Problems in Plymouth Read online

  “You’re not members of our colony. And so you’ll have to wait outside,” Governor Bradford said. He went with a group of men into a two-story building.

  “There seems to be a lot of trouble around here,” Beth said to Patrick.

  “I wonder if Hugh has anything to do with it?” said Patrick.

  Patrick paced back and forth outside the meetinghouse. Beth drifted over to the door.

  “Patrick,” she whispered. “I can hear what they’re saying.”

  Patrick joined her at the door.

  The men were arguing. One was concerned about Squanto. What would they do if he had been killed? Another man asked why they should help Chief Yellow Feather. “These are Indians fighting against Indians,” he said. “It’s none of our business.”

  Governor Bradford said, “It is our business! We signed a treaty with Chief Yellow Feather. He helped us find young John Billington. We promised that we would protect each other. We promised that we would fight for each other.”

  “Treaties are often broken,” said another man.

  “Perhaps so,” said Governor Bradford. “But not by us. As Christians we will act with honesty and loyalty.”

  Another man said, “It’s foolish to put ourselves in danger. Do you want to die protecting savages? There are fewer than twenty men here.”

  The governor spoke loudly and clearly. “Chief Yellow Feather and Squanto are our friends. We wouldn’t have survived without their help.”

  A man with a deep voice shouted, “Confound it! Our action must be swift and sure. We must show that our people—and the friends of our people—are not to be wronged.”

  “Captain Standish is right,” proclaimed the governor. “We’ll rescue Squanto, or we’ll die trying.”

  The Doctor

  Governor Bradford made an announcement. Captain Myles Standish would take ten men to rescue Squanto the next morning. None of the Pilgrim children would be allowed to go.

  That night the cousins stayed with the Billingtons. Mrs. Billington let Beth sleep on a straw mattress. Patrick had to sleep on the floor.

  Beth fell asleep listening to Mr. Billington grumble. He said that he didn’t like Captain Standish. He also didn’t like the treaty with the “savages.” He didn’t trust them.

  The next thing Beth knew, someone was shaking her shoulder. She opened her eyes. Patrick was staring down at her.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked quietly.

  “We’re going to follow the rescue team,” Patrick whispered.

  Beth sat up. “But we’re not allowed to go,” she said.

  “The Pilgrim children aren’t allowed,” said Patrick. “We’re not Pilgrims.”

  “It will be dangerous,” Beth said.

  “We have to take that chance,” Patrick said. “I think Hugh has something to do with this.”

  Beth agreed. She got up. She and Patrick sneaked out of the Billingtons’ house.

  The Plymouth men had gathered. They stood at the edge of the woods.

  “We have to stay back so nobody sees us,” Patrick said. They made their way through the plantation. They hid around the side of a small shack.

  Suddenly a voice said from behind them, “Did I hear you say you’re going along?”

  Beth stifled a scream. Patrick spun around. It was John Billington Junior.

  “What are you doing here?” Patrick whispered.

  “I’m going with you,” said John.

  “Governor Bradford said you can’t,” Beth said.

  John shrugged as if he didn’t care what Governor Bradford said. “Besides,” he said. “I know this area better than you do.”

  “Oh, really?” Beth said. “Then how did you get lost?”

  John ignored her. “We want to stay close to him.” He pointed to a short man with red hair.

  “Who’s that?” Patrick asked.

  “That’s Captain Myles Standish. He’s in charge of our military,” John said. He leaned forward and grinned. “My brother and I sometimes call him Captain Shrimp!” He said it with a giggle.

  Patrick saw the rescue party leaving. He moved to follow.

  Beth and John did too.

  But a man’s voice said, “Oh no, you don’t!”

  Mr. Billington grabbed his son by the collar.

  “But I want to go!” said John Junior.

  “After all the trouble you caused us?” Mr. Billington asked. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  Then Mr. Billington looked at the cousins. “You two,” he said. “Come help with chores. No one gets to eat for free.”

