The Jesuit Relations and Allied Documents, 1640-1655, Abridged

=The Jesuit Relations and Allied Documents, 1640-1655, Abridged=

Editor: Reuben Gold Thwaites

The original French, Latin, and Italian Texts, with English translations, 1896-1901. Translation to modern English, 2016.

EDITORIAL STAFF:

Editor Reuben Gold Thwaites

Editor John Swapceinski (2016)

Finlow Alexander [French]

Percy Favor Bicknell [French]

John Cutler Covert [French]

William Frederic Giese [Latin]

TRANSLATORS:

Crawford Lindsay [French]

Mary Sifton Pepper [French & Italian]

William Price [French]

Hiram Allen Sober [French]

John Dorsey Wolcott [Latin]

Assistant Editor Emma Helen Blair

Bibliographical Adviser Victor Hugo Paltsits

The original English translation is housed on the College of Arts and Sciences webserver at Creighton University. The physical volumes were scanned and transcribed by Thom Mentrak, Historical Interpreter at Ste. Marie Among The Iroquois, and then formatted and organized by Rev. Raymond A. Bucko, Jesuit. Editing and further translation by John Swapceinski.

YEAR 1640
LETTER FROM FATHER JEROME LALEMANT OF THE JESUITS, TO CARDINAL DUKE DE RICHELIEU. FROM THE HURONS IN NEW FRANCE. MARCH 28, 1640.

Monseigneur,

The Gospel has been announced to more than ten thousand Indians, not only in general, but to each family, and almost to every person individually; more than a thousand have been baptized, in the extraordinary epidemics which have come upon them, and of these, many little children, at least, have taken flight to Heaven; and we have endured many persecutions.

Among the difficulties that we see is the proximity of the English and Dutch, who line the seacoasts on our side, and who excite and strongly fortify the courage of the enemies of the tribes allied to us, among whom we live, and by whose means alone we can advance farther, either to the south or to the west. The enterprises of these hostile nations having succeeded, especially within a few years, they have reduced these poor peoples here to such a degree that I do not think, unless the evil be stopped at its source, that they can much longer exist. In less than ten years, they have become reduced from thirty thousand people to ten thousand; so that if in the past, when their numbers were great, they were unable to resist their enemies, what can we expect for them in the future?

And although they might prove strong enough to resist them in their own country, we must at least expect to see their trade with our French entirely broken off, -- for the enemies become every year stronger and more formidable upon the river, which is the only road they have for access there. This rupture would be, for us, equivalent to their ruin, since it would render us unable to subsist here longer, and to carry on among them the affairs of our Master, which cannot be done without communication with our France.

It seems as if heaven expects from your fervor and generosity that, as you could not suffer heresy and foreigners to take deeper root in France, so you will not permit them to gain a foothold in this new jewel of the crown. It would seem that God has reserved to Your Eminence the execution of all the wishes of France, even as regards New France. Some time ago, the expulsion of the French Protestants, who occupied the midst of these lands, was so eagerly desired; without Your Eminence, the thing would still remain to be done, to the great detriment of the welfare of this country. I regard it as certain that not for a hundred years, and perhaps never, shall we see ourselves rid of these other enemies of God and of the State, if Your Eminence do not put your hand to this work.

The Hurons, New France, this 28th of March, 1640.

Jerome Lalemant,

of the Jesuits.

LETTER FROM FATHER JEROME LALEMANT, SUPERIOR OF THE HURON MISSION, TO THE REVEREND FATHER MUTIO VITELLESCHI, GENERAL OF THE JESUITS, AT ROME. 1640.

WE have had 5 Missions in these regions of the Hurons, -- preaching the Gospel to more than 10,000 Indians. We had the tongue, and they the ears, and yet, while they were sound in body, they did not hear; therefore God to pulled their ears through a disease, which spread over the whole country, and sentenced many to the grave. Still, they have become no better, -- nay, they are even more incensed at us than usual, and have turned upon us as if we were the authors of all their troubles. I do not know with what slanders they have not loaded us; they have come to threats, to hostility, to private and public councils respecting our slaughter, and finally to blows, -- but light ones, and not yet stained with much blood.

We wonder that we are even now alive; for -- besides the fact that we are here without any soldier or local defense, -- since we have not even a grain of native Corn, except as these Indians sell, it was easy for them to cut off our food, and this they have apparently striven to accomplish. And yet, neither for us nor for our 27 servants has anything at all been lacking in the way of food and clothing: nay, even all things were abundantly supplied to us at a cheaper rate than to the natives themselves.

More than 1,000 were baptized from among the dying, among whom a great number of children prevented an unhappy life by a happy death.

Among the Hurons in New France, 1 April, 1640.

Jerome Lalemant

LETTER FROM FATHER JACQUES BUTEUX TO THE REVEREND FATHER, MUTIO VITELIESCHI, GENERAL OF THE JESUITS, AT ROME. 1640.

Reverend Father,

Six years have elapsed since I was sent to the Canadian province; I have spent the same number of years in the residence of the Conception of the Blessed Virgin at Three Rivers, concerning which I have a few things to write. I am now serving my fourth year as superior.

This residence is situated on the banks of a river which flows into the famous river Saint Lawrence by three mouths, from the north. The climate is healthy; the soil adapted to bearing fruits not only for our fellow countrymen, -- namely, wheat, barley, peas, and vegetables of every kind, -- but also Indian grains. It is everywhere cut up by numerous rivers and marshes; and these are abundant in fish. It is loved nearly as much by the French as by the Indians. These, not in great numbers, publicly abused us when we first landed here as the authors of a certain mortal disease, by which they were consumed. But finally this opinion has receded far from their minds. They regard us as parents; they become gentler; and those who, beyond the memory of men, were accustomed to seek their food through the forests, begin this year to have fields and fixed abodes the same as we. It is a necessary help for training them and keeping them in the Christian duty.

Their number grows and will increase from day to day. For they strive to allure to us, by means of rewards, other Indians, both neighboring and remote, with whom they deal; and to unite these with themselves as fellow citizens. Since we have been occupied among them, we have baptized about 500; most of whom (certainly the children) are enjoying heaven.

To this there contributes the singular prudence of the Governor of this new world -- Sir Charles de Montmagny, a military man -- which keeps all things in due order.

Concerning the upper parts of New France, I Will briefly say what I have learned from the Indians: between the north and the south are some Stationary nations, abounding in towns and men. To these, no European has come, -- at least not a European herald of the Gospel.

Jacques Buteux.

At the Residence of the Conception at Three Rivers.

LETTER FROM FATHER JOSEPH MARIE CHAUMONOT TO THE REVEREND FATHER MUTIO VITELLESCHI, GENERAL OF THE JESUITS, AT ROME. FROM THE HURON COUNTRY, MAY 24, 1640

Reverend Father,

I arrived in the Huron country, in New France, on the 10th of September, 1639, after a painful and dangerous voyage of three months, which was followed by a journey of another month upon rivers and lakes, and through forests.

There are thirteen Fathers of us here, all French, with some young men who are given to us for the care of worldly matters, and who take the place of lay Brothers. Our manner of living will seem in Europe strange and full of hardship, but we find it quite easy and agreeable. We have neither salt, oil, fruits, bread, nor wine, except what we keep for the mass. Our entire nourishment consists of a sort of soup made of Indian corn, crushed between two stones, or pounded in a mortar, and seasoned with smoked fish, -- this served in a large wooden dish. Our bed is the ground, covered with a piece of bark, or, at the most, with a mat.

The extent of our mission comprises this year thirty-two hamlets or villages, in which not a single cabin remains where the Gospel has not been proclaimed. Many Indians have received baptism; most of these, the Victims of an epidemic which has ravaged the whole country, are in heaven, we hope.

This malady has been the occasion for many slanders and persecutions, excited against us under the pretext that we were the authors of the scourge.

None of us, however, have perished in this tempest, although some have been beaten, and others have seen the hatchet raised over them, and near to their heads.

Joseph Marie Chaumonot.

From the country of the Hurons, May 24, 1640.

LETTER OF FATHER JOSEPH MARIE CHAUMONOT TO THE REVEREND FATHER PHILIPPE NAPPI, SUPERIOR OF THE PROFESSED HOUSE AT ROME. FROM THE COUNTRY OF THE HURONS, MAY 26, 1640.

Reverend Father,

Last year, I wrote that after three months of difficult navigation I arrived in New France, but that I still had to proceed three hundred yards further into the wilderness. Here follows the account of this journey.

On the eve of saint Lawrence, I embarked in a canoe of Huron Indians (therefore this people is called), on the great river which bears the name of that glorious martyr; in some places it is 25, 30, 50 miles wide. For 250 miles of its course, its waters are salt, and the flow and ebb of tides is there perceptible. It is also subject, due its width, to storms, like the Ocean.

Father Poncet embarked at the same time with me; but four days after the departure we had to separate, leaving our first canoe to get into two others, singly. We were, however, to go together, so that almost every evening we found ourselves together to eat and pass the night with the guides of our bark canoes; and often we even had the great consolation of saying Mass in the morning before starting; but this was the only consolation during the whole voyage, which was thirty days for me and thirty-two for Father Poncet, -- the most laborious journey possible.

Having arrived at the end of this voyage, I found eleven of our Fathers, distributed in three Residences to be nearer to important villages, which they desire to instruct and civilize. Our houses are of bark, like those of the Indians, and without interior partitions, except for the chapel. For lack of a table and household utensils, we eat on the ground, and drink from the bark of trees. The whole apparatus of our kitchen and of our refectory consists of a great wooden dish, full of sagamite, whereto I see nothing more similar than the paste which is used in covering walls. Thirst hardly annoys us, -- either because we never use salt, or because our food is always liquid. As for me, since I have been here, I have not drunk in all a glass of water, although it is now eight months since I arrived. Our bed is made with a piece of bark, upon which we put a blanket nearly the thickness of a Florentine coin. Respecting sheets, there is no mention of them, even for the sick. But the greatest inconvenience is the smoke, which, for lack of a chimney, fills the whole cabin and spoils everything that one would keep. When certain winds blow, it is no longer possible to stay there, because of the pain felt by the eyes. In winter, we have no other light by night than that of the cabin fire, which serves us for reciting our prayer book, for studying the language, and for everything. By day we use the opening left at the top of the cabin, -- which is at once chimney and window. Such is the manner of living in our residence; as for the one that we observe when we go on a mission, you must know that although these Indians practice among themselves certain rules of hospitality, with us they apply them not. We are, therefore, obliged to carry with us a few little knives, awls, rings, needles, earrings, and such like things, to pay our hosts. We carry also a blanket in the guise of a cloak, which serves to wrap us in at night.

The way of announcing the word of God to the Indians is not to mount a pulpit and preach in a public square; we must visit each cabin in private, and beside the fire explain the mysteries of our Faith. They have no other place of meeting for transacting their affairs than the cabin of one of their captains.

I should never have imagined a hardness like that of an Indian heart, brought up in unbelief. When they are convinced of the folly of their superstitions and of their fables, and when one has proved to them the truth of the faith, it would be necessary, to finish winning them, to promise them that baptism will give them prosperity and long life, -- these poor peoples being susceptible only to worldly goods. That does not result from stupidity; they are even more intelligent than our rustics, and there are certain captains whose eloquence we admire, -- acquired without many rules of rhetoric. Their obstinacy in unbelief is produced by the difficulty which they find in the observance of the commandments, and especially of the sixth.

Last winter, there was not a single cabin in our thirty-two villages into which the word of God was not carried; but the results have been greater for the heavenly Church than for the earthly Church. As there prevailed a contagious disease which spared neither age nor sex, all our care was to instruct the sick, to give them at the end of their life a passport for heaven. The greatest number of those whom this malady carried off, after baptism, were the little children.

The Indians have held several crowded assemblies, to consider means for compelling us to leave the country. Many captains have voted our death; but not one has dared to become the executioner there, and until now God has preserved us from their attacks. During the whole winter we were expecting every day to learn the death of one of our missionaries; and each day, while saying Mass, we received the communion, as if it were to serve as Last Supper. Everything ended in a few blows from a club, and in the vexation of seeing the crosses overturned which we had set up, and one of our cabins reduced to ashes. A single one of our Jesuits has seen his blood flow.

When we visit these poor people, if they do not arrive in time to close the door to our noses, they stop their ears and cover their faces, for fear of being bewitched.

The harvest promises much, not only on account of the number of our Indians, but because there are many other nations spread abroad in these immense solitudes. We already know the names of more than twenty, which are in the direction of the Northern sea, -- not at all considerable, however; we are led to hope that, beyond, we shall find more populous regions. To arrive there, it will be necessary to suffer still more than we have done to come here.

Our Indians captured, less than a month ago, one of their enemies; but, before being put to death, he was baptized by one of our Jesuits, who by chance had just arrived in the village. While the Indians were tormenting this captive, he sang that he was to go to heaven. I wish I could describe the tortures which they inflict upon the enemies who fall into their hands; but it is not possible to see in this world anything that better represents the way in which the demons torment the damned. As soon as they have taken a prisoner, they cut off his fingers; they tear his shoulders and his back with a knife; they bind him with tight bonds, and lead him, -- singing, and mocking at him with all the contempt imaginable. Having arrived at their village, they have him adopted by one of those who have lost their son in the war. This feigned parent is assigned with caressing the prisoner. You will see him come with a necklace in the form of hot iron, and say to him: "See here, my son; you love, I am sure, to be adorned, to appear beautiful." While therefore deriding him, he begins to torment him from the sole of the feet even to the crown of the head, with firebrands, with hot cinders, -- piercing his feet and his hands with reeds or with sharp irons.

When weakness no longer permits the captive to stand upright, they have him eat, and then they make him walk over the coals of several fires placed in a row. If he is exhausted, they take him by the hands and the feet, and carry him over these fires. Finally, they conduct him outside the village, and make him ascend a platform, so that all the Indians, seeing him in this lamentable plight, may satisfy their heart's rage. In the midst of all these tortures, they invite him to sing, and the sufferer sings so not to pass for a coward. Rarely do they complain of the cruelty which is practiced upon them. To crown all this infernal rage, they remove the scalp from these unfortunates. After their death, they cut their bodies to pieces, and give to the principal captains the heart, the head, etc. They make presents of the bodies to others, to season their soup, and to feed themselves with, as if it were the meat of some stag or other wild animal.

We now run the risk of being captured and treated in the same manner as the Hurons, with whom we live; for we pass, each year, -- either while going down to Quebec, or in coming up, -- by the places where the enemies of our Indians are on the watch to seize them in their journey; and there is hardly a year when several Hurons are not captured or killed as I have just described.

Joseph Marie Calvonott (chaumonot).

In the Country of the Hurons, in New France, the 26th of May, 1640.

LETTER OF FATHER JOSEPH MARIE CHAUMONOT TO THE REVEREND FATHER PHILIPPE NAPPI, SUPERIOR OF THE PROFESSED HOUSE AT ROME. FROM SAINT MARIE OF THE HURONS, AUGUST 3, 1640.

Reverend Father,

Last year, I accompanied one of Our Jesuits (Father de Brebeuf) to a country where the Gospel had not yet been announced. Starting from our Residence in the land of the Hurons, we made six days' route, continually in the woods, and without finding any place in which to rest ourselves or to take refuge. We had to carry on our backs whatever was necessary to us in the way of our food. The paths in these forests are difficult, being little worn, -- filled with brushwood and branches; cut up with swamps, brooks, and rivers, without other bridges than a few trees, broken off by age or by the wind. The winter is the best season for traveling, because the snow renders the paths more even. But it must be hardened, as we found it on our return, with the exception of two days: otherwise, one sinks in at every step. There is still another advantage in traveling in winter, -- namely, because the water-courses are frozen, and we were able to drag our baggage for sixty miles.

One finds no shelter from the winds, which are violent and cold. But thanks to Him whom the sea and the winds obey, we proceeded bravely and joyfully, despite the cold, the fatigue, and countless falls on the ice, of which my knees have retained a good reminder. But what is that in comparison with what Our Lord has suffered for me? I should esteem myself happy to break my arms and legs in his service. The little children in danger of death have reaped the first fruits of our apostolate. We have baptized a great number of them without the knowledge of their parents, who would certainly have opposed it. Many of these children have already departed for heaven. As for the adults, not only have they not been willing to listen to the good news, but they even prevented us from entering their villages, threatening to kill and eat us, as they do with their most cruel enemies. The reason of this great aversion arose from the slanders disseminated by some evil inhabitants of the country from which we came. Because of these slanders, they were convinced that we were sorcerers, fraudsters come to take possession of their country, after having made them perish by our spells, which were shut up in our ink-stands, in our books, etc., -- such that we dared not, without hiding ourselves, open a book or write anything. Not only were our books and our papers suspected of magic, but even our slightest gestures and motions. I once attempted to kneel down in a cabin, where we had withdrawn in order more collectedly to pray. Immediately the noise spread that Oronhiaguehre -- that is, heaven-bearer, as they call me -- had spent a part of the night in devising his spells, and that in consequence all were bound to put themselves on guard and distrust him.

But, in spite of the devil and of his imps, we have been able to spend our whole winter in making the round of the Indians' villages, -- threatening them with hell if they would not be converted, -- and nobody has dared to touch a single one of our hairs. Each one of them, however, was desiring our death and exciting the others to kill us; but none had the courage to do so, although that was the easiest thing in the world, -- we were only two weak men, without weapons, far from all human assistance.

Next autumn I hope to spend a second winter in the midst of these poor Indians; accordingly, I count on obtaining the help of your prayers.

I will add three quite remarkable occurrences which happened this year, -- especially since they concern poor infidels without morality.

The first is that of a young man who, traveling during intense cold with his sister, and seeing her almost succumb, stripped himself of a great skin which covered him, to clothe her with it; then, encouraging her to quicken her pace in order to avoid the death which was threatening her, he stayed behind, with his sister's thin garment. The young girl, leaving him, began to run even to her village, and during that time her poor brother was dying of cold, the victim of his fraternal heroism. About sixty others, during this winter, perished in the snows.

The second instance is that of a little child of eight or nine years who, playing on the ice, fell into the water. One of his brothers, of almost the same age, jumped into the river through the hole where his brother had disappeared, seized him, and swimming beneath the ice, had the skill to come up again with his burden, through another opening quite distant from the first, and therefore saved his life.

The third is an incident of war. Our Indians, having gone to fight, were surprised by the enemy in an ambush. Seeing the impossibility of defending themselves, the elders said to the younger men: "Since you can render services to our nation, take flight, while we shall check the enemy." This is what happened: those old Indians were taken, led away captive, cruelly tormented, burned, roasted, and devoured, -- according to the custom of this country, inhabited by cannibals.

Joseph Marie Chaumonot.

From the residence of Ste. Marie among the Hurons, the 3rd of August, 1640.

NEW FRANCE, IN 1640. THE VOYAGE OF THE FLEET, AND ITS ARRIVAL IN NEW FRANCE.

FATHER Rene Menard, having arrived at Quebec, told us some details of the Voyage of the Fleet this year:

"Our ships set out from their Anchorage on the twenty-sixth of March. Duchess d'Aiguilion having increased the endowment of her Hospital in New France, and desiring that two Nuns of the house of Mercy established at Dieppe should come and give some help to their good sisters, the Archbishop of Rouen granted them their dismissal. Mother de Saint Marie and sister de saint Nicholas, both professed nuns of this Monastery, were chosen. As Madame de la Pelletrie, foundress of a Seminary for little Indian girls and for the Ursuline Nuns, desired that there should be brought to them a Professed Nun of the Convent of Paris, and as the Archbishop did not judge it proper for one alone to leave her Convent, he sent two, namely, Mother Anne de Saint Claire and Mother Marguerite de Saint Athanase.

"Accordingly, there were four Nuns who embarked in the vessel called the 'Esperance,' under the command of Sir de Courpon, an honest Gentleman. It seemed as if the demons desired to engulf us from the time we left the roadstead. They raised up the whole Ocean, unchained the winds, and excited such horrible and continuous tempests that they almost made us perish in sight of Dieppe. We were in the midst of these dangers from the twenty-sixth of March until the twenty-eighth of April, beaten upon by rain and snow, as near to death as we were to the coasts of France. A ship of saint Valery, which was in the roadstead with us, detaching itself from its anchors, went to pieces before our eyes, everything that was within being carried away. The men were engulfed in the waves; and of twenty or so who were in this Ship, only three were saved. The death that reaped these bodies, seemed at every moment waiting to devour us. I heard many persons cursing the hour and the moment when the thought entered their minds to go upon the sea, and to entrust their lives to the mercy of a cable. These good sisters, who, at other times, would have trembled in a boat upon the Seine, mocked death and its approaches.

"This tempest having passed, another arose as furious as the first. As they saw it arising in the air, our sailors cast the second anchor, which saved our lives; for the cable of the first, which, until then, had secured us, broke in a moment, and our ship would have been hopelessly lost if the second anchor had not held us fast. If we avoided one danger, we fell into another. A wave dashed upon us with such fury that the most steadfast thought they were lost. Never have I confronted death so near. If this ship had advanced 50 feet, we would have been dashed to pieces, and the Ocean would have swallowed us in its waves. God preserved the three of our Fleet which were in the roadstead, without other loss than that of a cable, and of a boat that the tempest carried away from us. This fury, chaining us near the port, defended us against hostile frigates equipped for war, which were awaiting us at the passage, -- if we had weighed anchor one day before our departure, we would have fallen into the hands of the enemy. Duchess d'Aiguillon, having been advised of this ambush, arranged that Cardinal de Richelieu ordered the ships of Havre to convoy us. As we were about to go and join them, we encountered five Dunkirk privateer frigates. Immediately the weapons are grasped, the cannons are thrust out of the portholes, -- everyone is ready for the combat.

"Sir de Courpon, our Admiral, advances. But these Dunkirk frigates -- being embarrassed by two Dutch ships that had left us the previous night, and which had just been captured a little while before we appeared -- turned away from us, seeing in our faces that we were ready to dispute the victory with them. We reached Havre directly afterward, where we found fifty Ships at anchor which were awaiting us. The wind favoring us, Sir de Beaulieu, who commanded the Royal fleet, had us surrounded by forty ships. I did not think that I was upon the sea, seeing myself encompassed by so much wood. As we floated along in this security, the ships of the King discovered eight hostile frigates, which they chased, but those frigates escaped, owing to a favorable wind. The Royal escort, seeing us out of the channel and out of danger, left us. Thus the tempests, ready to destroy us in the port, protected us against our enemies. As soon as we were upon the high sea, the wind favored us during most of the time; we had some slight squalls, but they were of short duration."

Finally, after having enjoyed fair weather, the Admiral arrived at Tadoussac on the last of June, where the "saint Jacques" had entered two days before. Father Menard, embarking in a sailboat with our brother, Dominique Scot, left Father Joseph Du Perron and our brother Jacques Ratel with the Nuns, so he might promptly come to give us news of the fleet's arrival.

On Sunday morning, the "saint Jacques," commanded by Captain Ancelot, came and cast anchor opposite Quebec; our Governor went down to the wharf with our Reverend Father Superior, to receive our Fathers, and to escort these generous sisters to their houses. Upon leaving the ship, Madame de la Pelletrie, accompanied by her little Seminarists, embraced these good Nuns, whom she conducted first to the Chapel of the Ursulines, this being the nearest to the Quay, as our Church and house had been burned. They left the ship in better health than when they had entered it.

At present, we must strain every nerve to slow the Indians. When we first came into these countries, as we hoped for scarcely anything from the old, we employed all our forces in cultivating the children; but, as our Lord gave us the adults, we are turning the great outlay we made for the children to the aid of their fathers and mothers, -- helping them to cultivate the land, and to locate in a fixed and permanent home; we still retain with us, however, some little abandoned orphans. But our strongest efforts ought to tend towards rallying these poor lost sheep. Without this, there is no occupation in these countries for Nuns, especially for the Ursulines. It is not the same with us; for we penetrate into the settled nations, where the sisters have no access, -- not only on account of the remoteness of our French who have charge of them, but of the horrors of the roads, and the great hardships and dangers, which are beyond their sex. The girls and women cannot go up farther than the Island of Montreal, or the Lachine Rapids.

