King Philip, sachem of the Narragansetts. Gookin and Eliot were fully persuaded, from their own knowledge, that the Indians under instruction were then sufficient in numbers, with constancy and sincerity for the emergency, if they had been judiciously managed, to have been most effective allies of the whites in that war; and that their settlements were in fact admirably adapted to be a wall of defence. But from the outbreak of that havoc of burning, pillage, and carnage arose horrid apprehensions of treachery fostered in the Indian towns. Rumors that Philip's runners and messengers were engaging in the bloody work all the natives, even of distant tribes, filled the air. Tribes heretofore hostile to each other and harmless towards the English were said to be in the league. The darkest jealousies, which could not be reasoned with, popular panics, and bruited or whispered suspicions, had full sway. The word was, “We have been nourishing vipers.” It was affirmed that, either by artifice, or threats, or promise of reward, Philip would sooner or later induce the converted Indians to make common cause with him as spies or traitors. This jealousy was natural, and is not to be wondered over. The magistrates seem to have tried to withstand it. Many of their first measures in dealing with it were considerate and forbearing, as they remonstrated with the popular excitement, and endeavored to restrain it, manifesting a true sympathy with the suspected and odious parties. But it was all in vain. Just enough cases also did occur, which, when aggravated by rumor and generalized upon, seemed to warrant suspicion and distrust of all the Christianized Indians. Some few who had settlements in the towns, and a larger number of those who had never committed themselves directly to the experiment on trial in their behalf, slipped away into the woods. In three instances barns or outbuildings in exposed situations were set on fire, as was suspected and alleged, by Indians who had been under the kindly care of the whites. In no in-
