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  A little wave of approval sounded from the listening men.

  “Write down all our ideas, that we may agree or disagree with them,” came the suggestion. “Here is paper. Put on it those things needed to make us a strong colony, one that rules itself.”

  It took time to list the ideas, to agree even on what would be put down. John grew restless. He wished they would hurry and finish so he could tell Sarah everything he had heard. Even though she would not join his spying, he knew she wanted to hear what had happened.

  At last the agreement was reached and signed. It began by saying, “In the name of God, Amen. We whose names are underwritten, the loyal subjects of our dread sovereign King James, by the grace of God, of Great Britain, France, and Ireland, king, defender of the faith …”

  Questions filled John’s mind. Why must they declare loyalty to someone who had treated them so badly?

  The agreement went on to state that the travelers had undertaken their voyage to plant the first colony in northern Virginia for the glory of God, the advancement of the Christian faith, and the honor of the king and country.

  Again John was confused. How could one honor a man, even a king, so wicked that he executed those who worshiped according to their consciences? John liked the final part of the agreement better. Those who signed it bound themselves to become a body to make fair laws and choose their own leaders as needed for the general good of the new colony. They agreed to obey the will of the majority and vote for rules and leaders.

  Make their own laws? Not wait for King James to tell them what to do? Crouched beneath the sails, John covered his mouth with his hands to hold back a cry of excitement. Never before had English colonists broken free from their king’s rule! King James always appointed a governor, made rules, and forced the colonists to obey without question, just as they had done in England.

  Now the people were free. For the first time in the history of the world, English men, women, and children would live under rules of their own making, rather than the king’s.

  John could not bear to miss seeing the men sign the paper. He crawled from his hiding place, taking advantage of the excitement in the room, and cautiously worked his way to just inside the door. Should anyone notice him, they would think he’d been drawn in by curiosity. John grinned mischievously. So he had!

  The cheering had long since given way to the seriousness of the moment. On tiptoe, neck craned, John watched the men sign, forty-one in all. Though young, they looked old from the hardships they’d faced during the ocean crossing. First to sign the paper was highly respected, godly John Carver, who had been given authority over the trip when the Mayflower sailed from Southampton. William Bradford, Edward Winslow, William Brewster, and Isaac Collins followed. Then Myles Standish strode forward, sword hanging at his side. Next came John Alden. One by one the men signed, heads up, shoulders back.

  The colonists took their first action by voting John Carver to continue as governor for a year. If he did not do a good job,

  someone else would be elected to replace him.

  John slipped out. His eyes burned. His mouth felt dry—more from the thrilling events he had seen than from thirst. He raced down the deck and waved to Klaus, who gave his usual grunt, followed by a twitch of his lips.

  “Sarah?” Words spilled out like beads from a broken string when John found her. He poured into her eager ears everything he could remember and triumphantly ended, “And our own John Carver will continue to be our governor!”

  She clapped her hands. The kindly man never failed to stop and talk with the children, no matter how busy he might be with the affairs of the colonists. When John repeated, “We are truly free, Sarah,” her face broke into a wide smile.

  Later that day, the Smythe family drew apart from the others. Father looked straight at John. “I fear I should punish you severely for spying again.”

  John’s heart leaped to his throat. He felt glad for the early evening shadows that partly hid his face. How had Father known? John cast a quick glance at Sarah, but she shook her head. Good old Sarah! She hadn’t told. Thankfulness ran over him. She never would, even though she no longer would let him lead her into mischief.

  “What do you have to say for yourself?” Father sternly demanded.

  A hundred thoughts chased through John’s mind. He would not lie. God surely hated a coward, who refused to accept punishment when he sinned. John looked into his father’s face.

  “I know I did wrong. I deserve whatever punishment you give me.”

  He spread his hands wide, unable to put what being there at the signing of the agreement meant to him. “I am sorry to have troubled you, but I cannot say I am sorry for hiding and listening.” He looked down.

  “For this time and this time only,” Father quietly said, “I am glad you followed curiosity’s leading. I would not have had you miss those moments. They will affect life in America for as long as the world stands!”

  John’s mouth fell open in astonishment. Sarah gave a surprised squeak. Mother sturdily said, “As am I. None present on the Mayflower will forget this day.” She laid one hand on her son’s rough hair. “My son, your father and I have seen how hard you struggle to be obedient. So has your heavenly Father. Continue trying, John. A man who cannot control himself is only half a man.” She and Father moved away together, leaving the children alone.

  Two Pilgrims slowly walked by. Their voices sounded hushed in the growing dusk. “Our new colony is to be called Plymouth,” one said.

  “Aye, and we are pioneers. Along with crops, we plant the light of God’s truth in this land to which He has brought us.” They passed on.

  “Pioneers.” John thrilled at the word. “Mother was right. If we live to be older than Methuselah, we will never forget this day. Soon we will go ashore.” He fell to dreaming of forests and Indians, wild game and tall grass.

  A small hand slipped inside John’s larger one. He looked at his sister’s troubled face. Sarah had grown braver and more independent during the hard journey, but she was still the little sister who loved and needed him.