From the mouth of the Saint Lawrence River up to this Island, all the Indians are wanderers; so they must be brought to a settled life, if we wish to obtain their children. Those who took pleasure in assisting our seminary will be pleased by seeing that the outlays made for the children, being employed in erecting a little house, take and win for Jesus Christ the father, the mother, and the children. We have built four little lodgings this year, and in these there are four families.

THE GENERAL CONDITION OF THE FRENCH COLONY, AND THE CONVERSION OF THE INDIANS.

We live here in great contentment and satisfaction. The French are in good health; the air of the country agrees with them, as it is pure and healthy; the soil is beginning to yield them grain in abundance; wars, lawsuits, disputes, and quarrels do not infect them.

Last year, we made bonfires for the birth of the Prince; we asked God, by a solemn procession, to make this child like his father. Our joy and our affection were not kept within the bounds of one year; Sir Charles de Montmagny, our Governor, wishing to prolong it, has had a Tragi-comedy represented this year, in honor of this newborn Prince. I would not have believed that so handsome apparel and so good actors could be found in Quebec. Sir Martial Piraube, who had charge of this performance, and who represented the chief person, succeeded excellently.

THE INDIANS REASSEMBLE AT SAINT JOSEPH AFTER THE EPIDEMIC, ELECT SEVERAL CAPTAINS, AND SHOW THEIR FERVOR FOR THE FAITH.

I HAVE sometimes seen frightened pigeons attacked by a hawk. These poor birds would fly around their birdhouse, without entering it; then, their enemy happening to disappear, they would suddenly dart into their little home. This is precisely the image of the pitiable condition in which our Indians were last year. The malady pursued them with flapping wings; they hovered around the house of St. Joseph, passed and repassed in their little gondolas and canoes, and, still seeing the shadow of the Vulture that pursued them, they again took flight; but finally, as this scourge began to abate, they came and took refuge in the dwelling they have chosen.

At the time they were reassembling, the Reverend Father Vimont, our Superior, going up to Three Rivers, encountered some of them on the way, of whom he wrote me in these terms:

"We reached Sir de la Poterie's house yesterday about noon; we shall not be able to leave until today at about the same hour, because our sailors have let our sailboat run aground too far up. I could not find a canoe, to go on ahead of it, for there are only two here, -- one of which goes to St. Joseph, the other must serve about thirty Indians whom I encountered here last evening. I had them pray, and taught them as well as I could. They made me sing the Irinitik (a Song composed in their language). God knows how I acquitted myself of this; however, I proceeded to the end with the Litanies. I explained to them how you and I had procured for them the Gribane, to take their baggage to St. Joseph, and that the Governor was granting them this favor, to persuade them to clear the land. They declared themselves favorably inclined to this. After I had spoken, they told me that they were relatives of the Captain of the Kichesipirini Algonquins; but that they did not like him, because they knew that he showed himself interested in farming and in instruction, only in appearance. Upon taking leave of them, I assured them that I would hurry my journey, to come and take them on my return, and make myself their Captain as far as St. Joseph.

These good people, and many others from various places, finally gathered at St. Joseph. The people being assembled, three Christians addressed them. The first was Estienne Pigarouik, formerly a famous sorcerer among them. He somewhat irritated the minds of some of the pagans by his fervor; for he said that they must banish the devil from their new residence, and the unbelievers with them, especially those who wished to have two wives; and that it was necessary either to believe or to separate, and that those who had courage ought to express their opinions upon this subject.

After this one, Noel Negabamat spoke, but more moderately.

Jean Baptiste Etinechkavat, who is a Captain by descent, spoke last. "You know," (said he) "that I am not a great talker, -- that my tongue clings to my palate, and that it is hard to open my lips. I am already old, I am beginning to think more than to speak. I considered the Faith well before embracing it; I did not yield to the first invitation; but I am now so satisfied that, the more I consider it, the more I love it; and consequently, if you have any faith in me, do not fear to embrace it. I believe that the only means of restoring your nation, which is going to destruction, is for you all to assemble and to believe in God, -- not hypocritically, but from the depths of your hearts; and as he is good, and as he can do all, he will restore and preserve us." That was what our Christians said in this first assembly, which took place at night; we were not present there, nor were we at the following ones. Our Neophytes conducted this whole affair.

One Pagan alone -- an arrogant man, but who had formerly been more so -- began to speak after these three speeches. "I see clearly," said he, "that they wish to drive us away. True, they do not attack me so directly as they do such a one, who is my relative. But it must be known that one cannot strike him without hurting me. They cry out that he loves two women; have we not had the privilege for a long time to take as many of them as we wish? We listen every day to the Fathers, -- we do not disapprove what they say; but we do not think that we can remember what they teach, or observe what they recommend. I did feel great distaste for what they preach, -- I used to make sport of them, I have quarreled with and threatened them; I had nothing but a mouth, but now I am beginning to have ears. If I were related to the French as you are, who have received their belief, I would not be willing, however, to offend my countrymen." The conclusion was that they would think the matter over.

Our Christians did not give up their point. They came to ask us to negotiate secretly with the Governor, so he might prompt them to appoint some Captains to lead them in their little affairs, -- judging rightly that, the few Captains being gained over, all the rest would readily follow. The Governor, who does not let slip any occasion for extending the Faith, had the principal ones called together; and -- having praised them, some for having received baptism, others for preparing themselves to receive it; having urged them to hold fast to the resolution they have taken, and which they have already put into practice, to cultivate the land and to settle down; and having recommended to the Christians constancy in their marriages -- he gave them to understand that it would be well if they should elect some chiefs to govern them; and that, if the women and the youth lived independently, this was not the way to preserve themselves. They all promised to assemble at St. Joseph to consider this matter.

Three days afterward they came to our house to see us, and asked us how they should proceed in this affair. Having explained to them how it could be done through secret votes, they immediately concluded that they must enter, one after the other, the chamber of one of us, to name to the Father who should be there three of the principal men whom they might consider best qualified to command. This was done without delay; the Father wrote their votes secretly, then he declared to them aloud how many ballots each of them had, without naming those who had given them. The Christians prevailed over the Pagans. Jean Baptiste Etinechkavat did not compete in the election, for, being a Captain by descent, everyone gave him the first rank. One Pagan alone approached the number of votes that the Christians had.

The election over, they looked at one another in great astonishment, never having proceeded in this manner. No one broke the silence. Finally a Christian, crippled in one leg, who was present with the others, exclaimed, "What are we thinking about? Why does no one speak? This is your own work. It is we who have just concluded that such and such persons should command; nothing more remains but to obey." Then, turning toward us, "I see plainly that each one is looking at his companion to see who will begin to speak. My Fathers," he said to us, "permit us to withdraw to some place outside of your house, so we may consult among ourselves upon what we have just done, and that each one may say freely what he thinks of it." They were immediately dismissed, and, having assembled apart in one of their cabins, this lame man spoke with so great fervor of the grandeurs of the Faith that he astonished them all.

They parleyed among themselves, and concluded: First, that this poor cripple should be Captain of prayers; that he should be listened to; that he should learn from us what he could of the truths of our belief, to explain these to them; and that each one should dispose himself to receive it.

Secondly, they appointed two of them, who should keep the young men to their duty; one was a Christian, and the other still a Pagan.

In the third place, they concluded that the three who had received the most votes should decide their affairs, with Jean Baptiste, already a Captain, and that these new Magistrates should be in charge only one year; that, when their term expired, they should Proceed to a new election.

In the fourth place, they confirmed the resolution they had made to cultivate the land.

This done, they went to see the Governor to give him an account of their proceedings, and to ask him to authorize those whom they had elected. He promised that he would support these; and as he has obedience rendered to every head of a family in his own house, that he would lend a helping hand if they required it of him, to the end that their countrymen should obey what they have mutually concluded. When all was resolved upon, the young men, passing with muskets upon their shoulders around the cabin where the Captains had been elected, fired a neat salute in their honor.

As all this took place only among the men, they decided to call together the women, to urge them to be instructed and to receive baptism. Accordingly, they were brought together, and the young people also. The best of it was that they preached to them so well that the following day some of these poor women, encountering Father de Quen, said to him, "Where is such a Father? we have come to ask him to baptize us. Yesterday the men summoned us to a Council, the first time that women have ever entered one; but they treated us so rudely that we were astonished. 'It is you women,' they said to us, 'who are the cause of all our misfortunes, -- it is you who keep the demons among us. You do not urge to be baptized; you must not be satisfied to ask this favor only once from the Fathers, you must implore them. You are lazy about going to prayers; when you pass before the cross, you never salute it; you wish to be independent. Know that you will obey your husbands; and you young people, you will obey your parents and our Captains; and if any fail to do so, we have concluded to give them nothing to eat.'"

I believe that they will not all at once enter into this great submissiveness that they promise themselves; but they will embrace it little by little. A young woman having fled, shortly after these elections, into the woods, not wishing to obey her husband, the Captains had her searched for, and came to ask us, if, having found her, it would not be well to chain her by one foot; and if it would be enough to make her pass four days and four nights without eating, as penance for her fault.

There occurred at the same time an edifying incident. Two blind women having heard that they must honor the cross which was between their cabins and the Chapel, felt for it with their staffs when they came to Mass; and as it is planted within a palisade of stakes, they passed their staffs over these stakes, wondering if, this cross being higher, they could touch it. Some of our Frenchmen, seeing them so earnestly searching, stopped to see what they intended to do. After having carefully followed the palisade, they finally encountered the cross, and both made a deep reverence to it. This made our Frenchmen laugh, yet they were uplifted at the simplicity of these good people.

Some canoes of Atikamekw (these are tribes that live ordinarily above the river of Three Rivers) having come down towards our French, the Algonquins invited them to come and live with them, to obtain a knowledge of God, -- telling them a thousand good things about the help that we render them according to our limited power. These new guests answered nothing to this; but, going to see Father Buteux, they told him that they had a great desire to be instructed and to cultivate the land, -- but not with the Algonquins, because they were of different natures and language. The Father asked them if they would not like to choose a place, distant about one day's journey, on the river Metaberoutin, which we call Three Rivers, and that there two Fathers of our Jesuits would go to instruct them. "Ah," they replied, "that is just what we would like."

"Our Algonquins have gone to trade in the vicinity of a nation called the Atikamekw. The Atikamekw trade with others who come from the North, and who are called Papinachois Innu. They have a rendezvous where they assemble in August. It is so cold in the country of the Papinachois Innu that the trees do not attain the proper size to furnish them bark enough for making their canoes, which they buy from other tribes. I hope the Faith will be carried into these nations, so we may be able to attract and locate them down here eventually." These are the words of the Father.

The sum of a hundred gold coins is sufficient to hold and convert an entire family, by means of a little house that is built for it, partly in the French way, partly in the fashion of the Indians. If only the superfluity of buildings in France were converted into these little edifices; and that fervor to render these poor peoples permanently settled would enter the hearts of the mighty ones of the earth. He who civilizes one family converts all its descendants, and makes a miniature Christian people.

THE INDIANS BAPTIZED, AND THE GOOD DEEDS IN THIS NEW CHURCH.

We have been long in doubt whether we should baptize young people of marriageable age before they have made their choice. Experience has shown us that Baptism operates powerfully in a heart. The law which forbids the Christian to ally himself with an unbeliever is so well received among these simple people that, if a young Pagan is seeking a Christian girl, he will usually ask us to be instructed and to receive Baptism before speaking to the girl; for he knows that she will scorn him as an unbeliever, or, if she be well inclined toward him, she will not hesitate to tell him that she cannot marry him without the consent of the Father who may have baptized or instructed her.

We are living now in profound peace; the Faith is respected even by the Pagans, and the new Christians are fervent. True, God has tried these poor people by great calamities; and as night returns after day, and Winter after Summer, I am expecting with certainty that he will raise up some storm after this calm. I am almost persuaded that these tempests will arise from the marriages made in the Christian way. The Indians have been for many ages in possession of a complete brutish liberty, changing wives when they pleased, -- taking only one or several, according to their inclinations. Now that they have become Christians, they must bend their heads under the yoke of single marriage, which perhaps will seem to them hard.

One of these new bridegrooms was Vincent Xavier, a young man about twenty-two years old. Finding himself deprived of his father and stepmother, who were carried off in the general epidemic, he came to tell us that he needed the help of a woman to make his snowshoes and clothes, -- in brief, to take care of his household.

"I am in love with a young girl," said he; "I ask you to call my relatives together, and to consider whether she is suitable for me. If you decide that it is for my good, I will marry her; if not, I will follow your advice." His relatives and friends decided that this choice would be a suitable one for him. As Advent was drawing near, we told him that he could properly marry at this holy season, but that the most prudent Christians did not do it. "Yes," said he, "but I am in a hurry to go hunting. If you put me off for forty days, who will make my snowshoes?"

"Ask your promised bride to do it," we said to him.

He began to laugh, and replied, "I shall make myself a laughingstock, for it is not the custom in our country to employ girls before their marriage."

The Indians, who come about our settlements, ask us about all their little affairs, as children would to their fathers. They come sometimes to ask if they shall go hunting in such a place, if they shall take medicine, if they shall have a sweat, if they shall dance, if they shall marry. The young men come to see us in private and ask us to find them wives, or to speak for them to those whom they desire to marry; some widows, and even some young girls, ask us secretly to find them husbands, confiding in us more than in those of their own nation, and tell us emphatically that we are to act as if on our own account, without making it appear that they had spoken to us.

A young Indian, not yet baptized, had us asked by some of his Christian relatives if we would approve of his marrying a girl whom he named. As neither the one nor the other was a Christian, we replied that we would not take part in such connections, and that we did not meddle with marriages, except to see that they live in a Christian manner when they have been baptized. This young man did not press the matter farther. Having met him some days later, I asked him if he were not married.

"I have no inclination," he replied, "to marry without your consent. You are my father; it is for you not only to tell me whether you approve my marrying, but also to appoint the day when I shall do so."

"Yes," I said to him, "but you are not a Christian."

"I am not one yet," he replied, "but I am desirous of becoming one, and the girl whom I am seeking has the same desire; this is why I ask you to baptize us both before our marriage. We will wait as long as you please, if we are not yet sufficiently instructed."

We baptized these two young people, well instructed, and then married them with the rites of the Church. We have arranged several other marriages. All these pairs are resolved not to abandon each other until death, -- except one or two, who are beginning to cause us some trouble.

CONTINUATION OF THE SAME SUBJECT.

A young man between twenty-five and thirty years old, while pursuing his way, lay down to sleep in a cabin of Indians. In the night, a woman approached him. He, perceiving her purpose, anticipated temptation by saying to her, "Go away, for I am a Christian; those who pray do not commit such sins."

The young Indians who are seeking a wife go to visit their mistresses at night. We forcibly denounce this most harmful custom; for although all is done with great decency, yet the risk of offending God is too great.

When any young Indians arrive from outside, our Christians immediately inform us of it, so we may see that all keep within the bounds of duty. They scold the young men who take too much liberty. There happened a remarkable thing in regard to this. A young man not yet baptized was wooing a Christian girl, and went to see her at night. At first this girl did not rebuff him, but listened to his conversation, which so scandalized the Christians that we were immediately informed of it. We summoned her and reprimanded her sharply, reproaching her with behaving like a libertine who did not believe in God, and telling her that even the caresses of this young man at such a time were sinful. This poor girl, surprised, replied to the Father who chided her, "My Father, I have listened to this young man, but he did not caress me. I am not French; I have seen Frenchmen trifling with girls, caressing and kissing them, but this is not our custom, -- those who seek us only talk to us, and then go away. Believe me," said she, "when this young man was speaking to me, I remembered that I was a Christian, and that I was unwilling to offend God. I merely told him that he should address himself to you in this matter."

"The report is, however," said the Father, "that you did not behave properly."

"Those who pray to God," she replied, "will not say that. For I have done nothing wrong, beyond listening to him, conducting myself according to our ancient customs."

Then, a certain person, for the sake of a joke and also to assure himself of the genuineness of the girl's simplicity, said to her, "I shall know whether this young man has deceived you, for I will have you take a potion that will make you vomit immediately if he has touched you."

"Shall I not vomit," said she, "unless he has touched me?"

"Not at all."

"Well, give it to me now and you will see my innocence."

His companion gave her a spoonful of black syrup, which she took with a cheerful face, and swallowed confidently. "If I do not vomit," she exclaimed, "except in case I have done wrong, I fear nothing." A few weeks afterward, when other young men came to visit her and her companions at night, they immediately told them that they should go away, -- that they were Christians, and that, if the men wished to marry any of them, they should address themselves on that subject to the Fathers who had baptized the girls. But, as these young men did not go away, the girls took firebrands and threatened to thrust them in their faces if they did not leave.

One day, five old women were baptized together, the most aged one said to her people, "It seems to me that our Ancestors believed something of what the Fathers teach; for I remember that when I was quite young, my father, who was old, told us that he who has made all, and who provides our food, was displeased when anyone did wrong, and that he hated the wicked and punished them after their death."

On the sixteenth of January, having learned that a poor old woman, who had left the residence of St. Joseph to go to Three Rivers, was lying ill by the wayside, with two children who were incapable of helping her, we sent two Indians to bring her to the Hospital. As they had no sleds, they brought the two children, and left the sick woman all alone in the depths of the woods. We chided these two messengers severely, and told them that they must return and get this poor creature. One of them who was not yet a Christian, hearing us say "return," stole away as quickly as possible. The one who was baptized retraced his steps, with one of our Fathers and our brother Jean Ligeois. When they reached the place where the sick woman was, they found her in a hole made in the snow, lying upon a few branches of pine, with no shelter but Heaven, and with no bark to protect herself from the wind. They had to sleep in this same inn. God gave a new shelter to these new guests; it snowed so hard all night that they were covered in snow on all sides. These hardships, which seem great in France, are considered here as light, -- in fact, they are easily borne. When morning came, the sick woman confessed; they bound her to a little sled, and our brother Ligeois, and this good young Indian hauled and pushed her as well as they could. But, as the weather was severe, and as she had suffered a great deal, she died before reaching the Hospital.

It would be a novel thing in France if one of the audience, assembled to hear a sermon, were to stop the preacher in the middle, -- either to talk with him, or to ask him for the explanation of some point of his doctrine. This happens here every day without any impropriety. One of us preaching on confession, and declaring the importance of purifying one's heart in this Sacrament, a Captain exclaimed aloud, "My Father, they do nothing but gamble in our cabins. Listen, young men, do you understand what the Father is telling us? You are not doing right; mend your ways! You gamble too much; come and confess, and be careful not to hide any of your sins." This parenthetical speech finished, the Preacher continued his sermon.

When one says something which they approve, they show it sometimes in the midst of the preaching. Ho-ho, they say, or mi hi, "that is good;" or, again, mi ke tiang, "we will do that." There are some who will say to the Preacher, "My Father, do not go so fast; speak more slowly." If the Father does not correctly use some word of their language, they will suggest to him the right word that he should use, and no one finds this strange.

I have previously remarked that the Indians, to adorn themselves, redden or blacken their faces, or paint them in some other color. As one of us criticized this mischievous custom on a certain day, one of his listeners, indignant at those who retained it, exclaimed, "My Father, it is only the deformed, and the uncouth who paint themselves. The rest of us, who are naturally handsome, have given up this old custom."

CONTINUATION OF THE SAME SUBJECT.

A YOUNG Christian, getting into a passion, beat his wife, who had insolently provoked him. He had not yet recovered from his rage, when he slipped into our chapel to cry to God for mercy; encountering Father de Quen there, he said to him, "I am sad, I have just offended God, pray to him for me." As that had happened in the presence of several persons, a great clamor arose in the cabins, -- many Christians and Pagans coming together to us, to complain of this scandal. The unbelievers reproached us with not having baptized them, when they behaved better than many who were baptized. "They are taught what is right," said these, "and they do not do it. They pray to God, and yet they get angry. They are baptized, and yet they do not hesitate to beat one another." When we had told them that we would admonish those persons concerning their duty, they went and brought them without delay. They were properly reprimanded, especially the woman, who was more guilty than her husband. The unbelievers cannot tolerate the faults of the Christians; they believe that, having embraced a Law so holy, the Christians ought to be exempt from all frailties.

When the Christian Indians learned that Madame de la Pelterie, foundress of the Ursulines, wished to do them the honor of visiting them at the Christmas midnight Mass, they went to bring her, -- men, women, and girls, -- with an enthusiasm that surprised us. When sometimes she comes by water to visit them, these good people fire a little musket salute for her when she disembarks, -- accompanying her as far as their houses or cabins, and showing her great affection. She always brings with her some little Indian seminary girls, prettily dressed, which pleases the Indians. As these children hear Mass every day with the Nuns, and as they hear them sing every day during the elevation of the blessed Sacrament, they have remembered one of their hymns so well that they sang it finely at St. Joseph, in the presence of their Christian relatives, at the midnight Mass.

A young woman, finding herself urged to marry a man whom she did not love, became so enraged, without showing any outward indications of it, that she tried to hang herself. People ran to her at once; they found her half dead; they cut the noose, and carried her, entirely unconscious, to her cabin. A Christian came immediately and informed us of this; we ran there. She came to herself, and gave us all the satisfaction that could have been expected from a soul which was coming forth from the gates of hell. We asked her if she was not afraid of being damned. "I was not thinking of that," said she, "but only of freeing myself from the annoyance of that man."

The snow being rather deep, our Indians went into the woods to provide themselves with Elk meat; as they were to be gone a long time, we gave the Christians a calendar, so they could know the Sundays, so that they could make their prayers somewhat longer on those days. As they can neither read nor write, we had distinguished the days and the Months and the Feasts by different marks. Giving them this paper to see if they could use it, we were astonished upon their return; for when they came to see us, they brought us their paper, and said, "See if we have counted wrongly; there is the day where we think we are," they continued. They were not mistaken by a single day. "There," they added, "are the Sundays; we have kept them all except that one," which they indicated; "we have marked it purposely to show it to you, for we said that we must tell you about it. The thaw obliged us to work that day; we were sorry about it, but we were in danger of losing our provisions. On the Feast days, we assembled and prayed to God in one cabin, and sang what we knew. On the other days, each prayed to God by himself."

Here is part of a letter from Father de Quen, touching these good Neophytes.

"They are all in an incredible state of satisfaction at having embraced the Faith. 'We punish the disobedient,' said they. A young girl who would not go to the nets, where her father sent her, was two days without food as a punishment for her disobedience. Two boys, who came late to prayers in the morning, were punished by having a handful of hot cinders thrown upon their heads, with threats of greater chastisement in case the offense were repeated.

"The Indian who told this next story made me laugh. 'Being at prayers with the others,' said he, 'having my face turned towards the image of our Lord, I had a great desire to see if these two young men, whom I had just awakened, had come to prayers; but remembering that you recommended modesty and attention when one is speaking to God, I did not dare move. Finally, wishing to find out if everyone was doing his duty, I yielded. I turned my head, but ever so little, and discreetly. I believe,' he added, 'that there was no harm in that.' This candor made me laugh."

Here is an act which has touched me. A young Christian, about twenty-two years old, not having been able to find a wife at St. Joseph, went to trade with another nation in the interior, from where he brought back a young girl, to the scandal of the new Christians, who do not allow a baptized man to marry a Pagan. He lived with her as if married, in the fashion of the Indians. As soon as he appeared at Three Rivers, they made him leave her; and after having given her up, he returned to St. Joseph, humiliated. We assembled the principal Christians, to ascertain what action would be taken in this matter.

They summarily decided that he should be driven away and forbidden ever to live again with the Christians, for having been guilty of so bad an action. We replied that this severity would be proper in case he intended to persevere in his evil course; but that he should be received and pardoned if he acknowledged his offense. It was immediately decreed that he should publicly ask God for mercy upon his sin. Therefore, one Sunday morning, most of the Christians having assembled in the Church to hear Mass, this poor young man, remaining near the open door, and speaking loudly, said to the Father who was preparing to officiate, "My Father, will you permit me to enter the Church?" The Father reproached him, saying that he had caused a great scandal, and that, if he would ask God's pardon for it, he might enter. He came in, knelt down before the Altar, and of his own choice, speaking in a loud voice, cried, "My God, have mercy upon me; I have offended you, I ask you for pardon; have pity upon me; I have committed a great sin." This said, he prostrated himself, and kissed the ground; and a Christian Captain exclaimed, "Let us pray for him, so God may show him mercy." All immediately fell upon their knees, praying aloud to our Lord to have compassion on this poor penitent. This act pierced me to the heart.

