ttled, although the season is forward, as compared with
the last; but I shall take good care as to clothing; and John Easton
saith we shall be but two nights on the way.

THE PLANTATIONS, May 10, 1679.

We left Boston on the 4th, at about sunrise, and rode on at a brisk
trot, until we came to the banks of the river, along which we went near
a mile before we found a suitable ford, and even there the water was so
deep that we only did escape a wetting by drawing our feet up to the
saddle-trees. About noon, we stopped at a farmer's house, in the hope
of getting a dinner; but the room was dirty as an Indian wigwam, with
two children in it, sick with the measles, and the woman herself in a
poor way, and we were glad to leave as soon as possible, and get into
the fresh air again. Aunt had provided me with some cakes, and Mr.
Easton, who is an old traveller, had with him a roasted fowl and a good
loaf of Indian bread; so, coming to a spring of excellent water, we got
off our horses, and, spreading our napkins on the grass and dry leaves,
had a comfortable dinner. John's sister is a widow, a lively, merry
woman, and proved rare company for me. Afterwards we rode until the sun
was nigh setting, when we came to a little hut on the shore of a broad
lake at a place called Massapog. It had been dwelt in by a white family
formerly, but it was now empty, and much decayed in the roof, and as we
did ride up to it we saw a wild animal of some sort leap out of one of
its windows, and run into the pines. Here Mr. Easton said we must make
shift to tarry through the night, as it was many miles to the house of a
white man. So, getting off our horses, we went into the hut, which had
but one room, with loose boards for a floor; and as we sat there in the
twilight, it looked dismal enough; but presently Mr. Easton, coming in
with a great load of dried boughs, struck a light in the stone
fireplace, and we soon had a roaring fire. His sister broke off some
hemlock boughs near the door, and made a broom of them, with which she
swept up the floor, so that when we sat down on blocks by the hearth,
eating our poor supper, we thought ourselves quite comfortable and tidy.
It was a wonderful clear night, the moon rising, as we judged, about
eight of the clock, over the tops of the hills on the easterly side of
the lake, and shining brightly on the water in a long line of light, as
if a silver bridge had been laid across it. Looking out into