  Mother’s words from what felt like a lifetime ago came back to John. Deal gently with her. He freed his hand and dropped an arm around her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Sarah. God helped us escape to a free country. He will take care of you.” He added, “So will I.”

  Sarah relaxed. “I know.”

  John squeezed her shoulder and proudly raised his head. He gazed at the unexplored shores of the New World and silently vowed, God, no matter what happens, I will keep that promise. Then he gently led his sister from the dark deck toward the flicker of light below. Father and Mother would be waiting. He grinned. A glint of mischief came to his eyes. So was the New World. He could hardly wait for tomorrow!

  Rebekah in Danger

  Colleen L. Reece

  A NOTE TO READERS

  Rebekah Cunningham and her brother are fictional characters, but they represent real children who came to America from England and Holland. The hardships they faced, both on board ship and in their new home, helped make our country a place where all can worship God in whatever way they choose.

  Although the main characters are fictional, this book is filled with incidents that actually happened. Many of the minor characters are true as well: Governor William Bradford, Captain Myles Standish, John Alden, and others. If not for Samoset, Squanto, and Chief Massasoit, the real-life American Indians who helped the Pilgrims, the colony at Plymouth would never have survived their first long and tragic year in the New World.

  CONTENTS

  1. A New Land

  2. Laundry

  3. Joy and Tragedy

  4. More Trouble

  5. Where Is Will?

  6. Fire!

  7. The Promise

  8. You Can’t Stop Me!

  9. Left. Right. Left. Right

  10. What Is a Samoset?

  11. Hair-Raising Stories

  12. Danger for Squanto!

  13. Thanks
giving and Good Fortune

  CHAPTER 1

  A New Land

  The New World, November 1620

  I’m tired of working,” eleven-year-old Rebekah Cunningham muttered to herself as she crawled into her familiar hiding place under the chicken coops on the Mayflower’s deck. On the long trip across the Atlantic, this cramped little corner had been her refuge when she needed a few minutes alone. Now she heaved a sigh of relief as she crept back into the tight nook.

  Mend this stocking, Rebekah…. Stir the pot … milk the goats … sweep the floor, Rebekah…. Mend this mattress…. Don’t forget to keep an eye on your brother, Rebekah…. Have you done your sewing yet, Rebekah? …. The list of chores never seemed to end. By the time she had one day’s worth of work done, it was nighttime—and then the next morning, she had to start all over again. She had been so excited about reaching land, thinking that once they were no longer at sea, life would be easier. Instead, things were just the same. If only they could all move off the Mayflower. Rebekah was tired of the stinky old ship. She wanted room to run. She was tired of tripping over someone every time she moved.

  When they had first set sail from Holland, it had all seemed like such a grand adventure. Rebekah knew that her parents had lived most of their lives in England, but she had been born in Holland, and she was both excited and terrified at the thought of seeing somewhere new. Her parents and the other Separatists had come to Holland so they could worship God the way they wanted, without the king forcing them to meet secretly.

  Rebekah had been happy in Holland. It was the only home she had ever known, and she had hated to leave all her friends. She worried about what it would be like to live somewhere ruled only by the strict Separatist leaders. The Dutch had sung and danced and laughed, and Rebekah had enjoyed visiting her friends’ homes, where everyone seemed to always be having a good time.

  But she knew this was the very thing that had worried the church leaders. The Separatists’ children were no longer separate. They were beginning to dress like the Dutch and act like the Dutch. They even talked like the Dutch. Meanwhile, the Separatist adults had such a hard time fitting in with the Dutch that it was difficult for them to find jobs and earn a living. The church elders also worried that Spain might conquer Holland, turning it into a Catholic nation. If that happened, the Protestant Separatists might face the same persecution they had endured in England.

  And so the Separatists had found English merchants who were willing to take them on board their ship to the New World. First, they had to travel to England, though. The whole thing had involved lots of complicated, grown-up arrangements that seemed to take forever.

  When they finally set sail from England, Rebekah and her brother, Will, could hardly keep still. They had run from one side of the Mayflower’s deck to the other, trying to see everything at once. The rise and fall of the deck beneath their feet, the sight of fish leaping from the waves, the way the moon looked sinking into the sea—each new experience filled them with wonder.

  But as their journey went on week after week, the wonder wore off. Their sleeping quarters were so cramped that there was never any room to move around below deck. Many people became sick, and the dark quarters smelled of vomit, diarrhea, and too many unwashed human beings packed into too small a space. The children grew tired of the meager meals, and their stomachs hurt. The exciting adventure had turned into long, dreary weeks that seemed as though they would never end.

  But now at last they were here in the New World. The Mayflower was anchored off the shore, and soon they would have a chance to go on land. But first they had to hear the news from Captain Standish, who had gone with a few other men to see what the land was like. Rebekah could hardly wait until she could finally go on shore. She longed to feel solid land beneath her feet. When she thought about eating fresh food again, her stomach growled with anticipation.