Thus the incident passed over, but now see what caused me profound astonishment; when this good Neophyte had atoned for this offense, I asked how he had come to yield to so great a sin. I carefully examined his behavior; I found him so little guilty that I shuddered with a holy horror. He had taken this young girl, having already given his word to another; he lived with her as if they were married, and that was the offense. But his respect for his baptism had prevented him from touching her, although he was requested to do so, -- desiring that she should become a Christian before showing her the evidences of his affection.

CONTINUATION OF THE ACTIONS OF OUR NEW CHRISTIANS.

An Indian of the Kichesipirini Algonquins, who went down to St. Joseph to find a wife for his son, asked for the daughter of the deceased Francois Xavier Nenaskoumat. Noel Negabamat, to whom this girl had been carefully entrusted, spoke in these terms to the father of the young man: "We are no longer what we once were, -- we have given up our old customs, to accept better ones. So we cannot give this girl, who believes in God and is baptized, except to a person of the same belief." The Indian answered nothing to this speech; he changed the subject, and conversed for the time about some other matter. But, the next morning, he returned with a large wampum collar, which he presented to Noel Negabamat, saying to him, "This will speak for me, and will assure you that I wish to believe in God, and that I wish to embrace the customs that you so cherish. Therefore, do not raise any difficulties about granting this girl to my son; for he will be baptized, and I also."

Noel Negabamat, surprised at this act, replied, "We will conclude nothing about this marriage without the advice of our Father. He has gone on a journey to Quebec; we expect him this evening. As soon as he returns, I will carry him this collar, which will make him understand your intentions." He did so; and the Father had scarcely entered his chamber before Noel presented him this wampum, and explained the whole matter to him. I know that this young Indian asked the girl exceedingly, to find out if she would accept him; but, although she felt some affection for him, she would still give him no other answer than that he must not ask her in this matter, but to the Father who had instructed her, and to her relatives.

A young Christian man who was lame in one leg told us one day that, having gone to war, he saw himself pursued by three stout Iroquois. As he then had good legs, he considerably outran them. At last, perceiving that they were not all three together, he turned around, attacked the first one and stopped him by an arrow shot. This done, he pretended to flee, and the others pursued him; he turned again, and pierced the nearest one through; then, having thrown down his bow and quiver, he ran after the third, javelin in hand; but as he was afraid of encountering others, he withdrew, rejoiced at having escaped such danger.

The Father who had charge of him, seeing him smoking, asked him why he smoked. He stopped short, and did not answer. "If God asked you," pursued the Father, "'why did you take tobacco?' what would you say?"

"I would be at a loss; for I have never taken it except for the pleasure I felt from it. But why," he added, "have you not informed me sooner of this disorderly action? I will never again take it." In fact, he dispensed with it for a long time, until someone told him that it would be proper for him to take a little of it for his health. Those who know what a mania the Indians and some Frenchmen have for smoking tobacco, will admire this abstinence in a Canadian. Intemperate drinkers are not as fond of wine as the Indians are of tobacco.

As he made a trip to Three Rivers this Spring, Father Buteux wrote these words about him to Father Claude Pijart: "Pierre Trigatin affords great education up here; he even wishes to run, lame as he is. A few days ago, a Frenchman came to give us the alarm about the Iroquois. Pierre immediately presented himself to go and discover the enemy; and however much I might argue with him, he desired to embark in a canoe with four persons, which he guided at first with one of the staffs which served him in walking, and then with a paddle. They went to lake St. Paul, where a noise had been heard. As night drew on, they perceived something like a canoe, -- and, supposing that it was the enemy, Pierre had the Indians and a Frenchman who was with them disembark, and made them kneel and pray. Their prayer finished, they reembarked and proceeded to attack this canoe; but, upon approaching it, they saw that it was a tree floating upon the water. If he did not fight, it was not for lack of courage, but of opportunity."

THE GOOD DISPOSITION OF SOME INDIANS NOT YET BAPTIZED.

A rude and arrogant fellow said to me, "I have a hundred times made sport of the speeches of Father de Quen; I have opposed Father Buteux, trying to prevent him from instructing us; as for you, I could not endure you, -- I took pleasure in quarreling with you, and, when I had done so, I went through the cabins and spoke of it as a great feat. But now your words seem good to me; they are going down little by little into my heart; I believe my ears will get accustomed to hear them."

Here are some observations of Father Buteux, sent from the Three Rivers:

"One of us, going into the cabins at a little distance from our settlement to offer prayers, met an old man who was going away to make sleds. -- He asked the Father where he was going. 'I am going to get your people to pray,' replied the Father. 'I cannot be present,' said this good Indian, 'but let us pray here.' Then he knelt down upon the snow, in the severe cold; the Father had him pray, and, this done, the good man went off to his work, happy.

"Three days ago a woman, not yet baptized, remained at the door of the Church during Mass. As her little son was a Christian, and as none but Christians are allowed to hear Mass, she set this little child, -- standing upright, bound to his cradle, -- at the entrance to the Chapel, waiting outside until Mass was over, to take him; showing by this act the value she attached to her son's good fortune, which would be granted to her also were it not for the fear that she will marry a Pagan, her husband having left her young."

SOME OBSERVATIONS TAKEN FROM THE MEMOIRS OF FATHER BUTEUX

"A band of Algonquins, dragging with them many poor widows and orphans, came to throw themselves into the arms of our charity. When I saw the extreme poverty of these poor Indians, both as to their food and their clothes, I never had a greater desire to be rich. The first cabin I entered was that of two poor widows, well advanced in age, who had gathered together about ten or twelve children, and for their sole provision had not the value of a bag of Indian corn. It was then I regretted the supplies that were sent us, which had been lost in the barque that was coming to see us.

A good widow was carried off in her childhood, with some other prisoners, by the Iroquois, coming to make war against her country. She was reared among them, and afterward reputed as a woman of their nation. Once, after she had grown up, the Algonquins went to war together with the late Sir de Champlain, and throwing themselves upon an Iroquois village where this woman was, massacred all those whom they encountered. This poor creature, finding herself in the conflict, tried to make the Algonquins understand that she was of their nation; but she had forgotten her own language, except this one word, which she reiterated with all her might, nir, nir, nir, 'me, me, me.' This word saved her life. An Algonquin drawing her aside, she made him understand, as well as she could, that she had been captured in her youth by the enemy. She was sent back to her own country.

An Indian who had been baptized while in danger of death was restored to health. He had a good enough disposition, but love for a woman ruined him. He loved her passionately; and not having the time to wait until she was instructed and baptized, he married her in the Indian fashion, without waiting for the benediction of the Church. We threatened him with the punishments of God, which followed closely upon him. This unhappy man, having gone to hunt the beaver with his numerous family, saw his wife, and her children by a previous marriage, die without baptism. Her parents, seized by the same malady, were soon carried away.

Finally, he fell sick, together with one of his sons, about twenty years of age, and one of his daughters, a Christian, twelve years old. His sister -- who had been a widow for some years, and who had a son who was a tall young man and an excellent hunter -- took care of all these patients in the woods. But when she saw her son attacked by this contagion, she took a strange course to save his life. Desiring to bring him to the dwellings of our French to find some remedy for his disease, and not being able to take on board her brother, she beat her brother to death with heavy blows from a club, in the presence of his two children, her nephew and her niece, who did not dare stir in case this Fury would do as much to them. This done, she embarked her sick son, and deserted her nephew and niece who were recovering from the illness, -- calling to them to take a canoe that she showed them, if they wished to save themselves.

These poor children, -- not being able to launch this canoe, or to guide it in their weakness, -- leaving their father who had just been beaten to death, followed their aunt a whole day along the edge of the water, without eating. This Fury looked at them pitilessly. At last, being weary of paddling, she came ashore to rest. Her nephew asked her to have pity upon him and his poor sister. This cruel woman replied, "If you wish me to save your life, kill your sister, for I cannot embark you both. Promise me that you will never speak of what I have done to your father." O God, what will this poor young man do? To kill his sister is cruel; to remain with his sister is to choose death, without being able to give her life. These two poor children look at each other, speaking with their eyes, for their hearts have not enough strength to give motion to their tongues. Finally, this tigress urged the poor young man to be the executioner of his own sister.

He takes a cord, passes it around his sister's neck, throws this poor innocent to the ground, puts one foot upon the end of this noose, and draws the other as tightly as he can with both hands, -- sacrificing to the cruelty of this she-wolf this poor innocent victim. When this wretched brother had returned, I asked him if his sister had not asked him to spare her life. "No," he replied, "she did not speak to me, nor flee from me; she looked at me pitifully, and let me exercise a cruelty which was to save my life." This murder committed, the young man embarked with this Fury, but God struck her with the contagion from which she was fleeing; and before reaching the place where she wished to bring her son, she died like a beast. Finally, her son was brought to the hospital, where he died in an intolerable stench, but with strong indications of salvation.

THE HOPE WE HAVE FOR THE CONVERSION OF MANY INDIANS.

Let us enumerate some of the nations partly adjacent to the banks of the great river, and then I will try to express my thoughts.

At the entrance to the great gulf of Saint Lawrence, on the Northern shore, we find the Eskimo tribes, -- barbarous, and hostile to the Europeans; following the same Northern shore upwards we find the Chisedec Innu and Betsiamite Innu peoples; these are insignificant nations, of whom we know little, who have dealings with other inland tribes. Then we find the Tadoussac Innu, who have communication with the Porcupine Innus, and through them with other Indians farther inland. Continuing up the river we reach Quebec, and then Three Rivers. The Indians who frequent these two settlements go to trade with the Atikamekw, and these with three or four other small nations which are North of their country.

When we reach the first rapid found in the great Saint Lawrence River, which we call Lachine Rapids, we come to another stream called the "Riviere des Prairies." This river is therefore named because when a certain Frenchman named des Prairies, assigned with piloting a barque to the Lachine Rapids, came to this junction or meeting of these two rivers, instead of coasting along the Southern shore, where the Lachine Rapids is, he turned to the North, towards the other river which had no French name, and which, since that time, has been called the "Riviere des Prairies." Going up this river, we find the Weskarini, which we call the "Petite nation" of the Algonquins. Going still farther up the river we find the Kichesipirini Algonquins, the Indians of the Island, who have adjacent to them, in the territory to the North, the Kotakoutouemi. To the South of the Island are the Kinounchepirini, the Mataouchkarini, the Ountchatarounounga, the Sagahiganirini, the Sagnitaouigama, and then the Hurons, who are at the entrance to the freshwater sea. These last six nations are between the Saint Lawrence River and the River des Prairies.

Leaving the Riviere des Prairies when it turns directly to the North, so we can go to the Southwest, we come to Lake Nipissing, where the Nipissings are found. These have upon their North the Timiscimi, the Outimagami, the Ouachegami, the Mitchitamou, the Outurbi, the Cree, who live on the shores of Hudson Bay where the Nipissings go to trade.

Let us return now to the freshwater sea (Lake Huron). This sea is only a large Lake which, becoming narrower in the West, or the West Northwest, forms another smaller Lake, which then begins to enlarge into another great Lake or second freshwater sea. Such are the nations that border these great Lakes or seas of the North.

At the entrance to the first of these Lakes we find the Hurons. Leaving them, to sail farther up in the lake, we find on the North the Ouasouarini; farther up are the Ojibwes, and still farther up, at the mouth of the river which comes from Lake Nipissing, are the Atchiligouan.

Beyond, upon the same shores of this freshwater sea (Lake Huron), are the Amikwas, or the nation of the Beaver. To the South of these is an Island in this freshwater sea about 75 miles long, inhabited by the Ottawas; these are people who have come from the nation of the raised hair. After the Amikwas, upon the same shores of the great lake, are the Mississaugas, whom we pass while proceeding to the Ojibwes -- that is, to the nation of the people of Sault Ste. Marie, for there is a Rapid that rushes at this point into the freshwater sea. Beyond this rapid we find the little lake, upon the shores of which, to the North, are the Noquet Menominee. To the North of these are the Makoucoue, people who navigate little, living upon the fruits of the earth.

Passing this smaller lake, we enter the second freshwater sea (Lake Michigan), upon the shores of which are the Menominees; and still farther, upon the same banks, dwell the Winnebago, a settled people, who are numerous; some of the French call them the "Nation of Stinkards," because the Algonquin word "ouinipeg" means "bad-smelling water," and they apply this name to the water of the salt sea, -- so that these peoples are called Ouinipigou (Winnebago) because they come from the shores of a sea about which we have no knowledge; and so they should not be called the nation of Stinkards, but the nation of the sea.

In the neighborhood of this nation are the Sioux, the Assiniboine Sioux, the Illinois, the Mascouten, and the Potawatomi. These are the names of a part of the nations which are beyond the shores of the great Saint Lawrence River and of the great lakes of the Hurons on the North. I will now visit the Southern shores. Sir Nicolet, interpreter of the Algonquin and Huron languages for the Company of New France, has given me the names of these nations, which he himself has visited, mostly in their own country. All these peoples understand Algonquin, except the Hurons, who have a language of their own, as also have the Winnebago, or people of the sea. We have been told this year that an Algonquin, journeying beyond these peoples, encountered nations extremely populous. "I saw them assembled," said he, "as if at a fair, buying and selling, in numbers so great that they could not be counted;" it conveyed an idea of the cities of Europe. I do not know what there is in this.

Let us now visit the Southern coast of the great Saint Lawrence River. From its mouth up to the Lachine Rapids are to be found the Indians of Cape Breton. The Micmacs are farther inland; we also meet the Indians of Miscou and Gaspe; between the shores of the Acadian sea and the great river are the Maliseets, the Penobscot Abenakis, the Abenakis, the Nahiganiouetch, and a few other nations, but they are all small.

Continuing to ascend this great river from the Lachine Rapids, we find to the South flourishing nations, all settled and numerous, -- such as the Mohawk, the Oneida, the Onondaga, the Konkhandeenhronon, the Cayuga, the Susquehannock, the Seneca, the Andoouanchronon, the Kontareahronon, the Huron, the Petun, the Oherokouaehronon, the Neutrals, the Ongmarahronon, the Akhrakuaeronon, the Wenro, the Ehressaronon, the Neutrals, the Erie, the Totontaratonhronon, the Ahriottaehronon, the Oscouarahronon, the Huattoehronon, the Skenchiohronon, the Attistaehronon, the Ontarahronon, the Aoeatsioaenronnon, the Attochingochronon, the Attiouendarankhronon Neutrals. All these nations are settled. They cultivate the land, and consequently are populous. I have taken their names from a Huron map that Father Paul Ragueneau sent me. These peoples are at the North of Virginia, Florida, and perhaps even new Mexico. The greater part of these tribes understand the Huron language.

On the twenty-fourth day of June, an Englishman arrived here with one of his servants, brought in canoes by twenty Abenaki Indians. He departed from the lake or river Kennebec in Lacadie, where the English have a settlement, to search for some route through these countries to the sea of the North. The Governor, having learned of this, did not permit him to come to Quebec; he sent him away, guarded by some soldiers, urging him to hurry his return, He set about doing so, but some of the principal Indians who had brought him having fallen sick, and the streams or brooks by which he had journeyed having dried up, he came and threw himself into the hands of the French to avoid the death that he could scarcely escape on his return, so horrible and frightful are the roads. Sir Charles de Montmagny had him taken to Tadoussac, so he might return to England by way of France.

This good man told some wondrous things to us about new Mexico. "I have learned," said he, "that one can sail to that country through seas that are North of it. For two years, I have ranged the whole Southern coast, from Virginia to Kennebec, seeking to find some great river or great lake that might lead me to peoples who had some knowledge of this sea which is to the North of Mexico. Not having found any, I came to this country to enter the Saguenay river, and penetrate with the Indians of the country to the North sea." This poor man would have lost fifty lives, if he had had so many, before reaching this North sea by the way he described; and if he had found this sea, he would have discovered nothing new, nor found any passage to new Mexico. One need not be a great Geographer to recognize this fact.

It is highly probable one can descend through the second great lake of the Hurons, and through the tribes that we have named, into this sea that he was seeking. Sir Nicolet, who has advanced farthest into these so distant countries, has assured me that, if he had sailed three days' journey farther upon a great river which issues from this lake, he would have found the sea. I have strong suspicions that this is the sea which is North of new Mexico, and that from this sea there would be an outlet towards Japan and China. Still, as we do not know where this great lake extends, or this freshwater sea, it would be a bold undertaking to go and explore those countries. Our Fathers who are among the Hurons, invited by some Algonquins, are about to extend their labors to the people of the other sea, of which I have spoken above. Perhaps this voyage will be reserved for one of us who has some knowledge of the Algonquin tongue.

It remains now to provide for the Riviere des Prairies. It is thought here that if a house is built there, many Indians will come to it from different places.

If ever we are at peace with the tribes of the South, -- which will be easily accomplished if some Hollanders cede what they have usurped in Acadia, for this coast belongs to New France, -- the settlement which will be found at the Riviere des Prairies will give an easy access to all these tribes, which are numerous and settled.

THE HOSPITAL.

THE hospital Nuns arrived at Quebec on the first day of August of last year. Scarcely had they disembarked before they found themselves overwhelmed with patients. The hall of the Hospital being too small, it was necessary to build some cabins, fashioned like those of the Indians, in their garden. Not having enough furniture for so many people, they had to cut, in two or three pieces, part of the blankets and sheets they had brought for these poor sick people.

Instead of taking a little rest, and refreshing themselves after the great discomforts they had suffered upon the sea, they found themselves so burdened and occupied that we had fear of losing them and their hospital at its birth. The sick came from all directions in such numbers, their stench was so unbearable, the heat so great, the fresh food so scarce and so poor, in a country so new and strange, that I do not know how these good sisters, who almost had not even leisure in which to take a little sleep, endured all these hardships. Our Reverend Father Superior took special care of these poor Indians, and Father de Quen joined him in this work with an incomparable charity. His health was injured by it for some time, for the air was so tainted that the lungs could scarcely inhale without the heart being affected. All the French born in the country were attacked by this contagion, as well as the Indians. Those who came from your France were exempt from it, except two or three, already naturalized to the air of this region.

From August until May, more than one hundred patients entered the hospital, and more than two hundred poor Indians found relief there, either in temporary treatment or in sleeping there one or two nights, or more. There have been seen as many as ten, twelve, twenty, or thirty of them at a time. Twenty poor sick people have received baptism there; and about twenty-four, quitting this house of mercy, have entered the regions of glory. All this is due to the charity of Duchess d'Aiguillon, who accomplishes this work with a care and affection golden.

What I am about to tell is taken from the letters that the Mother Superior has written me.

"The patience of our sick astonishes me. I have seen many whose bodies were entirely covered with smallpox, and in a burning fever, complaining no more than if they were not sick, strictly obeying the physician, and showing gratitude for the slightest service that was rendered them.

"I have often wondered," says the Mother, "how these persons, so different in country, age, and sex, can agree so well. In France, a Nun has to be on her guard every day in our houses, to prevent disputes among our poor, or to quell them; and all winter we have not observed the least discord among our sick Indians, -- not even a slight quarrel has arisen.

"The remedies that we brought from Europe are good for the Indians, who have no difficulty in taking our medicines, nor in having themselves bled. The love of the mothers toward their children is great, for they take in their own mouths the medicine intended for their children, and then pass it into the mouths of their little ones." Thus the good Mother wrote to me.

On holy Thursday, as it is the custom of well-regulated hospitals to wash the feet of the poor, our Governor wished to be present at this ceremony. All the men were ranged on one side, and the women and girls on the other. The Governor began first to wash the feet of the men, Sir Marc Bras-De-Fer and the principal men of our French people followed; the Nuns, with Madame de la Pelletrie, Mademoiselle de Repentigny, and several other women, washed the feet of the Indian women. We explained to them why we performed these acts of humility; they are capable of understanding this instruction. The conclusion was agreeable to them, for a fine meal was afterward offered them. A worthy man, a resident of the country, not being able to be present at this holy act, assembled his servants in the evening, and did the same thing to them.

The Indians who leave the hospital, and who come to see us again at St. Joseph, or at Three Rivers, say a thousand pleasant things about these good Nuns.

THE SEMINARY OF THE URSULINE MOTHERS.

I HAVE never seen Mothers so solicitous for their children as are Madame Ide la Pelletrie and the Ursulines for their little seminarists. This good lady's intention was to begin a small seminary of six poor little orphan Indians, the difficulty of getting possession of her property not permitting her to do more.

Instead of six, eighteen have entered this little house. They have not dwelt there all at the same time; but usually there were six or seven lodged with Madame de la Pelletrie, -- three Nuns, and two French girls; and all these in two little rooms, where recently, two more Nuns have entered, -- without counting the little French girls who go to this small Monastery to be instructed; without counting, also, the Indian girls and women who at all hours enter the room where their little compatriots are being taught, and who often pass the night there, when overtaken by bad weather, or detained on some other account.

Imagine how great must be the discomforts arising from so narrow quarters. Let us hear them speak of their children. Those who cross over here from your France are almost all mistaken on one point, -- they first have a low opinion of our Indians, thinking them dull and slow-witted; but, as soon as they have associated with them, they confess that only education, and not intelligence, is lacking in these peoples.

Mother Cecile de la Croix and Mother Marie de saint Joseph have sometimes entertained me with the good qualities of their children. See how Mother Marie de saint Joseph speaks of them: "There is nothing so docile as these children. One can bend them as he will; they have no reply to anything one may desire from them. If they are to pray, recite their catechism, or perform some little piece of work or task, they are ready at once, without murmurs and without excuses.

"Their favorite recreation is to dance, after the fashion of their country; they do not do this, however, without permission. Having come one Friday to ask this, they were told that Jesus had died on Friday, and that it was a day of sadness. Nothing more was needed to stop them. 'We will dance no more on that day,' they said; 'we will be sad, since Jesus died on such a day.'

"They are so modest that, if one of them has her throat even a little uncovered, the others tell her that she will drive away her good Angel. This is now so accepted among them that, to warn a girl to keep within the bounds of decorum, they say to her, 'Be careful that your good Angel does not leave you;' and the girl to whom this remark is made looks herself over, to see that there is nothing unseemly."

The Mother Superior therefore writes me about them:

"The last three children whom you gave us have left their Indian nature at the door; they have brought no part of it with them. It seems as if they had always been reared here. They are not moved at seeing the Indian girls or women come and go, -- they show no desire to follow them, they salute them in the French way, and leave them smilingly; it seems as if we were their natural mothers. They come and throw themselves into our arms, -- their refuge -- when they have any little grievance.

"Having kept my bed one morning, on account of some mild illness, when I chanced to pass into their room after dinner, there were incredible welcomes and caresses; they cried out, Ninque, Ninque, 'My mother, my mother!' They threw their arms around my neck so that I had difficulty in disengaging myself. When I last went to the settlement of saint Joseph to see you, I left two of my children at home. They did nothing but lament in my absence. One of them was found bathed in tears in a little corner, crying, daiar Ninque daiar, 'Come, my mother, come;' daiar, Madame, 'Come, Madame.' She called me now in one way, now in another, thinking I would respond sooner. I will say nothing about the caresses they showered upon me at my return; as far away as they could see me through the palisade of stakes that encloses us, they would have willingly leaped over them to come and meet me. I have begun to show them how to use the needle; but my principal occupation is to make their clothes, comb their hair, and dress them; I am not capable of anything greater."

VARIOUS THINGS WHICH COULD NOT BE REPORTED IN THE PRECEDING CHAPTERS.

ALTHOUGH we live here in an age of peace, distress sometimes penetrates into our great forests as well as into your great cities. The Reverend Father Vimont, our Superior, having taken Father Raimbault and me with him to go up to Three Rivers, the barque which carried us was almost wrecked in the harbor. The next night, while we were making a prosperous voyage, we ran against some rocks, and, the tide receding, our barque lay upon its side; the tide returning, it righted itself, but it was so damaged that every part of it leaked. We turned to the other bank of this great river, to repair it; if we had delayed a quarter of an hour in reaching land, it would have been irretrievably engulfed. We proceeded to beach it behind the plateau of Saint Croix. The tide, rising, overturned it in such a way that it was no longer visible; but having finally righted, contrary to our expectations, it was promptly repaired again. The wind and tempest then arising hurled it against a rock and split it again, so that we thought it entirely shattered.

