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was broken, and their hope of ridding the soil of the white intruders was gone. Philip, wandering from tribe to tribe, saw with grief that his efforts had been in vain. Many tribes deserted his cause, and hastened to make peace with the colonies. Most of his own brave warriors had fallen by the bullet or by disease. Troops of Indians fled for safety into Canada; Philip appealed in vain to the powerful Mohawks to come to his aid.

The heroic chief at last yielded to despair. He became a fugitive, flying and hiding from the pursuit of his enemies. He lay in swamps; he crouched in caves and forests; and at last crept with difficulty back towards Mount Hope, his beloved old home, the scene of his glory, and that of his fathers. On his way, his wife and young son, idols of his heart, were taken prisoners, and in his anguish he exclaimed, "My heart breaks. Now I am ready to die."

He was pursued by the brave and gallant Captain Church, who had now completely broken the power of the Indians in Massachusetts; and as Philip was on the eve of being captured at last, a traitor Indian shot him in a swamp where he lay concealed. Church, in accordance with the custom at that time, ordered the head of the dead chieftain to be severed from the body and carried to Plymouth, where it was set up on a pole, and remained in public view for several years. The body was quartered and hung upon trees. Thus did our less enlightened ancestors retaliate upon Philip for kindling the war.

Of the great tribe of the Narragansetts, scarcely one hundred men survived the war.

The young son of Philip, the last remaining sachem of the once happy and powerful tribe of the Wampanoags, and the last of the family of Massasoit, was sold into slavery in Bermuda.

One romantic incident of this famous struggle of the In

dians, on the one hand, for their ancient domain, and of the colonies, on the other, for the existence of white settlements in New England, is worth relating.

Equal in bravery and heroism to Philip was Weetamo, the queen of Pocasset. She was a proud and active woman, and ruled resolutely over one of the principal tribes. The seat of her domain was just across Narragansett Bay, opposite the promontory occupied by the Wampanoags. She was friendly to the Puritans. Shortly before the war she had wedded Alex

ander, Philip's elder brother; but as we have seen, Alexander suddenly died on his return from a visit to Plymouth.

When the war broke out, Weetamo resolved to join the whites against her Own nation. But Philip sought a council with her, and eloquently urged her to reverse her decision. He told her that Al

exander had been foully dealt with; that he had been poisoned by the English. He persuaded her of this, and she then resolved to lead her tribe into the contest as Philip's ally.

Weetamo had many adventures, accompanied her warriors, and inspired them with her presence. But the fate of war went against her, as against the rest, and she, like Philip, was forced to fly.

At last she was driven to the banks of the bay. There

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were no canoes; if she remained where she was she would surely be taken. She was resolved, however, to reach Pocasset, and jumping upon a hastily constructed raft, she attempted to cross the bay. But on the way over she was drowned. Her body was recovered by the English; the head was cut off and exposed to view on the green at Taunton, whereupon the friendly Indians who were there set up a dismal howl.

It is rarely that characters more heroic than Philip and Weetamo appear amid the contests of even highly civilized nations; and although their misfortunes resulted in the preservation of what was destined to be our great nation, we can afford to respect their patriotism, and admire their bravery.

THE STORY OF THE CAPTURE OF ANNAWON.

On that memorable August morning that Captain Benjamin Church and his party surprised and killed Philip, sachem of the Wampanoags, at the foot of Mount Hope in Rhode Island, a voice was heard in the woods calling out lustily:

"Gootash! Gootash!"

"Who is that?" asked Captain Church, of his Indian interpreter.

"That is old Annawon, Philip's great captain. He is calling on his soldiers to fight bravely."

As soon as Annawon knew that Philip had fallen, and that he could render him no further service, he fled. With a sorrowful heart he turned away from the green declivities overlooking the beautiful inland seas, the ancestral seat of the old Indian sachems, and the general burying-ground of the braves of the race.

He turned to the north, taking with him the poor, wretched, despairing remnant of the once powerful tribe of the Wampanoags.