er with great gratitude to information
contained in the foregoing chapter and obtained from the following
works:

The Indian and other Animalcula. By N. K. Boswell, Laramie City,
Wyoming.

How to Jolly the Red Man out of his Lands. By Ernest Smith.

The Female Red Man and her Pure Life. By Johnson Sides, Reno,
Nevada (P.M. please forward if out on war-path).

The Crow Indian and His Caws. By Me.

Massacre Etiquette. By Wad. McSwalloper, 82 McDougall St., New
York.

Where is my Indian to night? By a half-bred lady of Winnipeg.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER IV.

THE PLYMOUTH COLONY.

In the fall of 1620 the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth during a
disagreeable storm, and, noting the excellent opportunity for future
misery, began to erect a number of rude cabins. This party consisted of
one hundred and two people of a resolute character who wished to worship
God in a more extemporaneous manner than had been the custom in the
Church of England.

They found that the Indians of Cape Cod were not ritualistic, and that
they were willing to dispose of inside lots at Plymouth on reasonable
terms, retaining, however, the right to use the lands for massacre
purposes from time to time.

The Pilgrims were honest, and gave the Indians something for their land
in almost every instance, but they put a price upon it which has made
the Indian ever since a comparatively poor man.

Half of this devoted band died before spring, and yet the idea of
returning to England did not occur to them. "No," they exclaimed, "we
will not go back to London until we can go first-class, if we have to
stay here two hundred years."

During the winter they discovered why the lands had been sold to them so
low. The Indians of one tribe had died there of a pestilence the year
before, and so when the Pilgrims began to talk trade they did not haggle
over prices.

In the early spring, however, they were surprised to hear the word
"Welcome" proceeding from the door-mat of Samoset, an Indian whose chief
was named Massasoit. A treaty was then made for fifty years, Massasoit
taking "the same."

Canonicus once sent to Governor Bradford a bundle of arrows tied up in a
rattlesnake's skin. The Governor put them away in the pantry with his
other curios, and sent Canonicus a few bright new bullets and a little
dose of powder. That closed the correspondence. In those days there were
no newspapers, an