Once more we repaired it, and put it in the roadstead, but with great loss, -- for all that could perish in water was spoiled, and the relief we were bearing to the poor Savages was all lost. As soon as the barque touched bottom we were put ashore, where we took lodging at the inn of the cold and rainy Moon. Such was the first voyage that our Reverend Father Superior undertook, and this he could not finish then, for he had to return to Quebec.

We had only four workmen in our house of Notre Dame des Anges; two were drowned on the first day of May, and Father Claude Pijart almost perished with them. He therefore relates the event, in a paper which he has placed in my hands:

"I was returning from Notre Dame des Anges. Crossing the river saint Charles, -- rapid on account of the great flood of water in Spring, the Northeast wind blowing with violence, -- the canoe in which two of our men were passing me overturned; one of the men sank immediately, and did not appear again. The other was carried some distance away by the current of the tide, and was drowned. I found myself in danger, as well as these two young men; for I knew no more than a stone about swimming. I relied on the mother of mercy, the blessed Virgin. I immediately felt myself aided; I went into the water, standing upright, submerged to my head, and far from the bottom; finally I felt myself gently borne towards the shore, where I began to touch the ground with my feet. I emerged as quickly as I could; I had regret in my heart at the loss of those two poor men, who had just perished before my eyes."

Our house at Quebec caught fire and was reduced to ashes, as was also the Chapel of the Governor, and the public Church, -- all was consumed. It took place so suddenly that in less than two or three hours nothing was to be seen of all these buildings but a few cinders, and some large pieces of the walls which remained. As there are no shops here where one can supply his needs, we bring from France all we need for subsistence in this new world; and as Quebec is the port from where everything that the ships unload there is transported to the other settlements, we had collected in this building, as in a small storehouse, all supplies and assistance for our other residences and for our missions; God reduced it all to nothing. The linen, clothing, and other articles necessary for the twenty-seven persons whom we have among the Hurons, were ready to be conveyed by water to those so distant countries, and our Lord made them pass through the fire.

What was needed to maintain the residence of St. Joseph, where the Indians are assembling; the residence of Three Rivers, where likewise the Algonquins are settling; the house of Notre Dame des Anges, and this same house of Quebec, was all consumed in the flames. A rather violent wind, the extreme drought, the oily wood of the fir, of which these buildings were constructed, kindled a fire so quick and violent that hardly anything could be saved. All the vessels and the bells and chalices were melted; the cloth some virtuous persons had sent to us to clothe a few seminarists or poor Indians, was consumed. Those Royal garments that his Majesty had sent to our Indians, to be used in public functions, to honor the liberality of so great a King, were engulfed in this fiery wreck, which reduced us to the hospital; for we had to go and take lodgings in the hall of the poor, until our Governor loaned us a house, and, after being lodged there, this hall of the sick had to be changed into a Church. This was a loss that we shall feel for a long time.

Young men who marry, sometimes live two or three months with their wives without approaching them. We have learned this custom in regard to some young Christians lately married; for, as we were instructing them upon modesty and conjugal chastity, some said to us, "Do not trouble yourselves; our custom is to respect the women whom we love, and to regard them a long time as our relatives, not approaching them."

An Indian being sick, we were called to see him. His wife waited upon him with great kindness; when she saw that he was struggling and becoming frantic, she took a piece of skin and set fire to it, then rubbed it upon his head, so she might by this foul odor disgust the Manitou, -- that is, the devil, -- so that he should not approach her husband.

There was a woman who had had nine children, the last of whom was married, and had children; I mean that this woman was old, -- I believe that her age was more than 60 years; yet, one of her daughters happening to die, and leaving a baby, this good old woman took the child, and offered it her withered breast. The child, by force of pulling at it, caused the milk to return, so that the grandmother nourished it for more than a year. We saw this with our own eyes.

Here is a strange Iroquois custom: We have been told that they sometimes take a newborn child, stick arrows into it, and throw it into the fire; when the flesh is consumed, they take the bones and crumble them to powder; and when they intend to go to war they swallow a little of this powder, believing that this beverage increases their courage. They also use these ashes for their charms and superstitions. The mother who gives her child for this abominable sacrifice is rewarded with some valuable present. Is not this horrible?

Paul Le Jeune.

At Quebec, in New France, this 10th of September, 1640.

THE MISSION OF THE HURONS, FROM JUNE 1639, UNTIL JUNE 1640. SENT TO QUEBEC, TO THE REVEREND FATHER BARTHELEMY VIMONT, SU PERIOR OF THE MISSIONS OF THE JESUITS IN NEW FRANCE. FROM THE HURONS, THIS 27TH OF MAY, 1640.

THE CONDITION OF THE COUNTRY.

IN a long time, our Hurons have not had a more fertile and more plenteous year than the last, 1639. We then saw there, everything beautiful and excellent which nature has left them: I say left, because in comparison with our France and with the other quarters of the world, all their riches are only poverty. It seems nature has carried elsewhere the most precious of her good things, and has left here scarcely anything but the refuse. But what is deplorable is that instead of acknowledging the principal hand which gives them these goods, the greatest part of the people have gone away, according to their former customs, into ordinary and extraordinary banquets: or to speak more properly, into sacrifices to the devil.

As for the war, their losses have been greater than their advantages; for the whole matter consisting of a few broken heads along the highways, or of some captives brought into the country to be burned and eaten there, -- without other purpose than to ruin and exterminate their enemies by killing them, and to frighten them from coming to war against them, by treating them cruelly in their tortures, -- in all that, they have lost more than they have gained. These poor wretches are in almost continual terror of their enemies being at their gates, and coming to carry off their villages.

What the principal ministers of Satan, or the Magicians of the country, work for is to predict the results of war, to discover by their spells the hostile bands which take the field, and the number of them, with the places where they are concealed, -- intimidating by their threats those who have not relied on their art, and on the contrary giving assurances of powerfully protecting those who acknowledge by some gift the demon that they worship. These fraudsters hold up their heads, and are acknowledged in public as Angels of light, and the country's defenders; they are loved and honored in this capacity; they are obeyed in all that they command, when they have once obtained credit. But there are others of them who conceal themselves like Angels of darkness, and dare not appear, -- being accounted the country's misfortune, and the instruments of the demon for procuring the death of those whom they are supposed to bewitch. These are in abomination, and, even when they are only suspected, they are slain with impunity. It is sure that the one set is not whiter than the other, all being imps of satan; but yet, so not to confuse them, we will call the first set, by a name more honorable among the powers of hell, Magicians; and the second, Sorcerers, who are merely the valets of the devil.

In this connection, something remarkable happened at the Village of la Conception, about the end of July. A Magician -- being consulted about the fears which prevailed, in case some enemies were in the field, -- after having enacted many ceremonies, said that he saw so many, and that in so many days they would arrive in the country. I do not know what took place, but he acted in such a way that they had no faith in him. This wretched man, finding no better means for utilizing his trade and for maintaining his credit, one evening thought to follow his wife, who was going to the woods, and taking her aside, he split her head. Then, to inspire terror in the village, he hurries there all out of breath, uttering the cry of one who had discovered the enemy; the young men rush to arms, everybody is in awe and in dread in case someone has been killed. There is visiting through the cabins, and they soon ascertain the missing one; but the fright and the darkness of the night prevent them from pursuing the enemy, and from seeking this poor woman.

The next morning, they found her corpse bathed in her blood; but, having perceived no trail of an enemy, they soon suspected the assault, and so many circumstances increased the suspicion that they no longer doubted it. Still, those of the village dared not reveal the secret of the matter, in their fear in case, if it came to light, they would be forced, according to the laws, to make satisfaction for this murder to the relatives of the deceased, who was from another village. But God did not permit this wretched man to proceed further; twenty days later, while going through the villages to raise the cry of another massacre, committed in fact by the enemies, he was attacked by a man of the country, -- who, accusing him of being a sorcerer, split his head, without any complaint or investigation having been made.

Since I am discussing these ministers of hell, I will add here the following story. A new magician, desiring to have himself recognized, proclaimed throughout the country that the villages should make him certain little presents, at the beginning of their fishing, and while it lasted, should assemble in a body, and should make a public fire for casting into it, by way of sacrifice, some cakes of tobacco in his honor and his demon's, invoking him aloud. Those who did this would return prosperously, with many fish; but that those who should ignore this advice, would be badly off. Several villages accepted his offer, and sent him the gifts which he had desired, with promise of making good the other conditions, -- which succeeded well with them: a single village refused to obey him, with some contempt. "Is it true that they are mocking me?" he said; "let them be assured that all those among them who embark to go fishing will not return." It must be that the devil was in league with him; for, at the end of two or three months, the two principal Captains of this village, returning from their fishing, together with two others of their relatives, were surprised by a tempest in the midst of the lake, -- a thunderstorm burst upon them, and almost in a moment they were all swallowed up in the waters.

Let us come to the disease which, having put everything in desolation, gave us much exercise. It was upon the return from the journey, which the Hurons had made to Quebec, that it started in the country, -- our Hurons, while again on their way up here, having thoughtlessly mingled with the Algonquins, whom they met on the route, most of whom were infected with smallpox. The first Huron who introduced it came ashore at the foot of our house, newly built on the bank of a lake, -- from where being carried to his own village, about 2 miles away from us, he died immediately after. Without being a great prophet, one could assure oneself that the evil would soon be spread abroad through all these regions: for the Hurons -- no matter what plague or contagion they may have live in the midst of their sick, in the same indifference, and community of all things, as if they were in perfect health. In fact, in a few days, almost all those in the cabin of the deceased found themselves infected; then the evil spread from house to house, from village to village, and finally became scattered throughout the country.

THE PERSECUTIONS EXCITED AGAINST US.

THE villages nearer to our new house, having been the first ones attacked, and most afflicted, the devil seized his opportunity for reawakening all the old imaginations, and causing the former complaints of us to be renewed; as if we were the sole cause of all their misfortunes, and especially of the sick. They no longer speak of anything else, they cry aloud that the French must be massacred. These Indians animate one another to that effect; the death of their nearest relatives takes away their reason, and increases their rage against us so strongly in each village that the best informed can hardly believe that we can survive so horrible a storm. They observed, with some sort of reason that, since our arrival in these lands, those who had been the nearest to us, had been the most ruined by the diseases, and that the whole villages of those who had received us now appeared utterly exterminated; and certainly, they said, the same would be the fate of all the others if the course of this misfortune were not stopped by the massacre of those who were the cause of it.

This was a common opinion, not only in private conversation but in the general councils held on this account, where most of the votes went for our death, -- there being only a few elders, who thought they obliged us by deciding upon banishment.

What powerfully confirmed this false imagination was that, at the same time, they saw us dispersed throughout the country, -- seeking all sorts of ways to enter the cabins, instructing and baptizing those most ill with a care which they had never seen. No doubt, they said, it must be that we had a secret understanding with the disease (for they believe that it is a demon), since we alone were all full of life and health, although we constantly breathed nothing but a totally infected air, -- staying whole days close by the side of the most foul-smelling patients, for whom everyone felt horror; we carried the trouble with us, since, wherever we set foot, either death or disease followed us. Because of all these sayings, many held us in abomination; they expelled us from their cabins, and did not allow us to approach their sick, and especially children: not even to lay eyes on them; we were dreaded as the greatest sorcerers on earth. It must be acknowledged that these poor people are in some sense excusable. For it has happened often, and has been remarked more than a hundred times, that where we were most welcome, where we baptized most people, there it was where they died the most; and on the contrary, in the cabins to which we were denied entrance, although they were sometimes sick to extremity, at the end of a few days one saw every person prosperously cured.

Robert le Coq, one of our servants, had returned from Quebec in a state of sickness which caused as much horror as compassion to all those who had courage enough to examine the ulcers with which all his limbs were covered. Never would a Huron have believed that a body so filled with miseries could have returned to health; regarding him then as good as dead, there were found slanderers so assured in their falsehood that they publicly maintained that this young Frenchman had told them in confidence that the Jesuits alone were the authors and the cause of the diseases which from year to year kept depopulating the country; that he had discovered our mysteries, and the most hidden secrets of our enchantments. Some said that we nourished, in a retired place of our house, a certain serpent of which their fables make mention, and that this was the disease. Others said that it was a kind of toad, all marked with pits, and that somebody had even perceived it. Certain ones made out that this disease was a somewhat more crafty demon; and by what they said, we kept it concealed in the barrel of a musket, and from there it was easy for us to send it wherever we would.

They reported a thousand like fables, and all that was held to be true, since it proceeded, they said, from the lips of a Frenchman, who before his death had told them of so black a magic, by which in fact all their villages appeared to be desolated. Those were the most powerful weapons with which they combated us; this was the main reason which made us all criminals. The surrounding nations were soon informed of this; everybody was imbued with it, and even the children, as well as the fathers, in whatever place we might go to, favored the decree for our death.

THE GENERAL CONDITION OF CHRISTIANITY IN THESE COUNTRIES.

Of the two methods by which one could proceed further toward the conversion of these peoples, -- either by the plan of residences, or by that of Missions, -- that of the residences having appeared to us full of inconveniences, and much less effective, we have decided upon that of the missions, although much more vexatious and more laborious, especially in these regions.

Because of this plan, after having measured our strength in the language, the distribution of our workmen was made, in all the country where we could go, into five missions, -- that is, from Saint Marie, to the Ataronchronon Hurons; from saint Joseph, to the Attignenonghac Hurons; from la Conception, to the Attignawantan Hurons; from St. Jean Baptiste, to the Arendaronon Hurons; and from the one to which we have given the name of "the Apostles," to the Petuns. It was at All Saints that we dispersed, which is the time of the return from trading expeditions, and the season, until Spring, for finding the men, women, and children in their cabins; though the most inconvenient time for travel.

We had made, during the Summer, a round nearly everywhere, to provide for what was most urgent, and to gain some knowledge of the disposition of minds. In this expedition, we gave the name of some Saint to all the hamlets and villages that we encountered, which was later completed in the winter missions, -- with the thought that, if ever God gave his blessing to our slight labors, and any should come to build a Church in these places, such would be built in honor of the Saint whose name we gave.

Next, we have had means to take the census not only of the villages, large and small, but also of the cabins, the fires, and even nearly of the persons in all the country, -- there being no other way to preach the Gospel in these regions than at each family's hearth, of which we tried to omit not one. In these five missions there are thirty-two hamlets and straggling villages, which comprise in all about seven hundred cabins, about two thousand fires, and about twelve thousand persons.

These villages and cabins were more populous formerly, but the extraordinary diseases, and the wars within some years, have carried off the best portion: there remain only a few old men, few persons of skill and management.

I say nothing here of the injuries from the weather, which our workmen have been compelled to suffer during their journeys from village to village in their territory, -- always traveling on foot during the Winter, laden with their little goods and chapels, through narrow paths covered with snow, which, frequently disappearing, leave the traveler in doubt and uncertainty as to the ways, from where ensue quite common bewilderments.

But the culmination of these misfortunes is to have no inn to retreat to, and to be compelled to seek the cabin of some Indian who is willing to receive us, -- where, usually, the greatest affection that has been shown us this year was in the way of continual reproaches for the ruin of the country, of which we were held to be the cause. To have, for bed, the ground covered with a sorry piece of bark; for all food, a handful or two of parched corn, or of meal soaked in water, which often leaves our hunger quite undiminished; and after all that, not to dare to do any act, -- not even the most holy ones, -- which is not suspected and mistaken for enchantments. If we would either kneel down, or say our Office by the light of five or six coals, those were precisely these acts of black magic by which we were causing them all to die. If we asked the name of someone, to write it in the register of our baptized ones, and not lose memory of it, it was (they said) that we might pierce him secretly, and afterward, tearing out this written name, cause the death, by this same act, of him or her who bore that name; in everything, we were criminals.

THE PERMANENT RESIDENCE OF SAINT MARIE.

I WROTE last year that we had two Residences in the country of the Hurons, -- the one of St. Joseph, at Teanaustaye; the other of la Conception, at Ossossane; besides these, we were intending to build other new ones in certain more distant villages. But, since then, -- having ascertained that the multiplicity of so many Residences was subject to many inconveniences, and that the conversion of these peoples could be further advanced through the channel of missions, -- we decided to combine our two houses into one. And -- so that eventually we should not be forced to change places, as the Indians do, who transfer their village from one place to another after eight or nine years -- we chose a place where we judged we could settle permanently.

This place is situated in the middle of the country, on the shore of a beautiful river which, being not more than half a mile in length, joins together two lakes, -- one, which extends to the West, verging a little toward the North, which might pass for a freshwater sea; the other, which is toward the South, the contour of which is about 5 miles.

We began to establish ourselves there as early as last Summer, and about the middle of the Autumn we moved there the residence which we had at Ossossane, having delayed to combine with it in like manner that of saint Joseph: but, at the beginning of Spring, the insolence of the Indians obliged us to do so much sooner than we had decided to. And therefore we have now in all the country but a single house which is to be firm and stable, -- the vicinity of the waters being advantageous to us for supplying the want, in these regions, of every other vehicle; and the lands being fairly good for the native corn, which we intend, as time goes on, to harvest for ourselves.

We are now laboring to establish ourselves there, and to build some abode reasonably suitable to our functions; but that is done with pains that it would be difficult to explain, -- having no help or assistance from the country, and having an almost universal lack of workmen and tools. We have given to this new house the name of Saint Marie, or Notre Dame de la Conception.

It had been one of our thoughts while building a house apart, remote from the vicinity of the villages, that it would serve for the retreat and meditation of our evangelistic laborers, who after their combats would find this solitude full of delights: but never would we have believed that the first for whom this house would serve for this purpose was to be a poor Indian, whose spirit is so far removed from these ideas. This was Joseph Chihouatenhoua, surnamed here par excellence "the Christian."

On account of the storms which we were anticipating, we judged it proper to inform him with some more particular instruction, so as to strengthen his courage, as the one who was to serve as example to all the others. We then broached the matter to him, and gave him some idea of the spiritual exercises. The time was taken for this purpose, but extraordinary occupations coming upon him, one after the other, the matter dragged along. This good man perceived as much, and plainly suspecting, of his own choice, that there might be some ruse of the devil there, he left in God's hands the care of his family, and came to find us when we were least expecting him.

On one of his eight days of retreat, while he was warming himself, a band of ten or twelve Indians, of the eldest in the country, entered our cabin; these Indians at once began their usual conversation, -- that we were the ruin of their country. This worthy Christian, after having made a public profession of what he was, began to speak to them so appropriately, and with so much effectiveness, that though they had come in as wolves, they returned from there as lambs.

On leaving his retreat, our Joseph Chihouatenhoua felt himself compelled to visit some relatives of his, in a village quite near here. Father le Mercier, who had assisted him in his exercises, also accompanied him on this journey. He began with a visit to a brother of his. That Indian said the Indians talked at the feasts and the assemblies of nothing but him and the French; that matters were becoming more and more exasperating; and that plans seemed to be completed for getting rid of them.

THE MISSION OF SAINT MARIE TO THE ATARONCHRONON HURONS.

THIS house of Saint Marie bears not only the character of a Residence but also of a Mission, as having four villages depending on the care and the attention of those who live in it. These four villages are Saint Anne, St. Louis, St. Denys, and St. Jean; the number of souls may reach fourteen hundred.

The village of Saint Anne was the first which gave us exercise, -- having been the first afflicted with the disease. No one died in it, except those baptized, or sufficiently instructed to enjoy this good fortune. It was through experiencing many humiliations that we gained this advantage; for, as the baptisms had not the result which many had claimed, -- the restoration of bodily health, -- they were soon denounced, and the report was immediately spread that baptism was fatal. Because of that, the cabins of many were closed to us; they regard us as bringing disaster to the country; they threaten us, and tell us aloud that never had a Huron sorcerer been killed who had given more occasion for it than we.

The other villages of this mission, a little more distant, soon afterward gave us a good deal of trouble, the disease having not long delayed to spread there. One of our Fathers, making his visit to the village of saint Jean, finds unawares in the middle of a cabin a tall man, utterly hideous, entirely covered with sores, and in a sitting posture. "Come here, I beg you, my brother," exclaimed the sick man, "and give me some water." The Father, persuading himself that the sick man desired some water flavored with two or three grapes, or with a little sugar, which we sometimes give the children to obtain opportunity to baptize them, produces some grapes to put them in the water. "No, no," said this Indian, "it is not that water which I mean. I speak to you of the kind that removes all sins, and that prevents us from being burned in hell. Besides," he added, "you must know what is making me die; it is not the smallpox with which you see me covered, but two stabs with a knife that in despair I have thrust into my belly, and an awl that I have swallowed, -- seeing that the physicians of the country, and our magicians, gave me no satisfaction. I ask pardon of God." The Sun had not yet set when he died.

Some days ago, a young man from saint Francois Xavier entered our cabin early in the morning; he had come with a firm step, and singing like those who go to war. Hardly is he seated when his heart fails him; he falls to the ground and cannot rise again. We suppose that he is either acting the lunatic, or that he is one; we try to put him out; he gently asks us to wait. His eyes roll in his head, the foam comes to his mouth; we do not know what these symptoms mean. We ask him his name, where he is from, and who are his relatives, so one may go and fetch them: to that he answers only, "Alas! I shall be dead before they come; only give them that," he said, drawing from his tobacco pouch a piece of root. We are ignorant of his meaning; still, one of our Fathers leaves hurriedly to go and fetch his relatives.

Hardly had he crossed half the width of the lake, on which the ice was still quite firm, when he met some Indians who were fishing. He said to the one who was nearest that such a young man from the next village was sick in our house, and at the same time hands him the piece of root. This man puts it to his lips, and without making other answer to the Father, exclaims to his comrades: "Such a one is dead, -- he has eaten wolfsbane; let us go and get his body." They leave their fishing there, they run hurriedly; but the Father tries to anticipate them, -- he comes running, all out of breath, and exclaiming that we must baptize this man as soon as possible, -- that he had eaten poison. While the Father was on his way, the sick man had told us that poison was causing his death; then we had instructed him, and happily encouraged him for receiving baptism. We were completing the act of his salvation, when those Indians arrived in a crowd, and put him on a sled to draw him over the ice of the lake, and convey him to his house; but he soon began to vomit blood, and suddenly died on the way. It all lasted not an hour. This happened on the 21st of March.

A certain Oscouenrout, of the principal captains of the nation of the bear, -- having met Father le Mercier in one of the cabins of the village of saint Louis, had no sooner seen him than he fell into a frenzy which rendered him more like one possessed than a man in anger. This wretch has one of the sharpest tongues in the country: but, if ever he were eloquent, he showed it in the speech that he then made -- reproaching us for all their miseries, in a tone and with an accent full of fury. Then, he takes a glowing firebrand, and approaching the Father, says to him: "Resolve not to leave the place; today you will be burned." The Father, who had his tongue at command, and better courage than this wretch, raises his voice higher than he. "That," he said, "is not what I fear; my life does not depend on you, but on the God whom the believers worship. If he allow the demons of hell to use your hand to deal this blow, I cannot find a happier encounter: but as for you, you will forever bear shame and confusion on your faces." At the same time, the Father thought that the best way to exorcise this storm would be to preach, -- there being a great assembly there. The force of his remarks belittled that arrogant spirit, which then spoke no more; and the Father, after having done what he was intending to do in this cabin, went on to finish the rest of his visits, in which he was everywhere received with wonder because he was still alive, -- the rumor having circulated that it was all over with him, and that they had burned the black gown and split his head.

Only two months ago, they held a general council of the country, at the same village of saint Louis; our lives were vigorously tossed about there, for the space of a whole night (for this is the time of their councils, -- is it a wonder that the spirits of darkness preside there?); most of them resolved upon death, "And the more promptly," they said, "the better." A single nation resisted, showing the consequences of this resolution, which tended to the ruin of the country. Minds rebel against this opposition: those who were on our side, seeing themselves the weaker, say, "Let us then put the French to death, since you wish it; but let those who so eagerly prosecute this affair, themselves begin the execution of that: we can well clear ourselves from it." Then they all send back the ball to one another, pretending that it is not for them to begin; whole hours elapse in this debate. An elder who is favorable to us begins to speak, after having long been silent. "As for me," he said, "I am of the opinion that we begin with ourselves; we are assured that there are a great many sorcerers among us, -- those would continue to cause us to die, even though we should have massacred all the black robes. Let us make a strict investigation of those wretches who bewitch us; then, when they shall have been put to death, if the course of the disease does not cease, we will have reason to kill the French, and to prove whether their massacre will stop the trouble." This thought, for the time, stopped the execution of their evil purpose.

