Wachoosett Indians near the Lone Hill, which, he had gathered from Monapikot, was a very tall mountain standing quite by itself far from any English settlement. Whether Woosonametipom meant to kill him or put him to torture or merely hold him prisoner, time alone could reveal.
After another hour’s progress, they emerged from the forest in a meadow that lay about a fair-sized pond. The dawn was close at hand and near-by objects were plainly discernible. Sequanawah pointed a naked arm, and David, following with his gaze, made out dimly in the grayness a great hill that loomed before them less than a mile distant.
“Great Sachem Woosonametipom him live,” said the Indian. “Quog quosh!”
So forward they went, skirting the pond wherein the frogs were already talking to each other in deep voices, and came presently to more woods. The ground began to rise and somewhere ahead a dog barked. Others answered. They were on a well-trodden trail that wound upward through oaks and maples and tall, slim pines. Suddenly a clearing was before them, a wide plateau near the foot of the mountain. Many
