Rebekah’s heart leapt when the men finally returned. While the gathering of adults buzzed with news, she grabbed Will by his sleeve and pulled him aside. “Tell me everything that happened,” she commanded.
Will told her how he knew he would never forget that August night. Every rustle of brush had rung in his ears. The muffled steps of his companions sounded like thunderclaps. Surely any listening Indian could hear the hard beating of his heart.
At last they reached their destination. The rescue party fired their muskets into the air. A wave of terror filled the Indian village. Men, women, and children were ordered not to stir, and Captain Standish marched into Corbitant’s hut.
“Corbitant isn’t here,” Captain Standish called minutes later.
The next instant, some braves made a dash for the woods, straight toward the spot where Father had pushed Will down behind a log and ordered him to stay! Will flattened himself on the ground and shoved his face in his arms. Shots rang out, followed by cries. Will burrowed deeper behind the log. Then a shout brought him to his feet.
“Come, Will. The danger is past.” Father reached for Will’s hand and then pointed to a tall figure.
“Why, it’s Squanto,” Will gasped. “I thought he was dead!”
“Neither dead nor injured,” Father explained. “The people here know nothing of Corbitant’s wicked doings. See, they are bringing food.”
“But the shots!” Will protested. “Men cried out.”
“Some of the Indians were frightened by us and were afraid we had come to harm them. They tried to run away, and our men, thinking those who were fleeing were working with Corbitant, started shooting. Three of the Indians were injured by musket fire, but they will be fine,” Father assured him. “Thank God, there was no more bloodshed than this. The rumor about Massasoit appears to be just that—a rumor. Captain Standish says we shall take the wounded braves back to the settlement and dress their wounds. We will keep and care for them until they are able to travel back to their own people. This will bring goodwill between us and the Indians.”
Will suddenly felt weak in the knees. At last, he had been in an actual raid. But Indian braves had been injured in the attack. He decided that fighting the Indians was not as exciting as he had thought. It was terrible!
“Were you frightened?” Rebekah asked. “Yes, I was,” he confessed.
She didn’t answer for a time. Finally, she asked him quietly, “Do you still want to go adventuring?”
“Yes, but not on Indian raids. I’d rather be a fisherman than an Indian fighter. Does that make you happy?”
Her green eyes shone. “More than I can say.”
“All the time I was lying behind that log, I thought how awful it would be to have to run back with news of a massacre! Or how you’d feel if Father or I got killed. I still like adventuring—hunting animals for food and discovering new things. I don’t like hunting people. Perhaps we have to in order to protect our settlement, but if we could just have peace, I’d be happy.”
“So would I.” Rebekah slipped her hand in his, then ran off to help their mother. She couldn’t help but wonder what would happen next in Plymouth Colony.
CHAPTER 13
Thanksgiving and Good Fortune
For the next month, many of the Indian chiefs praised the settlers for the way they had handled the incident. Some sent messengers from many miles away to offer their tribes’ friendship. Others claimed themselves to be loyal subjects of King James. To everyone’s surprise, even Corbitant offered peace through King Massasoit.
Autumn brought more work: Will and Rebekah spent hours with their neighbors, preserving and drying as much food as possible from their small harvest. They had already dried berries and fruit that had ripened earlier in the year. The settlers did not intend to go hungry this winter. The men explored more of the country around them, made treaties with other tribes, and traded trinkets to the Indians for beaver skins.
Then great news came. Will burst into the Cunningham home and shouted, “Mother, Rebekah, Governor Bradford has declared a celebration, and it is to last three whole days!” “When?” Rebekah demanded. “Why? Who is it for?” “Soon,” Will told her. “It’s a time for giving thanks that
God has brought us through our first hard months in the New World. Everyone in New Plymouth will join together and …” Will hesitated, and then burst out, “Massasoit and his tribe are to be our honored guests!”
A broad grin spread over his face, making him look more like the mischievous boy who had boarded the Mayflower than the young man he was starting to become. “Squanto says we may have ninety Indians here for the feast.”
“Ninety? Mercy on us,” Mother gasped. “Think how much time it will take to prepare enough food for one meal, let alone three days of celebration!”
“Governor Bradford says everyone in the colony must help.” Rebekah could see that Will was thoroughly enjoying himself. “The Indians have promised to bring deer and wild turkeys. Four of the men have been sent to kill wild ducks and geese. Father and I will join others in fishing, plus gathering shellfish and eels.”
“I suppose the girls and women will have to cook all this.” Rebekah made a face. “Well, someone else can take care of the eels, slimy old things.”
“You don’t have to do all the cooking,” Will promised. “Governor Bradford says the younger children are to turn the great spits over the open fires where the meat roasts. They also will gather nuts and watercress.”
“We will have to make great kettles of corn and beans,” Mother planned. “Oh, my. Think of the baking. We will need journeycake and cornmeal bread and—”
“Be sure to make enough food,” Will interrupted. “Indians are always hungry.” He grinned. “Me, too.” His mouth watered.
“I hope they don’t eat up all the good things before I get a chance at them.”