Father Pierre Pijart having a dispute in the village of saint Jean, with an old Magician of the country, this barbarian, having become angry, threatens him that we might surely make up our minds to die, and that already Echon (Father de Brebeuf) was stricken with disease. Father Pijart laughs at this old man, -- it not being three hours since he had left Father de Berber at the house of St. Joseph, in good health. The Magician answers him: "You will see whether I am a liar; I have told you enough." In fact, Father Pijart having returned the same day to St. Joseph, 5 good miles away, finds Father de Berber attacked with a heavy fever, a pain in the stomach, and headache, and in all the symptoms of a severe illness; at the moment when the Magician had spoken, no Indian had been warned of it. But if the devil and his ministers are devising our death, the Father's prompt cure -- he was not sick more than 24 hours -- plainly showed us that there are spirits a thousand times more powerful, who Watch for our defense and preservation.

THE RESIDENCE AND MISSION OF SAINT JOSEPH TO THE ATTIGNENONGHAC.

IT is difficult to live in peace amid a barbarous youth exasperated by the evil reports about us. Our Fathers have experienced the same in the village of St. Joseph, for that is where the stones have come flying over our heads even to the middle of our cabin; that is where the crosses have been felled and torn away, hatchets and fire-brands lifted against us, blows given with clubs, and blood shed, -- almost every day we have suffered a thousand insolences. And even some of the most considerable Captains, seeing the youth already furious and with arms in hand, have excited them to do worse than they were doing; have openly condemned us as malefactors, and the greatest sorcerers in their lands; have decreed that our cabin must be demolished and razed to the ground as soon as possible, -- adding that even though we should be massacred, we would only get according to our desserts. So they were far from repressing the acts of violence, and stopping the blows of those who had already rushed upon us.

Father Jean de Berber and Father Pierre Chastelain have most habitually cultivated this vineyard: besides the village of saint Joseph, they have cared for the villages of saint Michel and saint Ignace. That of saint Joseph being the largest and most populous in all the country, has alone furnished them more occupation during the disease, than several others together have done elsewhere.

The number of the baptized in this single village, since the last Report, has risen to more than two hundred and sixty; of whom more than seventy children under seven years having happily died after baptism, this consolation will enable us to await with more patience the time when the others shall, some day, have become likewise baptized.

Several notable things have happened to Father de Berber, Superior of this Residence, even to the point of often taking the morsel from his own lips, -- a charity the more precious in the sight of the Angels, as it has until now been recompensed only with ingratitude, threats, and blows; even lately he has been unworthily treated and outrageously beaten in the village of saint Joseph. He is the one who in the minds of these poor Indians always Passes for the greatest sorcerer of the French, and the source of all the miseries which ruin the country.

We have therefore applied ourselves to the care of the village of saint Joseph, though we have not omitted the two others belonging to this mission, -- saint Michel and St. Ignace, where several children as well as adults have been baptized during the disease. We have also done our utmost to preserve there those few Christians whom we had acquired there in the past; but this is where we have had much trouble, -- to such a degree had the disease and the bad reports upset their brains.

These two villages have been the first which were solemnly forbidden to us by the Captains and Elders, who took for a pretext that some of their young men had plans on our lives; it was necessary to interrupt, but lately we have found the way to resume the course of our visits, their minds being somewhat pacified.

THE MISSION OF LA CONCEPTION TO THE ATTIGNAWANTAN.

HAVING left the Residence which we had in former years at the village of la Conception, or Ossossane, we have continued to cultivate this same village by means of a mission, to which twelve other hamlets and little villages have also been added, -- St. Francois Xavier, St. Charles, Saint Agnes, Saint Magdelaine, Saint Genevieve, St. Martin, St. Antoine, Saint Cecile, Saint Catherine, Saint Terese, Saint Barbe, and saint Estienne.

Father Paul Ragueneau has had the principal care of this mission; Father du Perron and Father Chaumonot successively have assisted him; and all three have had to suffer and labor, -- both because of the extent of their department, and because of the character of the persons who are encountered there. From there have come the worst reports and the most harmful plans against us; those are the ones who in the public councils cried loudest for massacre, to be able to get rid of us with less consequence to themselves.

Here follows what Father Ragueneau writes to me of the state of this mission; in one of his letters.

"The cabins of our Christians in this village of la Conception are the most afflicted with the malady: besides that alone of Joseph Chihouatenhoua, where five children have had the disease, there is not one which does not find itself more severely treated than are the families of the infidels. Rene counts as many as eleven dead in his cabin; the good Anne sees herself robbed of all her children, the sole support of her old age, -- but minds rebellious against God, and those which have always leagued themselves against the faith, boast to see their whole family in health, and that, in spite of heaven, they are happy in this world. Because of that, the reports are more than ever confirmed, that the Faith is useless to those who embrace it; that, if God does not preserve them, it is a lack of affection, or lack of power; that from the evil treatment which they experience in this life, one cannot reasonably draw any other conclusion than that the hopes of Paradise are nothing but fables; that the mortality being chiefly among the children, we cannot attribute the death of these little creatures to the sins of the parents, -- since God ought not to punish the innocent for the guilty.

"The Faith is now in disgrace not only in this village, but also in all the neighboring hamlets, -- which, seeing themselves less attacked with the trouble, harden themselves more than ever against the Faith. On the round we have just made, we have found almost everywhere the cabins closed, and several, who saw themselves surprised by our arrival, immediately drove us out; others said that they were deaf, and even maliciously stopped their ears, for fear of hearing us; some acted as madmen and lunatics, and exclaimed that they could not bear the sight of us: some fled and left the cabin almost empty for us.

"We have still, in almost every village, gained some souls for God, -- save in that of Saint Terese, where we had a worse reception. We had no sooner arrived than a well-built young man asks us to instruct him; he listens gladly, and, to see him, one would have supposed that he relished the words of God. After a long time, here comes another Indian, much deformed, who presents himself with his face quite inflamed, and commands us to leave. I rise; this young man whom we had instructed forcibly seizes the Crucifix which I wore about my neck, takes a hatchet in his hand, and says that I should die. 'I do not fear death,' I say to him; 'you should thank me because we come to teach you: if you wish to kill me, I will not flee, for death will place me in Heaven.' He lifts the hatchet directly above the middle of my head and deals his blow so steadily that Father Chaumonot and I think to see at that moment what we have so long desired; I do not know what stopped the blow, unless the greatness of my sins, but, short of feeling the hatchet cleave a head in twain, one cannot see oneself closer to death. He is intending to repeat his stroke; a woman stops his arm, and seizes him.

"At least these poor Indians could see that those who have their hope in Heaven do not fear death. I ask to have my Crucifix again; this young man wishes to throw it into the fire, and redoubles his threats; but finally he is made to disappear. We ask for the captain of the village; he comes, and we word our complaint to him; about a quarter of an hour later this young man returns, and offers to give back my Crucifix if we promise them that the disease will not attack their village. We then instructed them, for there were a good many Indians."

It is a pitiful thing to see these poor Indians accuse everything but themselves for the misfortunes with which God punishes them: still, there are some who are sufficiently clear-sighted. One, -- one of the best minds in the village of la Conception, and of those best informed in matters of the Faith, but an infidel, -- having spoken to our Fathers about the death which was ravaging the whole country, and about the evil reports which were circulated against us, added:

"Those are sheer slanders; you have not left your native land, your goods, and all that you hold dearest in this world, to come here and procure our death: what profit would you derive from it? But I see well that God is angry with us, because, having been sufficiently instructed, we refuse to believe and obey him. Regardless, the misfortune began with Ihonatiria, which now finds itself ruined; and that is the place where, having first made your abode, you also first announced the word of God. Ossossane has since received you; most have refused to believe; in consequence, the misfortune attacks us, and ruins all our families. This year you have traversed the whole country; you have hardly found anyone who would abandon what God forbids. Immediately the trouble has spread everywhere, and the country finds itself ruined. My opinion," he added, "would be that all the cabins should be closed to you; or, while allowing you to enter them, one should lower the head when you speak of God, and stop one's ears, without further disputing against you; for then we should be less guilty, and God would not punish us so cruelly."

Despite all these contrary dispositions, we have baptized there more than 250 persons, mostly at the height of the disease. Of this number, more than 70 baptized children, under 7 years of age, are now in Paradise, -- without including with them more than 60 other little innocents who, having been baptized in past years, have this year been carried away by death.

Here follows what Father Ragueneau writes to me:

"One evening, we arrived at Ossossane, weary from a somewhat laborious excursion.

"We cannot have admittance to a certain cabin, which is filled only with sick people; when we are in the street, a child of about four years, full of health, runs up to us and pleases us uncommonly. We ask him his house, he points it out to us; we fear that at his age, in the midst of so many sick people, death might easily seize him before we could provide for the salvation of his soul. I ask Father Chaumonot to baptize him in secret. He takes from the road a handful of snow, warms it in his hand, and pours the water over this little child, who at the same time smiled at him. And then, as he had received all that he desired Of us, he runs away toward his cabin; he immediately falls sick. All those of his house whom we had not been able to approach, return to health; he alone is carried off by the violence of the disease, and his soul takes flight to Heaven.

"At the village of saint Xavier, I find three sick brothers; I instruct them; their mother opposes their baptism. 'One of their brothers,' she says, 'died last Summer for having been baptize.' She adds other blasphemies against God. I leave this Fury, and turn toward the children: I speak to them as strongly as I can about hell, and of those flames which are never quenched. I turn to the eldest, aged nearly twenty years: 'are you ready for these pains?' I say to him.

"'Alas, no indeed! Baptize me.'

"'What? wretch,' said his mother to him, 'are you then resolved to die? you are dead if they baptize you.'

"'I wish them to baptize me,' he answers, 'for I dread those flames, which burn everything and never cease.'

"I conferred that baptism; but the two other brothers had not sufficient courage to disobey their mother. Eight days later, I return to see them: the one whom I had baptized had not lived long; the two others had escaped. With what eyes could they look at me? And had not this poor mother some reason to hold baptism in abomination, and him who had conferred it?"

Father Garnier fortunately arrived in this village at the hour when they were bringing home a young man, who was already nearly dead. While they were fishing, two days' journey from their own country, an unknown nation had come to fall upon their cabin, and had killed on the spot three or four of our Hurons, some others having escaped. This man, seeing a shower of arrows burst upon them like hail, instead of taking flight, seized in his arms a little brother that he had, and parried all the darts which they were letting loose upon this little boy, -- receiving them upon his own body with a brotherly love which seems to be marked by something more than nature. In fact, he saved this little brother, but himself was pierced through with arrows, and fell, as if dead, upon the one whom he tried to cover with his body in dying.

"On the eve of All Saints, I am compelled to run alone into two or three cabins, in the midst of a dense forest, where the disease was ruining them. I set foot in a poor little house where I had never entered; I find a young lad in great danger of dying. I instruct him, and prepare him for baptism; his father opposes it, and will not allow me this, unless at the same time I baptize another, who is still in the cradle. I object to that, this smaller one being in no way sick; the father, on his side, also persists in his refusal, telling me that he wished that, if his two children died, they should go in company, either to heaven or to hell. I am compelled to grant him what he desires, so as not to lose a soul; I then baptize them both. After eight days, I return; I find them no longer alive; I am driven from the cabin, and they will hear no further mention of God."

One of our Fathers enters a cabin; he accosts a sick man there who is drawing near death; he obtains with much difficulty, from several who were present, the leisure to instruct this poor dying man. He is instructed and made ready; he gives his consent to baptism; there needs nothing more but some water. At this moment, a little girl of seven or eight years gets up, takes the bucket in which the water was, pours it on the ground, and tramples it with her feet; she exclaims that upon her word, the sick man should not be baptized. "You are dead," she says to him; "if you allow them to baptize you; retract your consent: as for me, whatever you do, I will prevent them from finding water." To conclude; this little fury of hell is so eloquent that the sick man goes back on his word, and will not be baptized.

"Do you wish then to be damned?"

"Certainly; I am fully resolved," he says, "to suffer the fires and the flames of hell. I have prepared myself from my early youth to be cruelly burned; I will show my courage there."

THE CHRISTIANS OF THIS SAME MISSION OF LA CONCEPTION.

LAST year, this Church flourished quite happily. This year, the number of members has notably fallen off; many have been overthrown to the ground, who at the death of their parents, of their nephews, of their children, and at the ruin of their family, have not had faith enough to endure those blows from the hand of God, and have blasphemed against him. These baptized people, seeing themselves more severely dealt with than those who were infidels, have abandoned Christianity.

A good old woman of about seventy years has not been exempt from the scourge which has ravaged this little Church: perhaps in all the country there has been no one deeper in affliction than she. She had only two grown daughters and a niece, who were the sole support of her old age; God took all three in less than three weeks; she then saw herself desolate, -- not alone, but to increase her misery, with three little orphan children on her hands.

This is not all; these three little innocents fall sick almost on the same day, and are so low that they can ask help only by their cries. When she soothes one, the other weeps on seeing her leave it; one is in the cradle, and cries after milk; he stretches out his hands to his grandmother, to cling to a withered breast, which has no more juice; the two others are also dying with hunger and ask her for food. This poor old woman is so weak that hardly in the course of an hour can she crush a handful of corn between two stones. Besides, wood fails her, and during the rigor of the cold she has no fuel to maintain her fire; to go and cut some in the woods, -- besides the fact that she sees herself almost entirely naked, -- her sight and strength fail her. Throughout her village, they have had speech enough and malice enough to grieve her misery, and accuse God as being powerless, but there was scarcely anyone, even of her nearest relatives, who gave her any assistance. Her affliction has terrified many, and has made them lose courage, -- fearing, they said, a like misfortune if they persisted in the Faith; but she, alone, more steadfastly bore her trouble than the others considered it. As for us, although we did our utmost to aid her, and though this misery touched us keenly, we still took pleasure in seeing the firmness of her heart in so genuine a trial.

Her simplicity was so great that, seeing those little orphans who remained sick with her, although they had already been baptized, she turned to one of our Fathers: She says to him, "These children are dying; I ask you, baptize them again, so that they may more certainly go to heaven; it will be my consolation to see them die afterwards." One of them made no long stay; another -- the one who lacks milk -- will soon follow him.

THE MISSION OF SAINT JEAN BAPTISTE TO THE ARENDARONON HURONS.

THE Arendaronons are one of the four nations which compose the Hurons; it is the most Eastern nation of all, and is the one which first encountered the French, and to which, in consequence, the trade belonged, according to the laws of the country. They could enjoy this alone; still, they found it good to share it with the other nations, retaining for themselves, however, more especially the character of our allies; and on this account, inclining to protect the French when some disaster has happened. This is where the late Sir de Champlain stopped longest on the voyage that he made up here, about 22 years ago; and where his reputation still lives in the minds of these people, who honor, even after so many years, many excellent virtues which they admired in him, and in particular his abstinence with respect to the women. If only all the French who first came to these regions had been like him, then we would not so often blush for them in the presence of our Indians, who oppose the immodesties and the vices of several French, as if this were an infallible proof that what we threaten them with, concerning hell, is only fables, since those first Frenchmen had no fear of it.

This so special alliance which these Arendaronon peoples have with the French had often given us the thought of going to impart to them the riches of the Gospel; but our deficiency in the language had always prevented us from advancing to that point, having found ourselves occupied from the outset in our first abiding place, which was situated at the other end of the country. This year, having found ourselves strong enough for this enterprise, we began a mission there, which has had three villages in its department, St. Jean Baptiste, St. Joachim, and Saint Elizabeth. Fathers Antoine Daniel and Simon Le Moyne have had the care of them.

They made their most usual abode in the more populous village of St. Jean Baptiste, having the most work to do there. First, they stated in open council the purpose of their coming, which was approved by everyone: people spoke of nothing but believing, and embracing the Faith; the cabins were open to them.

The disease, which had already begun in this village, increased after the arrival of our Fathers; the affection of these poor Indians seemed at the same time to increase toward our Fathers; one or two raisins, the palm of the hand full of half-sweetened water, the assistance which they tried to give the sick, either by counsel or by going to ask donations in the cabins of the more wealthy for those who were in poverty -- these were the charms of a charity which had never been seen in these villages. The disease makes its ravages there: this entire village, flourishing and large, is becoming a woeful hospital.

A man of this same village was, during that time, engaged in fishing; a demon appeared to him in the form of a tall and handsome young man. "Fear not," said this arrogant spirit; "I am the master of the earth, whom you Hurons honor under the name of Iouskeha; I am the one whom the French wrongly call Jesus, but they do not know me. I have pity on your country, which I have taken under my protection; I come to teach you both the reasons and the remedies for your misfortune. It is the strangers who are the cause of it; they now travel two by two throughout the country, with the plan of spreading the disease everywhere. They will not stop with that; after this smallpox which now depopulates your cabins, there will follow certain colics which in less than three days will carry off all the remainder. You can prevent this misfortune; drive out from your village the two black gowns who are there. As for those who are now attacked by the smallpox, I wish you to serve me in curing them; prepare a quantity of such a water, run as fast as possible to the village, and tell the elders to carry and distribute this potion during the whole night. Then all the youth and the war Captains will go acting like madmen through all the cabins; but I wish them to continue even until the dawn of day." After that, the demon disappears.

This poor man immediately hurries to the village, and gives warning of all that he knows; then the Elders three times assemble the council. These diabolical ceremonies are received with approval; toward evening, one hears in all the streets nothing but the shout of the Captains, who urge the youth to act bravely as madmen.

As our missionaries were lodged in the cabin of the principal Captain, it was there that the first act of this comedy began; our Fathers had to break up their little retreat to prevent what these mad fellows would have done, for he is judged the most valiant who best acts the maniac. Everywhere were heard only howlings, nothing but agitation and madness; but the rigor of the cold increases; these masqueraders withdraw a little after midnight. On that account, these new Apothecaries (six of the Elders who bore, in silence, a great kettleful of that diabolical water, of which they made all the sick people drink), these physicians of hell, ceased to make their round, because the follies of the young men had ceased. The next night, it was necessary to satisfy the devil, and begin again, quite afresh. This night was that of Christmas, during which the demon was punctually obeyed. Because of that, this Prince of wantonness ordered infamous dances and feasts during all those holy days.

See the souls of these poor Indians possessed by the demon; their affection for us is changed into hatred. This spirit of deceit having assured them that we alone were the cause of their ruin, the doors of the cabins begin to be closed to our Fathers; the sight of them is dreaded, as if a single one of their looks caused all the children to die; they are held in abomination, and they hardly find anyone who tolerates them.

From day to day, their minds become further embittered; the false reports which came from the neighboring nations augment their suspicions; and certain tools of the devil confirmed all these slanders, declaring that they had seen black gowns in a dream, now outside the palisade of the village, now on the shore of the lake, who were unfolding certain books, from where issued sparks of fire which spread everywhere, and caused this pestilential disease.

Even in the cabin where our two missionaries retreated, they are looked upon with an evil eye; night and day they are confronted with the rumors which are current about them. Everyone, and especially a Fury who is the mistress of the house, treats them worse and worse, to oblige them to leave as soon as possible; their host is the only one who tolerates them, but he asks them to remain shut in and concealed, because of the dread which he feels of some evil deed. Despite all that, our missionaries pursue their point; Atironta, their host, who loves them, and who, bearing the name of the first Huron Captain who met the French, has also his power, assists them as far as he can to assemble a council of the Elders of the village, at which they can publicly demonstrate their innocence and refute these slanders.

By a happy coincidence, Joseph Chihouatenhoua -- that excellent Christian -- arrives in this same village, to assist our Fathers. The council is held; Father Antoine Daniel refutes the slanderers, and speaks with so much emphasis that not one dares to answer him. Joseph Chihouatenhoua afterward begins to speak, and passes more than two entire hours in speaking on the mysteries of our Faith. Those old Captains are surprised to see a young man speak like a master, in a new language; they can but admire him. They approve the truths of our Faith, all the commandments of God seem reasonable to them, they condemn themselves; and some exclaim that all the earth ought to listen to such great concerns, and speeches of such importance. But, at the end, not one embraces the truths which he acknowledges, not one adopts for himself the advice which he approves.

Still, this assembly and its result, which was favorable to us, appeased their minds somewhat; the grievances which they had against us diminished; they begin to receive our Fathers quite peaceably in most of the cabins, and our Fathers continue to announce the name of God to them. In the single village of saint Jean Baptiste, more than 140 were baptized, most of whom are dead, and 40 little children, whose salvation is beyond doubt.

I hope that after a while, we shall have workmen here who shall know the Algonquin language, and who will be able not only to assist some bands of Algonquins who come to winter each year near our Hurons, but to pass beyond, 500 and 750 miles from here, where the language of the Algonquins is generally understood.

The two villages of saint Joachim and Saint Elizabeth also gave exercise to our evangelistic workers, the disease having prevailed in all places alike. "The greatest difficulty we have," one of our Fathers writes to me, "is not of consuming the poverty of these wretches, but of entering into their minds, which we see possessed by some demon, even to the extent that some, at our approach, sometimes howl like wolves.

THE MISSION SURNAMED "OF THE APOSTLES," TO THE PETUNS.

THE Petuns, who are called "the nation of the Tobacco," from the abundance of that plant there, are distant from the country of the Hurons -- whose language they speak -- about 30 or 37 miles toward the West. These nations formerly waged cruel wars against one another; but they are now on good terms, and have recently renewed their alliance, and made a new confederation against some other peoples, their common enemies.

We have taken this opportunity to announce the gospel to them. This, which we have named the mission of the Apostles, has been the fifth of our missions. The lot for it fell to Father Charles Garnier and to Father Isaac Jogues. Here are the names which they have given to nine villages that they have encountered there: saint Pierre and saint Paul, saint Andre, saint Jacques, saint Thomas, saint Jean, saint Jacques and saint Philippe, saint Barthelemy, saint Matthieu, saint Simon and saint Jude.

Here is what our Fathers write to me of their beginnings in this mission:

"Here we have at last arrived at the farthest and principal village of our district, to which we have given the name of saint Pierre and saint Paul. Not having been able to find any Indian at the village of la Conception to come with us, the roads being then too bad for people who are not seeking God, we were compelled to start alone. About the middle of the journey, not having been able to find a certain detour which would have led us to some cabins which are a little isolated, we were surprised by night, in a fir grove. We were in a damp place, and could not go from it to seek a drier one; we had trouble enough to pick up some pieces of wood to make a little fire, and some dry branches to lie down upon: the snow was threatening to put out our fire, but it suddenly ceased. We spent the night quietly.

"The next morning, we came across some poor cabins in the fields, but they had no corn. Finding company there to come into the country with, we were not willing to lose it, because the roads were difficult on account of the newly-fallen snows, which had obliterated the trails. Accordingly, we set out, and went by many bad roads, at a bad season, to a little village which we named St. Thomas; we made easily 2 miles by the mere light of the snow, and arrived about eight o'clock in the evening, with good appetite, not having eaten all day, save each a morsel of bread.

"This whole country is filled with evil reports about us. The children, seeing us arrive, exclaim that famine and disease are coming; some women flee, others hide their children from us; almost all refuse us the hospitality which they grant even to the most unknown tribes. We have not been able to find a house for Our Lord, not having been able to find any place where we can say Mass. Our host, who is the chief Captain of this country, and who through a natural prudence had appeared quite peaceable, on seeing us pray mornings and evenings on our knees, finally could not refrain, once, from revealing to us what he had on his heart. He begins to speak, but in a council voice, that is, loud and distinct: 'It is now that I fear and speak. What are now these demons but spells to make us die, and finish what the disease has left over, in this cabin? They had told me that these were sorcerers, but I believe it too late. This is a thing unknown -- that persons who come to lodge at one's house pass the night in postures to which our eyes are in no way accustomed.' We could hardly tranquilize this mind again. They treat us ill to oblige us to leave. Our hunger usually attends us from morning until evening. There is hardly any corn in this village, and every day some Attawandarons arrive (they are those of the Neutral nation), bands of men, women, and children, all pale and disfigured, whom famine drives here. Fleeing famine, they here find death.

