First Savage Visitor

We two were standing just outside the door of my home, breaking twigs to be used for brightening the fire in the morning, when suddenly a real savage, the first I had ever seen, dressed in skins, with many feathers on his head, came into the village crying: "Welcome English!"

Women and children, all who were able to do so, ran out to see him, the first visitor we had had in Plymouth. His skin was very much darker than ours, being almost brown, and, save for the color, one might have believed him to be a native of Scrooby dressed in outlandish fashion to take part in some revel.

Father was the more surprised because of hearing him speak in our language than because of his odd dress; but we afterward learned that he had met, two or three years before, some English fishermen, and they had taught him a few words.

Very friendly he was, so much so that when he put his hand on my head I was not afraid, and I myself heard him talking with Master Brewster, during which conversation he spoke a great many Indian words, and some in English that I could understand.

His name was Samoset, and after he had looked around the village, seeming to be surprised at the manner in which our houses of logs were built, he went away, much to my disappointment, for I had hoped, without any reason for so doing, that he might give me a feather from the splendid headdress he wore.

As I heard afterward, he promised to come back again, and when, six days later, he did so, there was with him another Indian, one who could talk almost the same as do our people. His was a strange story, or so it seemed to me, so strange and cruel that I wondered how he could be friendly with us, as he appeared to be, because of having suffered so much at the hands of people whose skins were white.

Squanto had been a member of the same tribe that owned the land where our village of Plymouth was built, and his real name, so Governor Bradford says, is Squantum.