  He dragged his son away. Patrick and Beth had no choice. They followed the Billingtons back to the house.

  Late the next day, the search party returned. The Pilgrim men brought back three Native Americans: two warriors and one squaw.

  Beth could tell that all three natives had been hurt. They walked slowly. Blood covered their clothes.

  Beth wondered what had gone wrong. She wanted to talk to Patrick, but he was out working in the fields with John Junior and his brother, Francis.

  The Englishmen brought the natives to the meetinghouse.

  Governor Bradford asked Beth to help the doctor. Now Beth was allowed inside the building. She learned that the natives had been shot by accident.

  Beth thought Dr. Fuller looked older than most of the Pilgrim men. His head was bald on top. But he had bushy white hair around the sides of his head.

  Beth went into the meeting room. The wounded Native Americans lay on straw mattresses. Beth and two Pilgrim women helped Dr. Fuller. They placed damp cloths on the foreheads of the patients.

  Dr. Fuller opened a wooden chest. He took out some herbs and a small knife. Then he mixed a paste with herbs, hot water, and bread. He spread the paste on cloths. He placed the cloths on the wounds.

  The Native Americans slept.

  Beth waited and prayed silently. She asked God to heal the Native Americans.

  “The wounds don’t look too bad,” Dr. Fuller said. “All three Indians should be fine.”

  About three hours passed. The patients woke. They sat up and looked at Dr. Fuller. They made motions with their arms.

  “It looks like they want to go home,” Beth said.

  The natives got up. Then they walked out of the meetinghouse.

  Dr. Fuller and Beth followed them. “Don’t leave,” he said to the natives.

  “We’ll take care of you,” Beth called out.

  The Native Americans didn’t seem to hear them. The men and the squaw slowly walked away.

  Beth felt sad. A few minutes later, Captain Standish and Governor Bradford came to the meetinghouse.

  “I saw the Indians leaving,” Captain Standish said.

  “We did all we could,” said Dr. Fuller.

  “You’re a good man, Dr. Fuller,” Governor Bradford said. “I’m sure they are leaving as our friends.”

  “More likely not. We shot them,” Captain Standish said. He shook his head.

  “What happened in the village?” Dr. Fuller asked.

  “The men and I waited until dark at the Indian village,” Captain Standish said. “Then we moved in. We wanted to search for Squanto peacefully. But something went wrong. I thought I heard someone shout ‘fire.’”

  “Who was it?” Governor Bradford asked.

  “I didn’t recognize the voice,” Captain Standish said. “I think it came from a stranger.”

  “Another hostage?” Dr. Fuller asked.

  “I don’t know,” said the captain.

  Beth caught her breath. Could it have been Hugh? she wondered.

  “Then the Indians screamed,” Captain Standish said. “We fired our muskets.” He paused and looked at the floor.

  “What about Squanto?” Dr. Fuller asked.

  “He wasn’t there. It was all a mistake. Squanto wasn’t kidnapped. Someone made up the story to cause trouble,” said Captain Standish.

  Hugh, Beth thought.

  “That’s too bad,” Dr. F
uller said. “Will the tribe seek revenge?”

  “Let’s hope they see that we are men of action. They’d be wise not to attack us,” the captain said.

  “What if you’re wrong?” Governor Bradford asked. “What if they decide to join together against us?”

  Captain Standish said, “Then we need to prepare for an attack!”

  The Missing Musket

  All the men of Plymouth Colony were called in from the fields.

  Patrick came with them. He complained about his aching muscles.

  Beth told him about the wounded Native Americans. She also told him about the voice Captain Standish had heard.

  The cousins decided to go back to the meetinghouse. It was the center of the plantation’s military strength. It also had a second floor where they could see everything that happened.

  On that floor, a large cannon sat next to two very small ones. Cannonballs were stacked nearby. Some of the balls were the size of oranges. Others were the size of large beans.