"The devil continues to be worshiped; even yesterday, in our cabin, they made him a solemn sacrifice. All the people being assembled there, they repeatedly threw tobacco and fat into the fire, making several invocations; and all that for the cure of a wretch whom his private demon afflicts with a certain disease, because he has not obeyed him in the matter of some feasts which he had commanded him.

"Is it a wonder that we are held in abomination at a place where the devils are acknowledged as masters? Our host orders that his door be barricaded every evening, fearing in case they do us some violence by night; for, if they killed us in his house, he would have the reproaches to bear for it, even from those who desire nothing but our death."

Those were only the beginnings of their sufferings: in the other villages, since the rumors were continually increasing, they had more to endure; they had not been two days in a place before people could no longer tolerate them, and it was necessary to change their location. Some Hurons, who went there from time to time to effect some trades, incensed minds against them, and even did their utmost to the end that they be got rid of as soon as possible. At one time a man who awakens with terror in the middle of the night, commands them to go forth from his cabin; again, someone comes from outside, also in the dead of night, to shout at their door that the next morning they shall not appear in the village. As they leave one village, taking the way to some other, they are anticipated, and one goes to give warning to the next villages that they are to refuse them entrance; the Captains come to forbid them to set foot there, and threaten them that their heads would be split if they so much as approached.

Then, one of our missionaries falls sick, the fever seizes him, and some other inconveniences; God must be their physician, their food, and their all on these occasions, since everything fails them there. Hardly is he somewhat relieved from his sickness, when it is necessary to start, as early as three o'clock in the morning, to go to another village 27 or 30 miles from there, where the affairs of God call them. A little bread of the land, a mass of Indian corn meal soaked in water without leaven, which is not worth the bread which in France they make for the dogs, this little food which they carry freezes on the way; and yet they must be content with it, and of necessity make 27 miles without having eaten in the whole day a lump as large as the fist, of this so delicate food. Finally they drag themselves through the snows, and arrive late at the place where they are headed -- on the one hand, covered with sweat, and, on the other, more than half frozen.

While our Missionaries were under these persecutions, Joseph Chihouatenhoua, of whom we often speak, because his fervor and his courage have caused him to take a good share in all our sufferings, -- this good Christian, wishing to be of the group, leaves his wife and his children, and gives over into the hands of God the care of his house at the time when all their village was most afflicted with disease. This poor family was every day expecting the visitation of Our Lord; the poor mother, in particular was in fear for her children, seeing that, her husband being at a distance, she would remain deprived of a strong support, both spiritual and worldly.

One of our Fathers who was there, wishing to console her, said to her that this journey would be brief, twelve or fifteen days at most.

"Alas," she said, "our children will have died in that space of time, without his having learned the news of their illness."

"My wife," answered the husband, "whom do you take me for? I am nothing at all, and what would my presence help here? Should my children be sick, all that I could do would be to feel distressed for them. As for our family, God will take care of it, if he please: and then here are my brothers the Jesuits who remain with you. Even if I were here, the best that I could do would be to follow their advice: keep your mind at rest."

Then he went away, while it was terrible weather; the cold was cracking the trees; a furious wind was blowing in his face. Having joined our missionaries, they begin to scour the hamlets and villages; having arrived at the first one, weary and fatigued, they present themselves to enter a cabin, but the door is shut on them; they apply at another, they receive there a like refusal. Finally, this Christian leads them to some relatives of his, but they are compelled to leave the next day, after having accomplished some baptisms in this village. Having reached another village, the Captain's door is immediately closed to them; this good Christian is again obliged to rely on one of his relatives. This was with reproaches which they administered to him for taking the part of people who were the greatest sorcerers on earth.

In another village, where, some days before our, Fathers had been quite well received, everyone refused them shelter; and yet the night was near, while they did not know where to go, being chilled through with cold, and all wet. A good old man whom they had formerly instructed, approaches them.

"How now," they said to him, "will your door be closed to us also?"

"Come, and be welcome," answered this old man. He was a stranger, from a hostile nation which they call Mascoutens, "Nation of fire," -- who, having been taken captive in his early years, received his life (was adopted), and came to be at home among them. This good man eagerly received the words of salvation; however, as we make no great haste about baptisms, he was put off until another time.

It was in the principal village of saint Pierre and saint Paul, where, having returned to make a second visit, they could find no one who would admit them. The doors are at first closed to them, even by those who at the start had shown some pious affection: they hear nothing but threats and maledictions. The women exclaim aloud, "Where are now those who said that, if these black-robed men returned, they would split their heads?" The hours pass, and the more they appear before the cabins, the more they are refused; the children scream after them, as after sorcerers. Finally, night comes on, and obliges them to leave this village, where not one had been found worthy to receive them; they were not far when an insolent band of young men pursues them, hatchet in hand, to massacre them. The captain of this village had urged them to that at a feast where they were all assembled. I do not know whether it was a good fortune or a bad fortune for us, that these Indians started off a little too late, and could not overtake them.

The next day, the captain of this wretched village came to find our Missionaries, in the village where they had retreated, to make his excuses; but he had much difficulty in clearing himself. Then it was that our Joseph Chihouatenhoua most revealed his courage, and finely criticized this captain, who was astonished that we called the things of the Faith matters of importance. This Christian, then taking up the matter, said to him: "It is you captains, who do not know what are matters of importance; you are the ones who have overturned our country by separating us from the maxims of our ancestors; it is these black gowns here, whom you despise, who know what matters of importance are, and who come to teach us the same. I would have you know that I am the one who everywhere, in derision, is called 'The believer.' They think to curse me, and that is my greatest glory. I am that man; I have such and such relatives in your village; I make profession of following the good instructions which these my teachers give me. We have no sense, as many as we are; our thoughts extend no further than this life." All that this captain could answer was to say, "That is true," and turn the subject of conversation elsewhere.

While the disease was ravaging this country, our Evangelistic workers enjoyed a more robust health than they had ever had in their lives; the disease having ceased, and consequently there being no longer necessity to hurry from village to village, to aid those poor infidels at the hour of death, we saw ourselves caught by the legs, and attacked by scurvy.

Here follows a letter which has come from the Hurons, addressed to Reverend Father Vimont; which deserves to go with the present narrative.

Reverend Father,

I was preparing to write to you for the last time in this current year, by the hand of Joseph Chihouatenhoua, our good Christian: and now the same paper of which he should have been the bearer is used to carry to you the news of his death. Yesterday, toward evening, the second of this month, while he was working in his field to cut down some trees, two Iroquois, enemies of the Hurons, emerged from the neighboring wood, where they lay in ambush, and having rushed upon him, pierced him with a long javelin. Then, having felled him with two blows of a hatchet, they promptly retreated in flight, after having removed his scalp according to their custom, to carry it away in triumph to their country. When it was seen, in his house, that he was late in coming back, they suspected what had happened; having gone to look for him, they found his body outstretched, stone-dead, and covered with his blood. There are indications that they did not take him without resistance; and the elders of the village, after visiting the place, have inferred by the marks of feet round about, and from the trampling of the corn, that he had shown fight, and that the enemies would not have succeeded if they had not had a long javelin with which they reached him.

Earlier, toward noon, having left his cabin with three of his little nieces, to go to his field, he did nothing but instruct them on the way; then having reached the place, and seeing there the fruits of the earth uncommonly flourishing, he had them gather some squashes; he sent them back, all three burdened, to the house, telling them that they were not in a secure place; that he was going into the woods to cut some sticks of Cedar to finish the canoe which was to carry him to Quebec; and that on his return, he would continue to work in his field for the rest of the day. But there it was where death was to find him several hours later.

Jerome Lalemant.

From the Hurons, this 3rd of August, 1640.

YEAR 1641
LETTER FROM FATHER CHARLES GARNIER TO HIS BROTHER. 1641

My Dearest Brother,

To tell you some news of This country, you shall know that we have been thirteen priests of Our Jesuits This year: that is, the Reverend Father Jerome Lallemant, Our superior; Father Brebeuf, Father le Mercier, Father Daniel; Father Raimbault, and Father Claude Pijart, who came from Quebec last year to Instruct some Algonquin and non-Huron Nations in These areas; Father Jogues, Father Le Moyne, Father du Peron, Father Chaumonot, Father Chastelain, Father Pierre Pijart, and myself, who distributed ourselves last winter among six Missions.

Father Brebeuf and Father Chaumonot went to the Neutral Nation, where we had not yet been to carry the Gospel, which is Five or six Days' Journey Distant from Our House; on 4 of which one must sleep in the Field. This nation Includes about 40 villages; our fathers have made the round of about a dozen of these, but with many sufferings and slanders. This Mission has for Patrons the Holy Angels.

Father Daniel and Father le Moyne have Continued the mission which they had Begun last year among the Arendaenhronon, and have also taken charge of the village of St. Joseph, where they have sustained some good Christians who are there. The Reverend Father Lalemant and Father Le Mercier have taken for their portion the mission of la Conception, which takes its name from the village of la Conception, which the Indians call Ossossane, where we formerly had a Cabin; now we have there only a little chapel, where we assemble some good Christians that we have in That village. It is in their Instruction that The Reverend Father Lallement has been occupied This winter, with Father Le Moyne, to their great Consolation.

Father Jogues and Father du Peron have had for their portion the mission of Ste. Marie, which Comprises 5 villages nearby, where they have labored with much difficulty. Father Raimbaut and Father Pierre Pijart, remaining at the house, went every day to See the Nipissings -- This is an Algonquin nation which had Come to spend the winter in This country, 250 feet from Our House. They went there to learn their language, and give them what Instruction they could at This Beginning of their own study of their language; they have taught them to chant some prayers, which the good people have learned Willingly. Some among them bear witness of having some inclination for the faith; the two Fathers have gone with them to their own country, which is Five Days' Journey from here, where they spent the summer in Instructing them. Father Pierre Pijart and I have been sent to the mission of the Apostles; This is in The Petun nation, where I had already spent the preceding winter. We were received ill there the 1st year; in the second, we have been regarded in a tolerably favorable manner; we find some who listen to us.

These Missions are filled with troubles, both in the difficulty of the Roads during the winter, and as regards food, clothing, lodging, the smoke, etc.; but the chief trouble is the Bondage that one is in with reference to saying one's prayers and taking a little rest away from the bustle. We have twice come near dying on the roads: once It was on A frozen lake, where two Indians died from cold on the evening when we passed.

Charles Garnier

From Ste. Marie, of the Hurons, this 23rd of June, 1641.

NEW FRANCE IN THE YEARS 1640 AND 1641 SENT TO THE REVEREND FATHER PROVINCIAL OF THE JESUITS IN THE PROVINCE OF FRANCE. BY FATHER BARTHELEMY VIMONT OF THE JESUITS, SUPERIOR OF THE RESIDENCE OF QUEBEC.

THE RESIDENCE OF NOTRE DAME DE RECOU FRANCE AT QUEBEC, AND THE SEMINARY OF THE URSULINES.

Let us say a few words about the Seminary of the Ursuline Mothers. Two courageous sisters, provided with a suitable endowment to aid in building the House which they are commencing this year at Quebec, would be well received in their Monastery.

There are found in France some persons of merit who provide for the marriage of some Seminarists. They send, for instance, one hundred gold coins to build one of them a little house; and see a household established, with some other help that may be given it, to cultivate a little land for its support. There are four Seminarists, nearly ready to marry.

Besides these permanent Seminarists, we send others who are transient, and clothed in Indian fashion, who remain some time in this little house, so they may be instructed. These young girls having received some good impression in this House, go back afterward to their parents. Although they lack room, they are sure to be often visited by the simple Indian women when goaded by hunger; the Mothers have them pray, speak a good word to them, feed them, and then send them away with this double charity.

Let us say a few words of the little Seminarists. One of our Fathers having gone down to Tadoussac this Spring, the two tallest Seminarists sent letters to him in their own writing, expressing a great satisfaction that he was instructing their countrymen; and on the other hand, a desire for his return. The Father read these two letters in the presence of the Indians, showing them that their children were capable of Massinahigan (writing) as well as ours. They took these letters, turned them on all sides, and looked at them with attention, as if they had been able to read them; they made him read over and over what was written there, and were glad to see that our paper spoke their language, for the children wrote in the Indian tongue.

On the eve of the Assumption of the blessed Virgin, a Father having heard the confession of little Anne Marie Negabamat, this child said to him after absolution: Nousai eapitch ni-wich tissarawi. "My father, I wish to be always a virgin; do not make me leave this House, I wish to live here all my life," Her words touched the Father, as he remembered the opposition that she used to make to him, until he took her once and pretended to throw her into the river, seeing that she was not willing to obey her parents, who implored her to remain with these good Sisters.

Good Madame de la Pelterie, who laid the foundation of this little Seminary, does not cease to visit these poor people; she speaks to them with her eyes not being able to speak to them in their language.

THE RESIDENCE OF SAINT JOSEPH.

THE number of Christians is increasing every day.

Some Kichesipirini Algonquins, and of other places, having come down to saint Joseph, the Christians, seeing that the new guests had nothing for dinner, made a collection among themselves, and furnished as many as twelve hundred smoked eels, divided into twelve large packages. Having then sent for four of the chiefs of the recently arrived Indians, they put this gift into their hands, to be distributed to all those who were in need.

This charity did not prevent these new guests from having several quarrels with the Christians of saint Joseph, and almost always on account of Religion. The few following words reveal the great vanity of the Captain of these Kichesipirini Algonquins. Having come to see us during the stay that he made at St. Joseph, he held this conversation with us: "I had some intention of spending the winter here, but neither your Captain loves me nor do you. Perhaps you do not know that I have ruled from my youth, that I was born to rule. As soon as I open my mouth, everyone listens to me; it is also true that I bear up and maintain the whole country during the life of my grandchildren and my nephews," -- it is what he calls his people. "Even the Hurons give ear to me, and I command among them; I rule them, as if I were Captain. I say not a word over there, -- the rest speak; but there is nothing done except what I have in my mind. I am like a tree, men are the branches to which I give vigor." To see a man wholly nude, who has neither covering for the feet, nor other raiment than a wretched bit of pelt, which screens only the half of his body; ill-favored by nature, having only half his eyes, for he is blind in one, and dried-up like an old tree without leaves, to see a skeleton, or rather a ragamuffin, bear himself like a President, and speak like a King, is to see arrogance and pride under rags.

This king and part of his people being in this mood, soon came to disputing with our Christians. They taunted them, saying that faith and prayer made men die; that since some had been baptized, maladies had prevailed among them, and that, when they were taught another belief than that of their fathers, death exterminated them; that a part of those who have become Christians are cooperating with the French to ruin the whole country of the Indians.

Meanwhile, a Christian having spoken boldly, the others came to inform us of it, saying that he provoked the Unbelievers too much; we sent for him that we might recommend to him mildness and discretion. Some months after, the same Christian -- having learned that he had irritated some of them, and that they were plotting his death, -- went to the Governor to ask him about a case of conscience; for, as it was a question of death, and knowing well that the Jesuits do not carry arms, he imagined that the subject belonged to him who commands soldiers, and has a military profession, to answer his question satisfactorily. Being in the Governor's presence, he asked how he ought to comport himself in case anyone attacked him and wished to put him to death: "Since I am a Christian," said he, "I wish to do all that a good Christian should do; if he must defend himself, I will defend myself; if he must lay down arms, I will lay them down." Sir Charles de Montmagny asked him if he had any enemies, and why he made this inquiry. "I am the first of my nation," he answered, "to become a Christian; those of my country, seeing that I have left their group, believe that the prayers which I have embraced cause the great diseases that have almost exterminated them; this is why they hate me to death."

THE HOSPITAL.

Our Lord, who has given to Duchess d'Aiguillon the thought of founding a House of Mercy at this end of the World, also suggested to her the place where it ought to be built. These good people were so overjoyed when they knew the day the Nuns were to come into their new House that the chief men among them leaped immediately into their canoes to go and bring them. They took our Reverend Father Superior, and some of our other Fathers, in one of their little boats, and these good Sisters in another, and soon brought them to the place.

They entered into this new House on the first of December, last year. If they had not been vigorously assisted, this House, in so destitute a country, would have dragged on for a much longer time; it is not yet finished. It is useless to count one's principal and income; one always finds himself short in these undertakings, especially in a country where everything is twice as expensive as in France, and where the few Workmen who are to be found do not hire themselves for a price in silver, but for loads of gold.

First, these good Sisters gather in all the abandoned Indians. Not many days ago, Father de Quen wrote in these terms to the Reverend Father Superior: "I sent to the Hospital that good old man, Adam, the most aged of the Indians. I rescued him from the death which these Indians intended to cause him by a rope, to rid themselves of a burden that oppressed them. I asked our Frenchmen who were going down there to take him in their barque: I think that the Mothers will receive him willingly; they have already fed and aided him, during all of last winter. This worthy man has no other malady than what he began to contract more than a hundred years ago."

Secondly, all sick persons, both French and Indian, are welcome in this House, and the only regret of the Mothers in the discharge of their duties is their powerlessness to relieve them with the same ministrations that they would have in France, the country being still wholly new, bare, and destitute of the wealth with which Europe overflows.

In the third place, as soon as an Indian feels ill, he goes to the Hospital to be purged and bled; some of them go to ask for medicine, which they take in their own cabins. The Mothers have treated more than one hundred and fifty of them this year.

In the fourth place, this House is not only a refuge for the sick, but also for the needy poor. When these good Mothers see that famine oppresses these poor people, they provide food for the poorest, and make them come into the sick Ward.

In the fifth place, as Saint Joseph is about 4 miles away from Quebec, where the Ursuline Mothers have made their retreat, to retain and instruct their little Seminarists, who would be less yielding and more inconstant if with their relatives, -- the little Indians, who would not be able to go so far to those good Mothers, meet together at the house of the Hospital Sisters, to be instructed there.

When any of these good people has been cured by a remedy, all the other sick ask for a similar one, although their disorders may be quite different. A poor woman having gone to the Hospital, with two of her children, of whom one was sick, two medicines were ordered, one for the child, and the other for the mother; in the morning the two cups were offered to the mother. As it is the custom among these people to share with each other what they eat, or what they drink, this good creature took her daughter's potion in her hand, first tasted it herself, then gave it to her two children to drink, one after the other; having emptied the first cup, she took the second, and distributed it in like manner, each one drinking in turn. A fine way of taking medicine!

THE RESIDENCE OF LA CONCEPTION AT THE THREE RIVERS.

There has occurred at the Church of Three Rivers, a gathering of different Nations, who have given exercise to our Fathers. They have seen there Kichesipirini Algonquins, those of the Weskarini Algonquin nation, of the Atikamekw, of the Innu, of the Oukotoemis, of the Iroquet Algonquins, and many others, in peace, in war, and in little jealousies, one toward another; so that the bad harmed the good, and the Demons revived superstitions that are no longer seen at Saint Joseph, and which seemed to be extinguished at Three Rivers.

Let us listen to what Father Jacques Buteux and Father Jean de Quen write of this:

"The Christians of Saint Joseph who have come up here are doing well. The fewer of them that can come, for now, the better it will be for them; for the Indians recently arrived from lands of diverse countries, not having yet had any instruction, resuscitate the old superstitions; they make the drums rattle, of which there was almost no longer remembrance; they revive the belief in dreams that had been almost wholly forgotten. Those who have come from places nearer to the Hurons have brought I do not know what dance or diabolical superstition, which has given us much trouble. Pride is reigning here, and the famine which is pinching these poor wretches will not succeed in bringing it down. The fear that they have of their enemies, prevents their going to the hunt so that their lives may be sustained. Every day and every night they have visions; they see, so they say, the Iroquois behind their corn, they see them in the woods; they see canoes floating, they see them lying still; they see those that pursue them; they observe attentively the tracks of their enemies on the sand; they identify the place where they have slept, the trees from which they have gathered fruit, they even hear them yelling in the depth of the forest; they give a thousand false alarms to our Frenchmen.

Among their superstitions, they had begun one, brought from the upper countries, which was to last three nights, during which the Indians run through the cabins with the shrieks and yells of Demons. The finest act of this tragi-comedy consists in this point, the girls and women begin to dance, and some men take the trickster or Sorcerer under the arms, and make him walk over the glowing coals without being burned.

Father Buteux, having secretly had notice of the time when this diabolical farce was to be played for the healing of a sick woman, went to the cabins about ten o'clock at night, accompanied by Father Poncet; and protesting as strongly as he could against these insolencies, confronted the Captain of the Kichesipirini Algonquins, who alone could check these disorders, as being the chief author and promoter of them. This man, naturally colder than ice, became excited, and reproached the Father, saying to him that Baptism and prayers made the Indians die; the Father replied to him that their sins and sorceries were the cause of their death. At this clamor, the Indians ran hurriedly from all sides, and alarm was manifest in their camp; the Christians said nothing, being few in number, but the Pagans yelled at the top of their voices; I would be too diffuse in relating all that took place then. This Captain, carried away with anger, threw burning cinders at the eyes of the Father, and took a rope as if he intended to strangle him, threatening to kill him. The Father coolly presented his neck, but this Barbarian proceeded no further. At last some Indians asked the Fathers to withdraw, which they did; and this diabolical superstition was stopped for that time."

The French, having learned of the affront that had been made to the Father, were troubled. Sir de Chanflour, the commandant at Three Rivers, sent for this Captain to obtain satisfaction, despite the request the Father made him to cast all this into oblivion. As this Indian was subtle and crafty, he perceived his defeat; he admitted that he had thrown cinders at the Father, and that he was ready to receive the same, in reparation for his fault: "But as for the rope which I took in my hand," said he, "it was never in my mind to bind the Father, much less to strangle him. But, when he reproached me with making the Indians die by my charms, and I, in my anger, reproached him with making them die by prayers, I took a noose, to show him that if we both spoke truly, we both merited death: to have made an attempt upon his life, that never entered my head." The catastrophe of this tragedy was that these fine Physicians were unable to cure their patient.

The Church, which is beginning to grow in this Residence, was composed of eighty Neophytes in the month of January.

What I am going to say of the Atikamekw concerns this Residence, because the Fathers who are here instruct them, but seldom, for they make their appearance only like flashes of lightning. The Indians of this country call them Atikamekw, from the word "Attikamegou," which means a certain white fish. I have not seen in France any like this; it has a good flavor, and perhaps it was through finding an abundance of it, in the country of these good people, that they were given the name of the fish.

They dwell in the lands to the North of Three Rivers; they have dealings with other Nations still more distant from our settlements; they come down by the river which we call in the Indian tongue, "Metaberoutin," and in the French, "Three Rivers," to trade at the warehouse of the Company of New France. During the stay which they make there, our Fathers who are at the Residence of la Conception, at Three Rivers, carry on a different trade with them, they promise them an Eternity of glory for an obedience of short duration. These good people had promised that they would come nearer to us to be instructed; but the fear of the Iroquois, the common enemy of all the Indians who have relations with the French, has made them abandon this idea; so much so that, having come down to Three Rivers this Spring, this is what they said to Father Jacques Buteux: "We promised you last year," said their Captain, "that we would come and dwell a day's journey from your Settlement, as much to learn the way to heaven as to cultivate the land. We had a meeting concerning this subject in our country, and everyone approved of this plan; but the boasts of the Iroquois made us suspend its execution. We are not men of war; we handle the paddle better than the javelin; we love peace; that is why we keep as far as possible from occasions for fighting. If we could overcome these people who wish to massacre us, we would soon be near you, for we have a great desire to be instructed." In fact, these good people are more often with us than at the warehouse where they buy their provisions.

SOME BAPTISMS AT THE RESIDENCE OF LA CONCEPTION AT THE THREE RIVERS.

The Captain of the Kichesipirini Algonquins, who strikes only unfairly and with underhanded thrusts, wishing to disparage baptism and to show that it belonged only to old women and children to be baptized, cried out among the cabins: "Go, good old women, go; and you, little children, who have no way of finding food, go to the black Robes and be baptized, so that you may not die from hunger; let those who resemble you, imitate you." Father de Quen, seeing that this outcry was made in contempt of the faith, and to alienate the Indians from Baptism, paid off this wretched one-eyed man in his own coin; for, on going the next day to summon the Christians to Mass, he added these words in a loud voice: "Men and women who are not baptized, go to Tessouat" -- that is the name of the one-eyed man; -- "he will give you food; it is he who kills beavers, and knows well how to catch the moose."

