“You tell lies!” The sachem’s voice deepened to an angry growl. “You English spy. You make show you Wachoosett. You put red juice on your body and feather in your hair. You say you go with message from Woosonametipom Sachem to English at Brookfield village. You tell so to my warriors when they find you in forest. You not make fool of Philip! You tell me truth, David!”
“I have told you the truth, King Philip. If you doubt me, you need but send a messenger to Woosonametipom. He will tell you that I speak truth.”
The sachem wagged his head from side to side and motioned fretfully with the hand that held his pipe. “I not believe. You spy. Maybe I kill you, maybe I not. You answer me truth what I ask; we see. How many fighting men this Captain Hutchinson have?”
“I do not know.”
The sachem rewarded him with a sidelong, drooping glance that sent a chill down the boy’s spine and spoke with the younger Indian in native language. Then for several minutes King Philip spat questions at David, seeking, it appeared, to learn what forces
