving Indians and they were not in the habit of using the more destructive weapons.
Finally one night the Sachem gathered the most important men of the tribe about him and outlined the plans of King Philip. Job, who was still in the confidence of the savages, was permitted to hear all that was said. The proposal was shocking, even to a redskin. The intention was to destroy the whites at one blow, if that were possible. The day and the hour at which the descent was to be made upon Lancaster was fixed and the method of attack outlined. This was news indeed, and vastly more important than that which had been carried to Boston by James.
Job Kattenanit knew that the hour had come to act. With haste he would have time to warn the threatened settlers, but with not a minute to spare. Creeping away, he made for the edge of the camp. Fortunately most of the Indians—aside from those who were attending the council of war—were asleep. He passed one sentinel unobserved and gained the fringe of the encampment in safety. The road to Boston was familiar to him and he counted on reaching there by dusk on the evening of February 8th.
But just as he struck the main road leading to his destination there was a cry of anger and dismay from the Nipmuck camp.
His flight had been discovered.
Instead of halting he redoubled his speed. From time to time he heard savage cries and he knew that he was being pursued. The thought of giving up never once entered his mind. It was too late to retreat now. The Nipmuck Indians had been credulous enough, but it would be impossible to deceive them any longer. Job was in fine physical condition and he ran with the swiftness of a deer. But his enemies were equally fleet-footed and it seemed only a question of time when he would be overtaken. Nearer and nearer came the footsteps in the rear. He felt that there must be a number of Indians in the party, but evidently they did not have time to give a general alarm.
Just when he was congratulating himself on the possibility of outrunning his pursuers an arrow whizzed past his head. This was a new danger and one that he had not anticipated. He paused for a second and turned to look at the men who were after him. Instantly a well-directed arrow struck him in the chest within an inch of the region of the heart.
A heavy blanket covered the fleeing redskin, and with that momentary pause and turn the arrow had penetrated the covering. But, as by a miracle, it went no further. The Praying Indian wore a metal charm on his breast, suspended by a string fastened about his neck. That saved his life.
In that trying moment the shrewd Indian made his resolution. To pull the arrow out and run ahead again only meant postponing the inevitable. Instead of that, he paused motionless for a second, then swayed to and fro, and fell flat on his back.
Everything depended upon the success of this ruse. It was, perhaps, half a minute before the Nipmuck