  Beth peeked out of a hole in the wall. A cannon barrel was meant to fit in the hole.

  “The men are marching,” she said.

  Patrick looked through another hole. Governor Bradford marched with the men.

  Then Captain Standish ordered them to load their weapons.

  The men obeyed. Patrick watched a man take a small pouch of gunpowder from his belt. He poured the gunpowder into a long musket barrel. He dropped a musket ball down the barrel. Then he picked up a long stick. He packed down the powder and the ball.

  To shoot, the man had to light a rope fuse. That would set the gunpowder on fire.

  “Fire when ready!” the captain shouted.

  The men dropped to one knee and fired at targets in a nearby field.

  Blam!

  “That’s a lot of work,” Patrick said.

  “How can they fire more than one shot in a battle?” Beth asked.

  “Bows and arrows are faster,” Patrick said.

  Beth looked up, thoughtful. “What is Hugh up to?”

  Patrick paced around. “Do you think Hugh wants to be a chief?”

  Beth shook her head. “They wouldn’t trust a white man to be their chief,” Beth said. “Maybe he’s causing trouble to draw us out.”

  Patrick nodded. “Hugh wants the ring. So he’ll come here to get it.”

  “Which means he’s sneaking around here somewhere,” Beth said with a shiver. “I don’t like that.”

  There was a commotion down below. Patrick and Beth leaned through the cannon holes.

  “Calm down and speak plainly, boy,” Captain Standish was saying to John Billington Junior.

  “Someone has stolen my musket, sir.”

  “Stolen? That seems unlikely,” Captain Standish said. “Where did you last see it?”

  “Outside my house. I leaned it against the wall. I went back inside to get my powder horn,” John said.

  “When was this?” Captain Standish asked.

  Mr. Billington stepped forward. “It happened around the time the wounded Indians left us,” he said.

  “Do you believe they stole the gun?” Governor Bradford asked him.

  “They must have,” said Mr. Billington.

  Captain Standish shook his head. “I watched the Indians leave. They carried no weapons.”

  “Well, someone took my son’s musket!” Mr. Billington said.

  Patrick and Beth looked at each other.

  “Hugh,” the cousins said.

  Patrick and Beth raced down to the ground floor. They caught up to John Junior at his house.

  “John,” Patrick said, “think back to when your gun was taken. Did you see a stranger?”

  “I know everyone here,” he said. “I saw no strangers.”

  “Did anything strange happen when your gun was taken?” Beth asked.

  John thought for a moment. “I thought my brother Francis was playing a prank on me.”

  “What kind of prank?” Patrick asked.

  “Hiding around the corner and spying on me. I was burying the gunpowder barrel under the storeroom,” John said. “I thought I saw him out of the corner of my eye.”

  “Why was the gunpowder barrel buried under the storeroom?” Patrick asked.

  “So our enemies won’t find it,” John said.

  John lifted the cow’s horn that was around his neck. It hung from a leather strap. “My father sent me to get the gunpowder for our horns,” he said.

  “Then what happened?” Beth asked.

  “I brought the gunpowder back here to fill our horns,” John said. “I stepped outside with my gun. But I forgot my horn. So I went back inside to fetch it.”

  “What happened after that?” Beth asked.

  “When I came outside again, my musket was gone,” John said. “At first I thought my brother had taken it. But it couldn’t have been him. He was over in the field with my father.”

  Patrick looked at Beth. It had to be Hugh.

  “How am I going to fight the Indians now?” John said. He frowned. He picked up a thin sword. It was slightly bent and rusty. “This will have to do,” he said and walked off.

  Beth and Patrick walked back in the same direction. They headed toward the marching men.

  “What can Hugh do with one musket?” Beth asked. “Will he shoot us to get the ring?”

  Patrick said, “What if Hugh used the Imagination Station to take a musket back to his time? In 1450 they didn’t have guns like that. He’d be the most powerful person back then. It would change history.”

