HEN Massasoit and his people returned to their camp in the
forest, Squanto did not go with them.
"Many, many moons ago wigwams of Squanto's people stand here,
and here," he said, pointing to the shore and the brookside.
"Many canoes on shore. Many camp fires on hillside."
"Did your tribe move to some other place, Squanto?" asked
"No," answered the Indian, sadly. "Black sickness come.
Papoose all die. Squaws all die. Chief and braves die.
Only Squanto get well. Squanto come home now, and live with
The Pilgrims were glad to have Squanto live with them, for
he helped them in many ways. He knew every path in the
forest and was their guide when they went there to hunt. He
knew just where the deer went to drink, and in which streams
to find the busy beavers.
He taught the pilgrims how to make a trap near the spring
where the deer came to drink. He bent down a strong branch
of a tree and fastened it to the ground. When the deer
stepped upon the end of the branch, it caught his
foot and flew up, carrying the deer high in the air.
 "This is a cruel trap, Squanto. We will never use it if we
can get food any other way," said William Bradford.
"No, better to shoot deer," answered Squanto. "Poor Indian
not have gun like white man."
He taught them how to make a snare of willow twigs and put
it in the brook to catch fish. He knew how to make a bear
trap of logs, and how to call the wild ducks and other
Squanto could go through the forest without making a dry
leaf rustle or breaking a twig. He could lie down on the
ground and move through the tall grass without being seen.
When the Pilgrims and the Indians met to trade, Squanto
could always tell each what the other said. "How could we
ever talk to the Indians if Squanto should die?" thought
Edward Winslow. "I think I will learn the Indian language
while Squanto is here to teach me."
So the Indian became Winslow's patient teacher, and when
these two were together they used the Indian language. This
pleased Squanto very much, for English was hard for him.
The printed page was a great wonder to Squanto. He called
it the "speaking paper." Indians sometimes wrote with paint
upon a great flat rock, or with a bit of charcoal upon a
piece of birch bark, but their writing was all in pictures.
Squanto was eager to learn to read the white
 man's books. "Teach Squanto to make paper talk," he said to
Winslow one day.
So that evening when the candles were lighted, Squanto came
to Master Winslow's house for his lesson. There were no
primers or first readers in Plymouth then, but Winslow took
down his Bible.
It was the book from which he had learned to
read; he would teach Squanto
Every evening the Indian and his friend bent over the old
book, spelling out its wonderful stories.
One day Squanto came in from the forest, carrying a little
oak branch in his hand. Pointing to its tiny leaves, he
said, "See! oak leaves big like squirrel's foot. Time to
plant corn now."
Then he went down to the brook and set a snare to catch the
fish as they swam up the stream. The next morning Elder
Brewster met Squanto coming from the brook with a large
basket full of little fish.
"Why, Squanto!" he said. "What are you going to do with
those tiny fish? They are too small to eat."
"Indians plant corn in these fields many times," answered
Squanto. "Ground hungry now. We
 must feed the hungry earth." So he showed the Pilgrims how
to put two little fishes into each hill of corn. They were
glad to do as Squanto taught them, for they had never
planted corn before.