“Remember, son, they are our guests and will naturally be served first,” Mother said firmly, but her eyes sparkled with fun. “However, I can’t imagine there not being enough food for all.”
“There isn’t room in the common house or any of the other houses,” Rebekah pointed out. “How can we feed so many people?”
“The men will lay planks on sawhorses,” Will said. “We’ll eat outside.”
Rebekah peered out the open door at the warm, mid-October sunshine. “God has already decorated for our feast, hasn’t He?” She smiled.
“Indeed He has,” Mother agreed. “I have never seen a more beautiful sight than the colored leaves against the dark green forest. There were times when I wondered if we would all be here to see them together.”
“Why, Mother! You never told us you were afraid,” Rebekah said in wonder.
Mother wiped her eyes with one corner of her apron. “Every time I cared for the sick, it was as though I cared for one of you or Father.”
Will and Rebekah looked at each other. How hard it had been for Mother, who had bravely kept her fears to herself for the sake of her family. Rebekah put her arm around her mother’s waist and whispered, “It’s all over now.”
“Yes, child.” Mother’s beautiful smile bloomed like a flower after rain. “Now is a time for giving thanks to our heavenly Father. Come. There is much to be done.”
“Mother spoke well,” Will told Rebekah days later when the feast began. “I never, ever saw so much food, not even in Holland.”
“That’s ‘cause we didn’t have almost a hundred hungry Indians coming for dinner!” Rebekah giggled. She nodded toward the brown-skinned people who had swarmed into the settlement. “Does Massasoit ever laugh? I’m not afraid of Squanto now, but Chief Massasoit makes me feel a little strange when he comes. He’s so serious—perhaps because he is the king.”
“He is serious, but look at his people. They’re really having a good time.”
Rebekah couldn’t help staring. The tribes chattered away in their own language. They laughed and poked one another in the ribs, evidently sharing private jokes.
And how they ate!
“Are you sure there will be any food left for us?” Will questioned. “You’d think the Indians hadn’t eaten for months.”
Rebekah rolled her eyes. “If you had helped prepare as much food as Mother and I did, you wouldn’t ask such a question. If I never see a dish of succotash again, it will be all right with me.”
Rebekah liked the games and contests almost as much as the food. She was pleased when Will won some of the races, while she enjoyed playing stool ball, a game in which a leather ball stuffed with feathers was driven from stool to stool. But she liked the parade best. One man blew a trumpet. Another beat a drum. Men marched and fired their guns.
Rebekah wasn’t sure what she thought of the Indian dancing. Their dances were beautiful to watch, but their chants made chills race up and down her spine. After she got used to the strange noises, though, she decided they were beautiful, too.
At last, the three-day celebration ended. The great mounds of food were no more. Thanks and praise to God for His goodness still echoed throughout New Plymouth. Will patted his full stomach and watched the Indians prepare to leave. “I hope we have another feast next year,” he told Rebekah.
“It was hard work, but so do I,” she said. “I don’t know if we will, though.” She sighed. “If only all the Indians were our friends, we could eat together and have peace. They aren’t. The Narragansetts hate us. Remember the snakeskin tied to the bundle of arrows they sent? Squanto said it was a challenge that meant they wanted war.”
“It didn’t frighten Governor Bradford and his counselors,” Will proudly reminded her. “They refused to back down and returned the snakeskin with powder and shot and the message we had done no wrong. The message also said if the Narragansetts would rather have war than peace, they’d find us ready to fight. The arrow came back, but there has been no attack. Don’t worry, Rebekah. A strong fence surrounds our settlement, and every night a man stands guard. Our men are ready to fight at the first cry of fire or attack.” He smiled at his hardworking sister. “Besides, God has taken care of us so far. Perhaps war will never come.”
Rebekah already knew all those things, but hearing Will repeat them made her feel better.
Early in November, the Pilgrims took stock of their harvest.
Their high spirits fell with a thud. The small harvest simply had not produced enough to see them through another winter. Governor Bradford called the people together. “We planned for much larger crops,” he soberly said. “Since this did not happen, we must take harsh measures. The ration of meal to each person must be cut in half.”
A ripple of protest swept through the assembly. “There is no other way,” he told them. “Otherwise, we shall be no better off than we were last year.” The people reluctantly agreed they had no choice, but many looked at one another in fear. How could they get by on a half ration of meal?
A few days later, everyone forgot their troubles for a time. Will brought the news to Mother and Rebekah. “A ship is on the horizon,” he shouted. “It is coming nearer and will soon anchor in the harbor!”
“Is it the Mayflower?” Rebekah asked.
Will shook his head. “This looks like a much smaller ship. Mother, Rebekah, do you think any of our friends from Leiden will be aboard?” His brown eyes sparkled at the idea.
A little worry frown creased Mother’s forehead. “Perhaps. I do hope the ship’s hold is filled with food supplies. Even by going on half rations, we barely have enough for those already here.”
When the Fortune anchored and its passengers came ashore, every person in New Plymouth eagerly awaited them. Fourteen long months had passed since the Pilgrims had left England. Now, new, strong people had come to help settle the colony. Supplies from the ship would give strength to continue with the task.
