192 OVER ON THE ISLAND

Stratagem was their only resort. But how could they, who numbered only seventy, accomplish any- thing with bows and arrows and hatchets, against the thunder and lightning of the white men?

Events, however, precipitated themselves. The white men invaded the oyster beds—the Indians’ cherished reserve of food. Attack was necessary. Immediately the savages set out to surprise them. Cautiously they approached, and suddenly they attacked. The forest re—echoed with war whoops and the clash of blows. Soon Cabot and Wamptook found themselves face to face. Furiously and vigorously they fought. Both combatants were wounded but they fought on. Only the arrival of an ally saved Cabot’s life. Wamptook and the savages fled to the woods, while the pale-faces, minus eight of their number, returned sorrowfully and hurriedly to their boats.

Thirty-five years later, the great Wamptook was finally captured by the English—but only after he had been desperately wounded. Immediately he began his death song, relating all his great exploits. Then his soul passed to the happy hunting-ground where the game never fails, the sun never sets, and the land is eternally fertile.

Of course, historians generally agree now that Cabot never saw Prince Edward Island. Still, it is an interesting story

I left Princetown with a lump in my throat. For I should like to see the promise of her youth fulfilled. I should like to see a busy metropolis on this lovely spot with boats, big and small, plying their way in and out of the harbour; the streets lined with cars; and