  “Can we really change history in the Imagination Station?” Beth asked.

  “I think we’re changing it by being here,” Patrick said. “But I don’t know if it stays changed. We can’t take any chances.”

  The cousins picked up their pace.

  They reached the men. Everyone looked nervous. Some looked afraid.

  “What’s wrong?” Patrick asked John Junior.

  “A scout just came in,” John replied. “A large army of Indians is coming.”

  The Treaty

  Captain Standish was small, but his voice was not. “We will make our stand at the edge of the woods,” he shouted to the Pilgrims. “We can hold the Indians off there.”

  The cousins watched everyone scramble around. Some took fighting positions. Others ran for cover.

  Patrick watched for Hugh. He might use a battle to get to them.

  Captain Standish and his men gathered on the crest of a small hill. They formed two lines. One group of men knelt in front. The other group stood up behind them. All of the men had their muskets pointed toward the forest.

  “Don’t fire until I give the word,” Captain Standish said.

  For a few moments, it was very quiet. The only noise was the chirping of the birds.

  Phhht!

  A single arrow came out of nowhere. It stuck into a tree behind Captain Standish.

  “First line fire when I say!” Captain Standish said. The men took aim.

  “Wait!” a voice called out. It was Governor William Bradford.

  Captain Standish turned. “What is it, governor?”

  Governor Bradford went to the arrow. “This arrow has a wrapping.”

  “A wrapping?” the captain asked.

  The governor pulled the arrow from the tree. “There’s a piece of leather wrapped around the shaft.”

  “Keep your eyes on that forest,” Captain Standish said. He came over to Governor Bradford. The governor untied the leather. The cousins came closer.

  Governor Bradford held up the leather wrap. Scratched into it was the word peace.

  “Is it a trick?” Captain Standish asked.

  “What Indian knows how to write in English?” Governor Bradford asked.

  “There is only one,” said Captain Standish. “Squanto!”

  Patrick leaned toward Beth. “Or Hugh?”

  Governor Bradford held the leather note like a flag. He walked toward the woods.

  “Don’t be a
fool!” Mr. Billington shouted after him.

  Governor Bradford called out. “Squanto!”

  Patrick and Beth braced themselves. If this was a trick, the governor could be seriously hurt.

  “Squanto! If you want peace, then come out!” the governor said.

  One by one, Native American men rose up from the bushes. They came out from behind the trees.

  One stepped out from the rest of them. He wore a white man’s jacket. He approached Governor Bradford.

  “My friend,” the man said.

  “Squanto!” Governor Bradford said.

  Patrick and Beth sighed with relief.

  Governor Bradford held Squanto’s arm. “I’m happy to see you alive.”

  Squanto pointed to three people nearby. Patrick recognized them as the natives who had been wounded. “Thank you for healing them,” Squanto said.

  “We’re sorry they were hurt,” Governor Bradford said.

  “You thought I was in danger,” Squanto said. “You have honored the treaty.”

  Squanto bowed down in front of Governor Bradford. “We now wish to honor you,” Squanto said.

  The governor looked embarrassed. He touched Squanto’s shoulder. “Stand up, my friend. Let us honor all of our people.” He looked as if he had an idea. “A feast!” he said. “We shall host a feast. Will you and Chief Yellow Feather’s tribe join us?”

  “I’ll ask Chief Yellow Feather,” Squanto said. “I’m sure he will say yes.”

  Captain Standish told his men to stand down. With a smile he announced, “There will be no war today.”

  A few of the men clapped their hands. Everyone looked relieved.

  “A feast?” Beth said to Patrick. “Could that be the first Thanksgiving?”

  Patrick nodded. “It must be.”

  “But what about Hugh?” she asked.

  “We have to stay close to everyone else,” Patrick said. “Hugh wants the ring. He won’t get that without us.”

  “A feast is the perfect way for him to sneak in,” said Beth.

  The cousins looked at one another nervously.

  Thanksgiving