But joy over greeting friends from Leiden soon changed to dismay. Although young and strong, the newcomers were terribly unprepared. They didn’t have any food—not even biscuits. They also didn’t bring bedding and pots and pans, and most of them had very few clothes. Many of them had sold their coats and cloaks at Plymouth in order to get money for the voyage from England.
“It’s not fair,” Rebekah complained. “They should have brought supplies. Everyone here is tired. Now we have to take these people in and care for them!”
“Didn’t God send Samoset, Squanto, and Massasoit to help us?” Father asked. “We will share what we have.”
Will said, “Those on the Fortune felt the same way we did when we first saw Cape Cod. They were afraid we had all been killed in an Indian massacre or died of hunger. The captain said he had just enough food to take the crew on to Virginia. No provisions were sent for the settlers.”
Rebekah watched her brother’s face flush with anger. “Will Weston sent a letter bawling us out for not sending cargo back to England on the Mayflower. He said the Adventurers are furious and would never have lent us money if they’d known they wouldn’t start getting some back soon.” Will scowled. “More than half of us died, and all they can think of is their precious money. And Will Weston dared to sign himself our very loving friend!”
“I hope Governor Bradford sends a message back telling those people all we have gone through,” Rebekah indignantly added.
“I am sure he will reply in a manner suited to a godly man,” Father quietly told his family. “Just because others are ill-mannered and judge us unfairly does not mean we are to answer in anger.”
Rebekah hung her head. Would she ever be as patient and good as Father?
By mid-December the Fortune was ready to sail back to England. It was loaded with cargo, including many beaver and otter skins that would begin paying off the money that the Pilgrims owed. Robert Cushman also traveled on the Fortune, carrying a contract signed by the Pilgrims. Although the terms were harsh, the colonists had their charter and for the first time were legal owners of New Plymouth.
Will and Rebekah watched the ship until it disappeared over the horizon. “So much has happened, I wonder what is ahead,” Rebekah mused.
Will gently tugged on one of her dark braids. “Whatever it is, we know God loves us and will take care of us.” He proudly raised his head. “Governor Bradford says, ‘As one small candle may light a thousand, so the light here kindled has shone unto many, yes, in some sense to our whole nation.’ “
“As long as the world lasts,” Rebekah mused, “do you think people will learn about the Pilgrims and how we came to a land where we could worship God in the way we believed right? Even more of our people will come, but I’m glad we were the first.”
Will nodded. “I love the New World, don’t you, Rebekah?”
Rebekah thought hard before she answered. Did she feel it had all been worth it? All the hardship and misery, sickness and death, starvation, and fear of attack? She glanced at the dark,
ever-mysterious forest and shivered. She turned toward the sea. Sometimes it danced and sparkled, but it often roared with wind and storm. Last of all, she looked at her brother. He had grown up so much in the past months. She knew the day was coming when she would no longer feel so responsible for him, when she could trust him to make wise decisions for himself.
“Well?” She could see on his face that he was hoping with all his heart that in spite of everything, Rebekah shared his love for their new home.
A smile tipped her lips up and a happy laugh rang out in the cold December air. “I love our new home, too,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else in the whole wide world.” Her words hung in the cold December air, and mischief came into her face. “Race you home!” She took off in a whirl of skirts, happy laughter floating back over her cloaked shoulder.
Thank You, God, she prayed while she ran. Thank You for keeping us safe. Thank You for blessing us here in our new home.
Maggie’s Dare
Norma Jean Lutz
A NOTE TO READERS
In 1744 and 1745, the Great Awakening, a revival that swept through the American Colonies, w
as at its peak, led by the Reverend Jonathan Edwards. While many of the first English settlers in New England had left their homes either because of a desire for religious freedom or because they wanted to tell Native Americans about Jesus, many of their descendants over one hundred years later did not know what it meant to have a personal relationship with Jesus. Going to church was simply something “good people” were supposed to do. Jonathan Edwards and other leaders of that time were used by God to “awaken” the people to a personal love for Jesus.
Maggie’s Dare also reminds us that slavery was common in the Northern colonies, as well as in the South. Although there were always some people who fought against the evil of slavery, it took two hundred years and the Civil War before slavery was outlawed in the United States.
CONTENTS
1. The Launch
2. High Tea
3. Washday Blues
4. A Splendid Idea
5. The Invitation
6. Aunt Lucille’s Problem
7. The Mystery Girl
8. Maggie’s Best Birthday
9. The Christmas Ball
10. The Embarrassing Accident
11. Consequences
12. The Journey
13. The Never-Ending Party
14. Maggie Dares to Help
15. Free at Last
CHAPTER 1
The Launch
Maggie Baldwin struggled to restrain the excitement bubbling up inside her. Her younger brother, Caleb, at age eight, could run about the Souder shipyard with abandoned glee. But at age twelve, she was expected to use decorum befitting a lady. The moment their father, Dr. Reidan Baldwin, pulled their small black carriage to a halt, Caleb leaped down and began running and hopping about.
Maggie wished she could run right alongside him. Instead, she waited for her father to secure the harnesses and come around to help her down. Controlling her hoops while getting in and out of a carriage was a skill she’d not yet perfected.
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