This man, proud to the last degree, believing himself insulted, went raging with anger to Sir Nicolet and to Father Buteux, and complained of the affront that he had received; but he was asked if, when he had sent away the old women and children to the Fathers to be baptized so they might have food, he intended to set at nothing prayers and Baptism; he said, "No, indeed." They replied to him that neither did Father de Quen intend to offend him in sending the men and women to him to be helped, as he was their Captain. This clever man, seeing well that he should lose his case if he went on, preferred silence to further argument.

THE CAPTURE OF TWO FRENCHMEN WHO WERE TAKEN TO THE COUNTRY OF THE IROQUOIS, AND THEIR RETURN TO THE THREE RIVERS.

UNDER the name of Iroquois we include six Nations, who are enemies of the Hurons, of the Algonquins, of the Innu, and now of the French. We have these people at the South, stretching from the coast of Acadia; they extend from Virginia Westward into the interior. As their Villages are distant from one another, there is only the one Nation, the Mohawks, which has declared itself the enemy of the French; this nation has three well-populated Villages, situated rather near each other, on three little mountains; these Nations lend a hand to one another in their wars, as do those who have some communication with the French.

Several years ago, the Mohawks killed a Frenchman in their own country, contrary to the common law of peoples, for he had been sent with some Indians to negotiate a peace with them. On the second day of June, 1633, they treacherously killed three other Frenchmen, near the stream which we call Three Rivers. Since that time, they have massacred many Hurons and Algonquins: they have reached such a degree of insolence that we must see the country lost or bring to it a prompt and effective remedy. If the French were gathered near one another, it would be easy for them to master these Indians; but being dispersed, and gliding at all hours over the great river in sailboats, or in canoes, they can be easily surprised by these traitors who hunt men as we do wild beasts, who can injure and scarcely be injured, -- for when they are discovered, they do not ordinarily await attack, but are beyond the reach of your arms before you are in readiness to discharge them.

Toward the end of Autumn about ninety men set out from their country; they scattered themselves by the little streams and by the rivers, where they know that our Indian allies go in search of beavers. About thirty of them, having found their prey above Montreal, carried it away to their own country; the others came to prowl around the Settlement of Three Rivers.

Two young Frenchmen, -- one an Interpreter of the Algonquin Tongue for the Company of New France, named Francois Marguerie; the other called Thomas Godefroy, who is brother to a worthy inhabitant of the country, -- having gone on a hunting trip, were discovered by these Indians, who, following the track of their snowshoes imprinted on the snow, approached them with stealthy steps during the night, and suddenly attempting to spring upon them, uttered frightful shrieks and howls. One of the two Frenchmen had time to present his musket to the first one who attempted to seize him; but by a providence of our Lord, it misfired. If it had fired, and he had killed this Indian, both of them would have lost their lives; he came off with only the stroke of a javelin which the enemy thrust into his thigh. The other Frenchman, having promptly risen at the noise, seized his sword; an Iroquois shot an arrow at him, which passed under his arm. Another, intending to approach him, made a false step and fell into the snow; immediately the Frenchman presented his naked sword at his throat; the Iroquois saw him do this without stirring, -- not one made a show of hindering him, or of killing him, for fear he might stab his enemy whom he had at his feet.

Finally, this young man, seeing that he would be massacred in a moment if he went further, threw down his sword and surrendered, so he might have leisure to examine his conscience -- preferring to be burned, roasted, and eaten, to dying in this headlong haste without thinking upon God. See these two poor victims in the hands of these Tigers; they bind them, pinion them, and take them away into their own country with shrieks and yells, or rather with the howling of wolves. Still, having recognized that they were Frenchmen, they did not treat them as they do the Indians, but used greater gentleness; for they neither tore off their finger-nails, nor mutilated them in any part of their bodies.

As they did not return on the day appointed, their friends began to suspect that some misfortune had happened to them; they were awaited some time longer, but as they did not appear, the French went to seek them in the place where they said they were going to hunt; they found a pole fixed in the snow, to which was attached a wretched paper, scribbled upon with a coal; they took it, read it, and found these words written: "The Iroquois have captured us: go into the woods." They entered the woods, and found a large tree from which the bark had recently been removed, and on which were written these words with charcoal: "The Iroquois have captured us tonight; they have not yet done us any harm, -- they are taking us away to their own country;" there were some other words which could not be read. This happened about the twentieth of February. This blow somewhat bewildered our Frenchmen; all possible ways were sought to deliver them, but none seemed feasible. Our neighboring Indians told us that it was all over with them, that they had been boiled or roasted, and eaten; but God restored them to us, and, from their own lips, we learned what follows:

"We arrived at the Village of those who captured us, after a journey of seventeen or eighteen days. At the report of our arrival, everyone ran to see us, -- not only the neighboring Villages, but also the other Nations wished to have the satisfaction of seeing the captive Frenchmen; they made us stand up at all hours, so they could look us over from head to foot. Some derided us, others threatened to burn us, others had compassion on us; some Iroquois who had been prisoners at Quebec, and at Three Rivers, and who had been favorably treated by the French, looked kindly on us, and told us that we should not die. One among them, to whom Francois Marguerie had been kind, and whom our Fathers had aided in his necessity, said aloud that the Frenchmen were good, and must not be put to death."

These young men had every reason for fear, seeing themselves in the midst of barbarism and of cruelty, without help from any creature. The question was of nothing less than fire, and of the fury and teeth of these Indians, who practice strange tortures on their prisoners. Some Indians of the upper Nations, not wishing to irritate the French, made presents that these two poor captives might be set free. Finally a council was held in the country, and they concluded to negotiate peace with the French; that being done, they promised the prisoners that in the Spring they should be taken back to Three Rivers.

Another time several of these Indians invited one of their prisoners to sing after the French fashion. "Then," answered he, "be respectful; for the God of Heaven and of earth, whom we honor by our voices and by our Hymns, could punish you severely, if you should begin any scornful actions;" they all promised not to laugh, and to conduct themselves discreetly. The Frenchmen intoned the Ave maris stella, to which they listened, their heads being bowed with much modesty and respect; they declared afterward that the song had pleased them. The blessed Virgin who caused that Hymn to be sung every day at Quebec for the deliverance of the prisoners, foresaw from that time their liberty, and perhaps also asked from her son the conversion of these tribes, who will soon hear the clarion of the Gospel, if old France love the New, as an elder sister should love the Younger.

These two poor Frenchmen being distressed by the severity of the cold, -- for, partly through force, and partly out of good will, they had given the best of their clothing to these Indians, -- one of them, having a knowledge of the English language, wrote to the Hollanders who have seized a part of Acadia, which belongs to the King, asking them to have pity upon their poverty; he used a beaver skin for paper, a little stick for a pen, and some rust or soot sticking to the bottom of a kettle, for ink. The Indian to whom the beaver belonged carrying it to the Dutch, they understood this writing, and, touched with compassion, they sent to these two poor prisoners a couple of shirts, two blankets, some provisions, an inkstand, some paper, and a short letter. The Indian delivered all faithfully except the letter, saying that the writing of the French was good, but that of the Hollanders was worth nothing. Francois Marguerie, having paper, wrote the whole history of their capture; and as they feared the Hollanders might not understand the French language, he inscribed his letter in French, and in Latin as he was able, and in English. He believed that it was carried; but he saw no reply, -- the Iroquois doubtless were not willing to deliver one. Neither would they ever permit them to visit the Dutch. "Those people," said they to them, "are cruel, -- they will put us into irons, they will plunder our Countrymen, if they come into these areas to liberate you." The Frenchmen believed nothing of all this; besides, they did not wish to escape from the hands of these Indians, so, being with them, they might better incline them to an advantageous peace.

Toward the end of April, the decision to seek this peace with the French having been made, about five hundred Iroquois set out from their country, well armed, taking with them the two Frenchmen. Some went back, others broke from the ranks in great numbers to go and meet the Hurons and the Algonquins, with the plan of pillaging, killing, and massacring all those whom they could surprise; the remainder went directly to Three Rivers. On the fifth of June, at daybreak, twenty canoes appeared below the habitation of the French, all laden with well-armed men; others appeared in the middle of the river, equipped in like manner; immediately there was an alarm among the French, and among the Algonquins who dwell near us; these last cried out that all was over with their people who had gone to hunt beavers. At that moment, an Algonquin canoe, going out of the mouth of the stream which we call the Three Rivers, was taken by its enemies in the sight of the French and of the Indians, without anyone being able to render it assistance. While we were in this alarm, another canoe appeared, guided by a single man, coming out from the quarter of the enemy and advancing toward the fort of the French; this canoe carried a little flag, as a sign of peace. We cast our eyes upon the pilot; in dress he appeared to be an Indian, but by the voice we recognized that it was Francois Marguerie, one of the two prisoners.

Having set foot on land, he was brought to the fort, so he might pay his respects to Sir de Chanflour, who commands there. Everyone ran, each one embraced him, -- he was looked upon as a man raised from the dead, and as a victim escaped from the knife that was ready to sacrifice him, and from the fire that was ready to consume him; they made him abandon his rags, and re-clothed him like a Frenchman. All were full of joy, and treated him affectionately, and everyone became silent to listen to him. He said that the Iroquois, desiring the alliance of the French, had treated them mildly; that they had set out from the country five hundred in number, of whom three hundred and fifty were prowling along the river, in sight of the fort; that they had appointed him to speak concerning peace with the French, but not with the Indians, -- the Algonquins and the Innu, whom they hate, and whom they wish to exterminate entirely.

"They have," said he, "thirty-six musketeers, as skillful as the French, -- the remainder are very well armed in Indian fashion; they are abundantly furnished with gunpowder, with lead, with bows, arrows, and javelins, and with provisions. They are hoping that a present will be given them of thirty good muskets; they are resolute people, whom you must trust only with reserve, since an Algonquin woman, -- who has lived in their country, and from whom these Indians concealed little, -- warned us in secret that these people wished to use our bodies as bait, so they might take all the Indians, our confederates, ruin the whole country, and make themselves absolute masters of the great River. I am commissioned," said he, "to return without delay; they have retained my companion as hostage, and I have given them my word that I will see them again as soon as possible."

Sir de Chanflour gave as answer, that this matter being of great importance, it was necessary that the great Captain of the French should be notified of it, -- that they did not doubt he would approve of the pursuit of peace, that they were going to send Messengers to him, and that he would shortly be at the Three Rivers. Our prisoner, and a Frenchman who accompanied him, reembarked with this answer, and a quantity of provisions and little presents, to win these Indians. They approved our procedure, but they did not neglect to fortify themselves well while awaiting the coming of Onontio, -- it is what they call the Governor. They again sent back Francois Marguerie and Thomas Godefroy, his fellow captive, imploring the Captain of Three Rivers to come and parley with them while awaiting the arrival of the great Captain.

Father Paul Ragueneau and Sir Nicolet, -- both well versed in the Huron Language, which is related to the Iroquois Language, -- went to them instead of the Captain, who, with reason, was unwilling to leave his fort. Having arrived at the rendezvous of these Indians, they stated to them that the French had had great satisfaction in seeing their Countrymen: that they all took pleasure in the news of peace; and that they had been sent to learn what was desired from the Captain whom they had asked to come. They replied that they wished to talk, -- that is, that they wished to make presents, -- not only about restoring our prisoners, but about inviting us to make a Settlement near their country, to which all the Iroquois Nations could come for their trade. They were answered that they would be willingly heard, but that we were awaiting the great Captain, who had been informed of all that had occurred. They made long speeches upon the condition of their country, and upon the desire that all the Iroquois Nations had to see themselves allied with the French; and as evidence of their sentiments, they made a little present beforehand, while awaiting the coming of Onontio.

The next day, three hostile canoes moved up and down before the fort, within hearing; one of the oldest men belonging to this squadron cried with a loud voice, speaking to the Indians: "Listen to me! I come to negotiate for peace with all the Nations of these parts, with the Innu, with the Algonquins, with the Hurons; the land shall be beautiful, the river shall have no more waves, one may go everywhere without fear." An Algonquin Captain, perceiving the mischievousness of this fraudster, answered in a louder voice, and in a harsh tone: "I represent, in their absence, all the Nations you have named; and I tell you, in their name, that you are a liar. If you came to negotiate for peace, you would deliver at least one of our prisoners, according to our custom, and you would commit no act of hostility; but every day you are on the watch to surprise us, and you massacre all whom you can entrap." This being said, each one retired to his own quarters. Meanwhile, the canoe that had been sent to Quebec made all possible haste.

The Governor, having received the news, armed, in a moment, a barque and four sailboats, took with him Father Vimont, our Superior, and voyaged against winds and against tides; but seeing that the barque did not advance, he took the lead with his sailboats, the sailors and soldiers rowing with all their might. At length, they arrived at Three Rivers, sooner than they had hoped. As soon as the enemy perceived them, they withdrew into their stronghold; they were, however, so enraged against the Algonquins that, an hour before the Governor went to them, they fell upon an Algonquin canoe, managed by two men and one woman; the woman was killed, one of the men was taken prisoner, and the other escaped. On the preceding day, Anerawi, a war Captain of the upper Algonquins, had escaped from their hands, having seen them far off at the mouth of the large Lake near Three Rivers, all the avenues of which they guarded with a multitude of their canoes.

THE DELIVERANCE OF THE FRENCH PRISONERS AND THE PARLEY CONCERNING PEACE WITH THE IROQUOIS.

Sir Charles de Montmagny, having learned from the French prisoners, the mood of these Indians, and having discovered their malice by their actions, conducted himself with great prudence and tact. He cast anchor before their fort, within musket range; these Barbarians made, adroitly, a salute of thirty-six or forty shots from their muskets. That being done, two canoes came from the Iroquois to meet him, on board of which were put Father Ragueneau and Sir Nicolet, so they could go and speak for the two prisoners, withdraw them from their hands, and hear the propositions for the peace which they came to seek. All four then entered the stronghold or fort of the Iroquois, whom they found seated in a circle, in good order, without tumult and without noise. They had the two negotiators of the peace sit upon a shield, and the two prisoners on the ground, binding these as a matter of form, to show that they were still captives.

Then, one of the Captains, named Onagan, arose, took the Sun as a witness of the sincerity of his proceeding, and then spoke in these terms:

"These two young men whom you see, are Iroquois, they are no longer Frenchmen, the right of war has made them ours; formerly the mere name of Frenchmen struck terror to our hearts, their look appalled us, and we fled from them as from Demons, whom one does not dare to approach; but at last, we have learned to change Frenchmen into Iroquois. These two whom you see before your eyes were taken this winter by a squad of our young men. Finding themselves in our hands, they feared in case they should be ill treated; but they were told that the Iroquois were seeking the alliance of the French, "and that no one would harm them. 'If that be so,' said they, 'let one of us return to the French, to inform them of your good intentions, and let the other go away into your country.' We replied that it would be more to the purpose if both of them should come to comfort all the Iroquois Nations by their presence, since these all had affection for the French. Indeed, the more distant tribes made us presents; to save their lives. Their attractions were not needed to inspire in us love and affection towards you, our hearts were already wholly inclined to that; you will learn from them that they have been treated as friends, and not as slaves. As soon as Spring appeared, we set out upon our way to bring them back; they are still Iroquois, but immediately they will be French; let us rather say that they will be French and Iroquois at the same time, for we shall be only one people."

Saying that, he took the hands of Father Ragueneau, and of Sir Nicolet, the delegates to negotiate peace, then touching them on the face and on the chin, he said to them: "Not only shall our customs be your customs, but we shall be so closely united that our chins shall be reclothed with hair, and with beards like yours." After some other ceremonies, he approached the captives, broke their bonds, and tossed these over the palisades of their fort, exclaiming:

"Let the river carry these cords so far away that there may never be a remembrance of them; these young men are no longer captives, -- their bands are broken, they are now wholly yours." Then taking a wampum collar, he presented it to the Negotiators of the peace with these words: "Keep forever this collar, as a sign of their full liberty." Then causing two packages of beaver skins to be brought, "I do not wish," said he, "to restore you wholly destitute to your brothers; here is something to make for each of them a beautiful robe." He made then a number of presents, according to the custom of the country, in which the term "present" is called "the word," to make clear that it is the present which speaks more forcibly than the lips; he made four of these in the name of the four Iroquois Nations, as a sign that they desired our alliance. Lifting up a beaver robe, "See," said he, "the standard that you shall plant upon your fort, when you shall see our canoes appear upon this great river; and when we see this signal of your friendship, we shall land with confidence at your ports."

Taking another wampum collar, he put it on the ground in the form of a circle; "See," said he, "the house that we shall have at Three Rivers, when we come there to trade with you; we shall smoke there without fear, since we shall have Onontio for a brother."

The peace Deputies expressed to these Indians a great satisfaction in all that had taken place in this council; they added that they were going to make a full report of the whole to the Governor, who would not be able to speak to them until the following day, because it was already late; they carried away their presents, and took back the two liberated prisoners. As they were going away, this Captain called to them: "Say to Onontio that we ask him to conceal the hatchets of the Innu and of the Algonquins under his robe, while we are negotiating peace." They promised, on their part, that they would chase no Algonquin canoe, and that they would set no ambush for them; but their promise was only deceit, for the Frenchmen had hardly withdrawn to the port of Three Rivers before they pursued four Algonquin canoes, which were returning from hunting well laden with provisions and with pelts; the men were scarcely able to escape, all their baggage was plundered, and a poor woman, burdened with her child, was taken.

Sir Charles de Montmagny judged from the report that had been made to him, and from the behavior that he had observed in this crafty and treacherous enemy, that the fear of the French arms made them desire peace with us so they might be able to massacre with more liberty, even before our eyes, the tribes which are our confederates; still, as he is prudent and skillful, he sought means of persuading these Indians to enter into a firm, universal peace with all the Nations which are allied to us. The next day, the feast of Saint Barnabas, these Indians, who did not dare to approach the fort, for fear of the Algonquins, awaited with impatience the Governor; but the winds and the rain detained him, so that it was not until the following day that he set out in his sailboats, laden with seventy men, well armed. He came to anchor before their fort; but the bad faith of these Indians making them guilty, aroused in them distrust, based upon a day's delay which was caused by the bad weather, and upon the acts of hostility which they had committed, suspecting with reason that we had knowledge of them. We expected that they would come for the Deputies, to the peace, as they had already done, but their mistrust hindered them. They pushed an empty canoe towards our sailboats, inviting the Governor, Father Ragueneau, and Sir Nicolet to embark and come to them; their plan was to slay them, as a young Algonquin who had escaped from their hands told us afterward.

This wholly brutish proceeding caused us to be more than ever on our guard. The Captains were invited to come and listen to our words, as we had listened to theirs; no news from that! They were urged to send some Hurons, those who had been naturalized among them, and had become Iroquois; to this they raised great objections. At last, two approached our sailboats in a canoe; they looked around on all sides, to see if some Algonquin might not be concealed among us; but not perceiving any, three Iroquois Captains embarked in another canoe; when they had approached within pistol-shot, they invited "Onontio", that is, our Governor, to speak, -- to offer his presents.

I shall not relate the speech he made to them by his interpreter; it will suffice to say a few words of how he offered his presents to them, in compliance with the code of these peoples; his gifts surpassed by far those of the Indians.

He made one as thanks for the good cheer that had been given to our Frenchmen in their country, -- he offered blankets, for the mats that had been spread under them during the nights; he gave hatchets, for the wood that had been cut to warm them in the time of winter; robes or hoods, for having reclothed them; knives, in the place of those that had been used in cutting off the heads of deer, of which they had made them feasts. Some other presents were for the Nations who sought our alliance, and others still, as a sign that they should see upon our bastions the standards of peace, and that they should find a house of security near us.

All these gifts were accepted by these Indians -- with great evidences of affection; but as they saw no muskets, for which they have a strange longing, they said we had not spoken of breaking the bonds of our captives whom they had set free. Then, still other presents were made to them for having struck off these bonds; but as we did not mention firearms, which was the most ardent of their wishes, that incited them to speak again. They then presented a wampum collar as an invitation to us to make a settlement in their country; they gave a second one to serve as a conveyance, or as oars to our barques, so we could ascend there; they offered a third one in the name of the Iroquois youth, so their uncle Onontio, the great Captain of the French, might present to them some muskets; they brought forward a fourth one as a pledge of the peace which they wished to make with the Innu, with the Algonquins, and with the Hurons, our allies. They produced some beaver skins as security that, on returning to their Villages, they would call a general assembly of the most distinguished persons of all the Iroquois Nations to announce everywhere the generosity of the French; they made a last present to declare that they would give a kick to the Dutch, with whom they no longer wished to have any communication, they said.

Observe the procedure of these people and no longer tell me that the Indians are brute beasts; certainly they do not lack good training. Their plan was to make a patched-up peace with us, so as to be free from the dread they have of our arms, and to massacre, without fear, our confederates. Could they more artfully persuade us to give them arms? could they more ingeniously insinuate themselves into our friendship, than by restoring to us our prisoners and offering to us gifts, than by indicating their willingness to be on good terms with those whom we protect, than by inviting us into their country, assuring us that they prefer us to the Dutch?

our Governor, more discreet and prudent than these simple people are crafty, asked the advice of the Reverend Father Vimont, and of Father Ragueneau, on the present occasion; but, they having excused themselves from speaking upon a matter of war, he concluded, after having gathered the opinions of the leading men who accompanied him, that he should not make peace with these people to the exclusion of our confederates, -- otherwise, we might enter into a more dangerous war than what we wished to avoid; for if these peoples, with whom we live day by day, and who surround us on all sides, attacked us, as they might do should we abandon them, they would give us much more trouble than the Iroquois. Besides, if the Iroquois had free access to our ports, the trade of the Hurons, of the Algonquins, and of the other tribes who come to the warehouses of the Company of New France, would be entirely stopped; I say still more, -- that from this moment the trade is going to be ruined unless the inroads of these Indians be prevented.

Sir Charles de Montmagny, perceiving the force of these reasons, judged that it would be necessary to make the Iroquois speak plainly; he gave notice to them that, if they wished a universal peace, it would be granted to them with great satisfaction by the French, and by their confederates; and that, if the present which they had made to the Algonquins for the purpose of entering into a peace with them were without pretense, they would immediately deliver one of the prisoners they had recently seized, such being the custom of friendly and allied nations. They replied that on the following day they would cross the great river, to come and treat of this affair with the Algonquins in our fort, and that we should withdraw. The Governor, seeing well that their plan was to escape in the obscurity of the night, replied that he desired to take back with him an Algonquin captive to restore him to his allied brothers, as an evidence of the peace which they wished to conclude. They pretended a willingness to give up one; but they finally replied that we should retire, and that, this affair being important, they would confer upon it among themselves during the night. The Governor had them told that they might treat of it at their pleasure, but that he would not withdraw until he had seen the course of their resolution.

While they were parleying, seven Algonquin canoes, -- ignorant of the coming of the enemy, and filled with men, and game, and beavers, -- appeared above on the great river. The young Iroquois warriors, having perceived them, with difficulty restrained themselves, -- their hands itched, as one says; but the presence of our armed sailboats and of the barque -- which, not having yet been able to ascend, began to appear drawing toward us with its sails unfurled -- stopped them, and caused them to retire into their fort with some talk of setting at liberty an Algonquin captive.

The execution of their promises was awaited; a full half-hour slipped by in profound silence; then suddenly was heard so horrible an uproar and clashing of hatchets, a fall and wreck of so many trees, that it seemed as if the whole forest were being overthrown; and then we were more than ever aware of their mischievousness. The Governor, wishing to put them completely in the wrong before coming to hostilities, decided to spend the night on the water with his barque and sailboats, to prevent their flight, and to ask them once more their opinions concerning peace.

THE WAR WITH THE IROQUOIS.

THE next morning, Sir Charles de Montmagny had a canoe equipped with a flag, to invite the Captains to a parley; they despised the canoe, the flag, and the herald. They attacked us with jeers and barbaric yells; they reproached us that Onontio had not given them muskets to eat -- this is their way of speaking, to say that he did not make them a present of these; they erected above their fort, as a flag denoting war, a scalp which they had taken from some Algonquin; they shot arrows at our sailboats.

