CHRISTMAS [N AMERICA. 25

“Before Wetamoo joined Philip, one of her captains had sent
word to my grandmother that as she had been a friend to the
Indians, she should be protected.

“¢T have only one fear,’ said my grandmother often, during
that year of terror, —‘ Warmmesley.’

“ Warmmesley-Squammaney had gone away with Philip’s
braves under Wetamoo. He was one of Wetamoo’s captains.
Wetamoo herself had joined Philip, like a true warrior-queen.

“ The sultry August of 1676 brought a sense of relief to the
Colonies. The warriors of Philip were defeated on every hand.
His wife and son were captured; and broken-hearted he returned
to Mount Hope — the burial-ground of his race for unknown
generations —to die. Wetamoo, too, became a fugitive, and
was drowned in attempting to cross to the lovely hills of Pocas-
set on a raft. :

“The war ended. Where was Warmmesley-Squammaney?
No one knew. Annawon, Philip’s great captain, had been
captured, and nearly all the principal leaders of the war were
executed; but old Squammaney had mysteriously disappeared.

“Peace came. October flamed, as Octobers flame, and
November faded, as Novembers fade, and the snows of De-
cember fell. The Colonies were full of joy and thanksgivings.

“«T am thankful for one thing more than all others,’ said my
grandmother on Thanksgiving Day; ‘and that is that I am
now sure that old Squammaney is gone where he will never
. trouble us again. I shall never forget his evil eye as he said,
“Twill pay you!” It has troubled me night and day.’

“ That fall, when my grandmother was dipping candles, she
chanced to recall the old custom of the English town from
which she had come, of making a powder-candle for Christ-
mas. The spirit of merry-making was abroad upon the return