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Show Page 190 hard as I tried to erase it, to wash it away with my tears. As if on signal, the good folk of Wolstenholme Towne raised their voices in cries of pain and terror. I knew not what was happening. Then, at the house nearest me, I saw John Boys stagger into his yard, his head bloodied. An Indian followed, beating him about with an ax. John fell and the Indian turned back into the house. I heard Mistress Boys shriek and her babe scream and I covered my ears, though the sound ended almost as soon as it had begun. My heart told me why, for I now realized what was happening. 'Twas not Margaret who had made Twig yelp, for the Laughing King had spoken true, while Opechancanough had spoken false. The Indians were killing the settlers. Screams rended the morning air all about. The sound turned everything watery within me. Then I felt a charge race through me as though a bolt of lightning had hurtled down my spine. Then I felt soft inside again. I sat perched upon my limb and knew not whether to cimb up or down. First I wanted to scramble down the tree and flail at those who hurt the folk I cared for. Then I wanted to crawl 'neath the bark of the maple and shut out the screams of terror with prayers to God for deliverance. Christopher Guillam and Thomas Combar, who had been working in the fields with three bondsmen, had raised their |