  She moved deeper into the shadows beneath the old coops. The chickens that had survived their journey clucked gently, eyeing Rebekah sideways from their beady eyes. She knew that soon one of the men would move the coops onto the land. But in the meantime, Rebekah was going to take refuge here one more time. She pushed back the curly wisps from her dark brown braids that poked out from her hood and tickled her nose. Then she snuggled her wool cloak more tightly around her shoulders and wrapped her arms around her knees. With a sigh, she let her mind drift into a daydream.

  “Captain Standish!” She recognized her ten-year-old brother Will’s voice, and she heard his feet race across the deck. Rebekah peeked out from a crack between the coops and saw the red-faced, mean-looking man who had been chosen chief military officer for the new colony in America. Her brother saluted smartly as he skidded to a stop in front of the captain. Rebekah pressed back deeper into the shadowy recess. She would be in big trouble if Captain Standish caught her shirking her duties.

  “What do you want, Cunningham?” Standish gruffly demanded. “Can’t you see I’m busy? The people are waiting to hear what our scouting party discovered. Step out of my way. I have to enlist volunteers for a longer exploration.” The corners of the captain’s mouth turned down. “I suppose it will have to be after the Sabbath. Anyway, we have to find a place for our permanent settlement. I don’t have time to waste standing here talking to you.” Standish waved his hand, as if to brush Will aside like a troublesome insect, and Rebekah’s blood boiled.

  Rebekah leaned forward to glimpse the pale November sunlight shining on Will’s short dark hair.

  “I know, sir. That’s why I stopped you. I want to go with the exploring party,” announced Will.

  Rebekah was proud to hear Will keep his voice steady.

  “You?” Standish laughed unpleasantly. “I need men, not lads. Try again in a few years, if we survive that long in this godforsaken land.” The corners of his mouth turned down. “We’ll be lucky if any of us are alive by the end of next year.”

  “Sir, I am almost eleven,” Will persisted. “I’m strong. I can also outrun every boy and most of the men on board ship.” Rebekah saw her brother flex his right arm and grin.

  Captain Standish planted his feet apart, his hands on his hips. He gave Will a sour, unconvinced look. “You’re a cocky one, aren’t you? I thought you Separatists were taught it’s a sin to boast.”

  “Is it boasting if you know you can do something well?” Will asked. “I only told you because I thought you might need a swift runner to carry messages.”

  Reluctance crossed the captain’s hard face. He looked Will over from the top of his head to the tips of his worn boots. “Hmm. You are tall for your age. Wiry, too.” He hesitated and tilted his head to one side. “I might be able to use you, at that.” Standish drew his brows together in a ferocious scowl. “Very well. You may go if your father agrees and—”

  “He plans to volunteer.”

  “Quiet, whelp!” Standish roared. “If you go, you are under my command. You will obey my orders, keep your mouth shut, and stay close to your father. Understand me?”

  “Yes, sir,” Will mumbled.

  “Dismissed.” The captain marched across the ship’s deck, his boots thumping loudly on the wood.

  Captain Standish barked, “I know you’re all waiting to hear what those of us who first stepped foot on the New World discovered in the brief time we were ashore. We saw no signs of habitation. The sand hills here are similar to the downs in Holland but better and wooded. We suspect there are miles of forests. We saw an abundance of oak and sassafras, pine and juniper. We saw birch and holly, some walnut and ash. Near the swamps are cedar and red maple.” His dour voice brightened. “Although we didn’t find any good water, we dug into the earth. It is rich, black, and good for planting.”

  A murmur of approval swept through the people on board. The first sight of the rocky coast had been less than promising. Rebekah knew that rich, black earth meant abundant crops.

  “I suppose it is too much to ask that any of you Separatists will consent to be part of an explorin
g party until Monday,” Standish continued, and Rebekah heard the sneer in his voice.

  “Monday will be time enough,” Governor John Carver quietly told him. “Tomorrow will be given over to preaching, praise, and prayer, as is our custom. Monday we will begin our work.” He cleared his throat gently. “My wife, Katherine, and the other women are eager to wash clothes. Did you find a place suitable for such a long-postponed purpose?”

  “Yes. There is a small pond not far away. The water isn’t good for drinking, but it will serve well for washing.”

  “Good. While the women and girls are scrubbing the stink of the voyage from our clothing, we men will separate into groups.” Governor Carver looked over their number. “I suggest that those who are too sick to be among the exploring party use the time searching for food.”

  “I agree.” Captain Standish took charge once more. “Cunningham,” he said, “if you consent to go with me, bring your son. He may prove useful, if he can live up to his boasting as to speed!” Loud laughter came from the group of people; then several men stepped forward to volunteer, Rebekah and Will’s father among them.

  Rebekah knew that she had best leave her hiding place now, while everyone was distracted. She quickly crawled out and stood up, smoothing her skirts. When she turned, she caught her mother’s eye, but Mother only smiled, and Rebekah hoped her mother hadn’t been watching her daughter creeping on her hands and knees from under the chickens.

  Lucky Will, Rebekah thought. He will get to go exploring, while I have to scrub mountains of laundry. Then her envy turned to worry. Would her brother and father be safe out in the wilderness? What if they were attacked by wild animals? What if something dreadful happened and they never came back?