All these acts of insolence made the Governor resolve to give them muskets to eat, but not in the way that they asked: he ordered to be discharged upon their fort the brass cannons of the barque, the swivel guns of the sailboats, and all the musketry; all this was done by the French with such enthusiasm, and so repeatedly, that although the enemy, by a stratagem that would not be expected from the Indians, put themselves in safety, they still took such fright that as soon as they were shielded by the darkness of the night, they carried their canoes through the woods, so they could embark a half mile farther above us and escape from our hands.

When this was discovered, we decided to pursue them; the sailboats were rowed with all force, but the adverse wind and tide hindered them. Some Algonquin canoes attempted to give them chase; but, as they were few in number compared with the Iroquois, the Governor called them back. A young Algonquin, who had been for two years among the Iroquois, and who escaped in this retreat, reported to us that these Indians were afraid of our cannon, and that if we had been able to approach them, they would have been defeated, -- that is, we should have put them to flight in the woods; for, as to killing many of them, that is something to which the French cannot pretend to do, as they run like deer, they bound like stags, and they know better the ways of these vast forests than do the wild beasts; the French did not lightly venture to entangle themselves in these dense woods.

After their retreat, we saw, more than ever, their cunning and ability; they had a fort rather near the shore of the great river, from which they spoke to us; they had another, hidden further within the woods, but so well constructed and so well supplied that it was proof against all our resources. Mistrusting that we might come to hostilities with them, on account of the resolution they had made to continue war with our Indian allies, during the night they put their canoes in safety; they transported all their baggage to their second fort, to which they secretly retired; and to the end that we should believe them to be in the first one at which we were firing, having no knowledge of the second, they kept there a fire continually burning. They left there also their musketeers, who, after having fired some shots, came out to take closer aim at us, skulking behind trees and shooting skillfully. They let loose their whole fury upon our barque, knowing that the Governor was there; and if it had not been well shielded, they would have wounded and killed several of our men, -- a French sword, being visible above the screens, was carried away by a musket shot, many ropes were cut, and all the screens were filled with balls. They accomplished their retreat with good management, for they had encouraged their musketeers to fight valiantly, as they did, so that they might not be perceived while they carried across marshes and woods their baggage and their canoes. When night came, they made their escape. Thus the war with these tribes has broken out more fiercely than ever.

They had set out from their own country five hundred warriors strong; one band had gone to meet the Hurons, to set ambushes for them, and to await them as one awaits a wild beast in its flight. While these were on the watch, they perceived two canoes which were bringing to us Father de Brebeuf and some Frenchmen, but having caught sight of them rather late, in a place where it was possible to escape by vigorous paddling, they let them go on without pursuing them or revealing themselves. It was a great proof of the goodness and of the providence of our Lord towards the Father, and towards those who accompanied him; for five other canoes filled with Hurons, coming shortly after, were attacked by these robbers, who massacred some of them; others escaped, and others fell alive into their hands, to be the sport of flames and of their rage, and to be the food of their wretched stomachs. Such is the funeral and such the tomb that awaits us, if ever we happen to die by the claws of these tigers, and the fury of these Demons.

One of those who had escaped from this ambush went at once to the Three Rivers, the others ascended towards the country of the Hurons, to warn those who were coming down of the danger by which they might be lost. After this defeat, Father Paul Ragueneau and Father Rene Menard, while reascending to the country of the Hurons, escorted by some canoes, met eight or ten Indians who told them that their lives would be lost if they went further, as the enemy had not yet withdrawn. At this unexpected news, these canoes returned to Three Rivers for the purpose of asking assistance from the Algonquins; these last urged them to go as far as Quebec to procure arms from the fort, and aid from the Christian Indians of Saint Joseph, -- promising themselves to meet that escort. Father de Brebeuf, Father Ragueneau, and the good Charles Sondatsaa undertook this commission; they came to the Governor, who shipped some well-armed and resolute soldiers, commending them to the new Christians of Saint Joseph, who on their part armed eight canoes for the same purpose.

When they were ready to set out, two Indians arrived from the country of the Abenakis, who told us that the whole country of the Iroquois breathed only war; that the English had abandoned the settlement they had made at Kennebec; and that a man named Makheabichtichiou, of whom I have spoken above, had been wretchedly slain in their own country, by an Abenaki nearer to the sea. They said that this deed was done in drunkenness; that all his Countrymen had strongly disapproved of it, and that they had been sent to give satisfaction to the parents and to the relatives and to the whole Nation of the deceased. As his relatives were mostly at Three Rivers, these two Abenakis had embarked with the fleet to go to them; the report of their arrival having already spread, our warriors, who had taken into their own canoes these two Ambassadors, met a rather unfriendly reception from the Algonquins.

They were told at first that these Algonquins were inclined to seize the Abenakis, so they could put them to death, contrary to the law of all Nations; for they came to negotiate peace. Jean Baptiste Etinechkawat and Noel Negabamat, who are the two principal Chiefs of Saint Joseph, seeing that the Algonquins were crowding together, and that some were armed, commanded those who were following them to make a halt and to load their muskets with balls. At these words, a young Algonquin advanced, knife in hand, to thrust it at one of the Abenakis, but this last, taking a step backward, presented to him the muzzle of his musket. The Algonquins exclaimed that it was a feint, -- that their custom is to terrify those who bring news of the death of any of their Nation, even though they come as Delegates and as Mediators of peace.

At these words, each one stood still; they looked, although rather coldly, on the Abenakis discussing their affair; and an Algonquin Captain, a near relative of one of our Saint Joseph Christians, approaching and addressing him, said: "My nephew, I am glad at your coming."

"And I," said this young Christian, "was astonished, on landing at Three Rivers, to see that arms had been raised. 'Indeed,' said I to myself, 'have we already arrived in the country of the enemy?' When I left Saint Joseph, I said in my heart, 'I shall find my relatives at Three Rivers, -- I shall surely be pleased by seeing them;' but as soon as I had set foot on land, I found the country of the Iroquois, for we were commanded to load with balls."

"Did you load?" said his uncle to him.

"Yes," responded he, "I put two balls into my musket."

"Would you have fired on your relatives?"

"I would have obeyed our Captains, and fired right and left: I am on the side of those who believe in God." These responses made me see the strength of faith so much more, as these Indians are closely bound to their relatives: but Jesus Christ came to break this bond.

When this tumult was appeased, Sir de Chanflour ordered the chief Innu and Algonquin Indians to be called, and to be asked when they would set out to escort the Hurons. The Algonquins made a sign to Jean Baptiste Etinechkawat, an Innu Captain, that this was for him to say; his speech was comprised in a single word, -- "I am a Frenchman," said he, "I have nothing more to say." This word was worth ten thousand; he meant that he was a Christian and a Frenchman at the same time, that he was ready to obey the will of him who commanded the French, and that, in so urgent an affair, it was not a question of much speaking, but of marching without delay.

The Apostate Oumasatikeie began to speak with a thousand impertinences; at last he came to the conclusion that the enemy had departed, and consequently that there was no need of giving an escort to the Hurons.

Charles Sondatsaa, a Huron, then vigorously spoke, -- he illustrated the danger and urged the Algonquins; but he spoke to those who had closed ears, and who rushed from the assembly as soon as they had inflicted their blow. The question now was to see if the Christians in these eight canoes, which also bore a few French soldiers, would go on with the Hurons; their small number in comparison with the enemy was enough to terrify them. The French soldiers were asked if, seeing themselves destitute of help from the Algonquins, they were willing to go on further; they answered that, the Governor having commanded them to accompany the Christian Indians of Saint Joseph, they would never abandon them on account of any danger. The soldiers, on their return, spoke in the highest terms of our Neophytes, and our Neophytes could not sufficiently praise the soldiers.

Here then were our French soldiers ready to embark, if the Christians in these eight canoes wished to go on. They were asked what their opinion was; they answered that it was not for them to decide, that they were wholly disposed to receive the orders of the French. This troubled Sir de Chanflour, and all those who were present; not even one voted that they ought to command this voyage, no person was willing to expose these good Neophytes to the great dangers that were dreaded. "This small number of Christians," said someone, "is like the yeast which ought to leaven the whole mass of Christianity in these regions; if they are defeated, the Unbelievers will become more troublesome than ever, and will accuse us of having forced to their death those who have received our belief." On account of these objections, the poor Hurons, seeing themselves abandoned by all aid, were distressed, and we as well as they; for Father Paul Ragueneau and Father Rene Menard were to accompany them.

At the time they had decided to set out, a Huron canoe arrived, and we learned that the enemy had retired; so that the Fathers went on with the good Charles Sondatsaa and the other Hurons without any other discomfort than the great fatigues of a most frightful road.

A short time after their departure, some other canoes arrived, bearing Hurons, who slandered poor Father de Brebeuf; they said that, having met a Huron who had escaped from the hands of the enemy, they had learned from him what I am going to relate.

"Being in the hands of the Iroquois," said this escaped prisoner, "one of them spoke to me in this way: 'We have a good understanding with the black-robed Frenchmen who are in your country, and especially with a certain man whom you call Echon,'" -- it is what they name Father Jean de Brebeuf; "'this man spent the winter among the neutral Nation, where he had communication with the Iroquois, our confederates; he combined with them and with us that he might ruin you. Take courage, we entered into the country of the Hurons to exterminate them; we have already caused a great number of them to die by our prayers, as by powerful charms; but we have not been able to destroy them entirely. You must give the finishing stroke to them, by your wars and by your sudden attacks; when they shall be wholly destroyed, we will dwell with you in your country. When our confederates had informed us of all this, we came to lie in ambush for you. We recognized Echon, and visited him at night; he made us presents, and we let him go away. He told us of the canoes which were following him, and therefore you have fallen into our hands,'" said the Iroquois to this prisoner, according to the report of the slanderers who contrived these deceits to ruin us.

I must note an act of magnanimity in our Christians of Saint Joseph, during the stay they made at Three Rivers; their Captain having said in open assembly that he was a Frenchman, since he had embraced their belief, a certain Unbeliever, wishing to affront him and all his people, cried aloud to him: "Go then, you Frenchman, that is right, go away into your own country. Embark in the Ships, since you are a Frenchman; cross the sea, and go to your own land; you have for too long a time caused us to die here."

A MISSION HELD AT TADOUSSAC.

ALTHOUGH the Tadoussac Innu are almost the first ones that our vessels meet, yet the Gospel was carried to them only after it had been taken to many others; and still it was not we who won them, but our new Christians of the Residence of Saint Joseph. Last year our Neophytes went to invite them, by means of a fine present, to come and dwell with them at Saint Joseph, so they could hear of the blessings of the other life. They answered by another present that they were not estranged from the faith, but desired that someone should come and instruct them in their own country.

A Father states: "On Wednesday, the eve of the most Holy Sacrament, the Indians came in a canoe to meet us; as I saw that the winds, which had seemed inclined to make a truce with us, were recommencing their war, I set out with them, promising our Frenchmen that I would come to say Mass for them on the following day, if the weather permitted. The Indians guided me to a place where there was neither soil nor tree; it was on the rocks, where they would have passed the night with no other covering than the sky if I had not been with them. I urged them immediately to seek a place where we might build a cabin; having found one, they spread their sheets of bark on five or six poles, and well it was for them, and for me also," said the Father, "for we were beaten all night by the wind and the rain.

"As soon as I had arrived at Tadoussac," continued the Father, "the Indians built me a house after their fashion. It was soon set up; the young men went to search for bark, the girls and the women for branches of fir, to line it with a beautiful green; the older men did the carpentry, which consisted of some poles that they bent to form a bower, and spread on it the bark of ash or of spruce; and a Church and a house were quickly built. In the beginning, I wondered where they would cut the bark, so as to make windows; but, when the house was finished, I saw that it was not necessary to take that trouble, for there was enough air and light without windows. I built within an Altar; I made my little retreat nearby, and I was more content than in a palace, and as well lodged. The door alone troubled me, for I desired the means of fastening it when I went out; the Indians, who use only a piece of bark or a skin to close their cabins, did not seem sufficiently good carpenters to make my palace secure; but Charles Meiachkawat showed me that they were. He went in search of two pieces of board, nailed them together, and made a little door; I had with me a padlock dangling from a small bag, and he discovered a way of using it to lock up my house. Here I am, lodged like a young Prince, in a Palace built in three hours.

"As I perceived annoyance from the children, the Captain made a great shout among the cabins and ordered the young people not to enter my dwelling except with my permission: 'O youth!' said he, 'respect our Father. Go and visit him; but when he is praying, or is engaged, retire without noise; carry him fish, when you catch them.' The children followed me everywhere, and called me their Father; they brought me their fish, and I gave them a little biscuit; I was at peace in my house of bark, when I chose to be, for I took the liberty from the beginning of sending away all whom I would, when I was occupied." Although it is an unheard of thing for an Indian to refuse the door of his cabin to another Indian, no one took offense at the Father's manner of dealing with them. It is necessary from the beginning to give the bent you desire to these simple people; they are reasonable, and are not surprised that our ways are different from theirs.

"After my arrival, I made for the Indians a feast of Indian corn, which they like exceedingly; I had had it brought in the barque expressly for this purpose. I meant to speak during this feast, but the Indians having discovered my intention, put me off until another time. Toward evening, when Sir Marsolet and I wished to exhibit the presents of the Governor and our own, the Captain ran to meet us, and spoke to me in these terms: 'My Father, there is no need of making us presents to invite us to believe in God; we have all decided to do so. Heaven is a sufficiently great recompense. Without entering upon further discussion, all those whom you see here have decided to pray, but not to leave their country to ascend the river.' He brought forward many reasons to show that it was important to them, not to withdraw from Tadoussac.

"His remarks were good, but based upon human and worldly considerations. Thus we were checked in making our presents. Charles' Meiachkawat who had retired from Tadoussac, so he could live at Saint Joseph, spoke to them several times, earnestly, but above their comprehension, for men do not promptly lay aside the interests of the world.

"But the country is so wretched that soil is scarcely found there for their graves; there are only barren and frightful rocks. If the General, and the fleet of the Company of New France, which passes some months of every year at Tadoussac, should cause a house to be built there, like the one Sir du Plessis Bochart had commenced, that would be a benefit to all their crews, and to the poor Indians; for some Fathers of our Jesuits could withdraw there in the Spring and remain until the departure of the vessels, so they could aid the Frenchmen and the Indians in their spiritual needs. To dwell there during the winter is a thing I should never advise any Frenchman to do; for the Indians go away at that time, abandoning their rocks to the cold and the snow and the ice, of which some remains are still seen this year late in June. Besides, if the fury of the Iroquois can be checked, all the Tadoussac Innu, and of the Saguenay, and of many other small Tribes, will go farther up the river, if we continue to aid them. But let us hear all the observations of the Father:

"I saw some young men of the Saguenay (Porcupine Innu) here, who had never seen any Frenchmen; they were astonished to hear me speak their own Language. They asked from what place I was; they were told that I was from Quebec, and was one of their relatives; but they could not believe it at all, for our beards put a difference, almost fundamental, between a European and an Indian.

"I have had communication with some families from the Interior. Being present, on a certain day, at a meeting where the Indians discussed sending their young men with merchandise to these more distant Tribes, I offered to accompany them; this somewhat troubled them, for they are unwilling that Frenchmen should have a knowledge of their trade, and of what they give to other Indians for their furs, and this they keep so secret that no one is able to discover it. They described to me the horrible and frightful roads, as they are, indeed; but they magnified the horror of them so as to divert me from my plan."

THE GOOD PROSPECTS FOR THE CONVERSION OF THE INDIANS, AND OBSTACLES TO THAT.

THE arrival of the Vessels ordinarily brings a mingling of joy and sorrow. We took satisfaction in seeing the men of the Gentlemen of Montreal. This satisfaction was lessened by the delay of Sir de Maisonneuve, who commands these men, and who put into port three times while in France; and, at last, he arrived so late that he was not able to ascend the river above Quebec this year. God grant that the Iroquois may not shut up the roads.

Father Jacques de la Place and our Brother Ambroise Brouet arrived in good health. A young Lady, who had not in France two doubles' worth of life, lost more than half of it on the Vessel, so much did she suffer; but she has found at Quebec more life than she had when she sailed from la Rochelle. The workmen generally arrive here with sound bodies and teeth; and if their souls have any sickness, it is not long before they recover good health. The air of New France is healthy for the soul and for the body. We have been told that it was reported in Paris that there had sailed to Canada a Vessel laden with girls whose virtue had not the approval of any Doctor; it is a false report, -- I have seen all the Vessels and not one was laden with these wares.

An act of piety has been brought to my notice. A man of merit and of position wishes to provide for a family of Indians; he has set apart a hundred gold coins to build them a small house, he wishes to be told the number of persons who compose this family, and how they are named; he asks what will be needed to establish them for the first year, and what rule must be observed for their support.

I expect that Saint Joseph will be populated by Abenakis, by Betsiamite Innus, by Indians from Tadoussac, by Porcupine Innus, by Papinachois Innus, and the Oumamiwek Innus; these are unimportant tribes in the Interior, who will rally about our Neophytes of Saint Joseph, and who will also, by degrees, call others. These Tribes have heard of Jesus Christ; but the little assistance that we can give them, and the fury of the Iroquois, hinder their coming to join us.

The Atikamekw, and other Tribes of which I do not know the names, who are in the Interior, will settle at Three Rivers; they would already have done so, but for the fear of their common enemy, the Iroquois. They are good and docile peoples, very easily won to Jesus Christ.

The Algonquins, those of the Kichesipirini Algonquins and of the Weskarini Algonquins, the Iroquet Algonquins, and many others who are in those quarters, some Hurons, and even also some Iroquois, will one day dwell on the Island of Montreal and in neighboring places. This Island ought to be a great resort for many tribes. I do not say of the Hurons, the upper Algonquins, and the Iroquois, what I have said of the Atikamekw, of the Kakwazakhi, and of the Betsiamite Innus; these latter tribes are lambs, and the former tribes are fierce as wolves.

After Montreal, I see at the South and at the West a great number of Tribes that cultivate the land and that are entirely settled, but have never heard of Jesus Christ; the door to all these peoples has been shut against us by the Iroquois. In all these vast tracts there are only the Hurons, and some other neighboring Tribes, to whom we have carried the good news of the Gospel; but then we have to approach them by horrible roads and long detours, and in continual danger of being boiled or roasted and then eagerly devoured by the wretched Iroquois.

We believe that old France will save the life of the New, which is going to be lost unless it be vigorously and speedily aided; the trade of these Gentlemen of the Company of New France, the French Colony, and the Religion which is beginning to flourish among the Indians, will be subverted if the Iroquois be not overcome. Fifty Iroquois are capable of making two hundred Frenchmen leave the country, -- not if they fought unflinchingly, for in that case fifty Frenchmen would rout five hundred Iroquois, if the Dutch did not give them firearms. If these Indians become enraged at our Frenchmen, they will never let them sleep soundly; an Iroquois will remain for two or three days without food behind a stump, 125 feet from your house, to slay the first person who shall fall into his ambush. If he be discovered, the forest serves him for a sanctuary; where a Frenchman would find only hindrance, an Indian will bound as lightly as a deer. What opportunity is there to take breath, in such anxieties? If we do not make friends with these people, or if they be not exterminated, we must abandon to their cruelty many good Neophytes.

Here are some fragments of a letter:

"I set out last year from Three Rivers," says Father Claude Pijart, "to go to the country of the Nipissings. God saved us from the ambushes of the Iroquois, and from a shipwreck, in which I thought I should lose my life; the Indians who were conducting me having stepped into the water, in a torrent against the current of which they were dragging the canoe that bore me, and the rapidity of the water having made them lose their hold, I saw myself being carried away by the torrent into a precipitous rush of water full of horror. I was at two finger-lengths from death, when a young Huron, who alone had remained with me in the canoe, sprang nimbly into the seething water, pushed the canoe out of the current, and, in escaping himself, saved me and all our little baggage.

"We have made several journeys this winter. Our usual dwelling place during the winter has been in the country of the Hurons, which we left on the eighth of May, so we could go and instruct the Nipissings. We say Mass every day in their cabins, making a little recess, or a little Chapel, with our blankets.

"These peoples seem gentle, modest, and in no way proud; they are thrifty, -- the women do not know what idleness is, and the children go to fish as soon as they are somewhat grown. The young people show a great eagerness to learn what we teach them, and they are much given to singing. The men go to trade with other Indians in the North, from where they bring back a quantity of furs; one Indian alone, having his supply of grain, had also three hundred beavers, which are the best money of the country.

"We shall need a good number of brave workers, who will devote themselves to the Algonquin tongue; all these regions are filled with people who speak it. I hope that our Nipissings will go down to Three Rivers with Father Charles Raimbault."

From another letter: "Father Paul Ragueneau and Father Menard arrived here in good health, on the day preceding the Assumption; in the evening, prayers were chanted in our Chapel of bark, in Latin, in Algonquin, and in Huron. What you have been told concerning the men who are beyond the Saguenay is true; our Nipissings, returning not long since from the Crees, who trade on the Northern sea, assured us that they found four hundred men who all speak Innu, -- that is equivalent to four thousand people."

Here are a few words from Father Pierre Pijart: "I have been on a Mission to the Petun nation; I found two Villages where Algonquin was spoken, in one of which the men go entirely nude. It is asserted that the people of the Mascouten, and of another that is called the Awanchronon Nation, also speak Algonquin; here is a fine extent of country for our Fathers who shall learn this language. A prisoner, belonging to the Mascouten, told me that he had heard, in his own country, that there were found certain people at the South of those lands who planted and harvested Indian corn twice a year, and that the last harvest was made in December." Whoever shall vanquish the fury of the Iroquois, or shall succeed in means of winning them, will open the door to Jesus Christ in all these regions.

THE HURON COUNTRY OF NEW FRANCE, FROM JUNE, 1640, TO JUNE, 1641. ADDRESSED TO THE REVEREND FATHER JACQUES DINET, PROVINCIAL OF THE JESUITS, IN THE PROVINCE OF FRANCE. H. L'ALEMANT.

THE GENERAL CONDITION OF CHRISTIANITY IN THESE COUNTRIES.

OUR Indians, having enjoyed this year perfect health and the fruits of a great harvest, have not rebuffed us in our visits nor cast so black looks upon us as in the preceding year. I do not know, still, if we ought rather to wish them adversity, or prosperity; sickness, or health. For if the healthy do not become wiser by one than by the other, some sick ones give us in dying the assurance of their happiness.

From June in the preceding year until November following, our occupation was to keep together the few Christians who had remained with us after the violent storm of the preceding winter; to make some trips to the Missions already begun; and to prepare ourselves for the Missions of the winter.

Towards the middle of Autumn, -- having considered our proficiency in the language, -- we found that, without doing harm to the five Missions of the preceding year, we could undertake two new ones, -- one in the Huron language, and one in the Algonquin; and this last, with the help of two of our Fathers recently arrived from Quebec.

See us then distributed among seven missions, where we preached and proclaimed the Kingdom of God to sixteen or seventeen thousand Indians of diverse tribes.

It is a pitiable thing to see the ideas in which the evil spirit still keeps these poor tribes. Some of them are seized with fright as soon as they see us, and ask if the malady does not return with us; others, after having heard us, have no reply except that they have no mind. Some, before pledging themselves, ask if we will assure them that they shall grow old; others ask that we should then undertake wholly the healing of all the sick, since we forbid the feasts and the ceremonious dances, which are the remedies of the country; others ask upon what they shall live, and how they shall spend their time, since they are forbidden to steal, and to cherish the women; others continue to protest that they believe, with a thousand politenesses and flatteries, which end at last only in asking for something or in stealing it if they can.

There are some who listen seriously and consent willingly to everything, remaining convinced of the truth; but on being urged to come to the performance of it, and to abandon all their superstitions, -- and especially their Aaskwandiks or familiar demons, real or imaginary, -- they lose courage, not being able to resolve on abandoning what for so many ages they have persuaded themselves to be essential to their preservation and that of their families, and the source of all their good fortune.

We must begin by fixing and confirming the marriages, which have here no stability, and are broken more easily than the promises which children make to one another in France. And, -- as one of the principal causes of their dissolution comes from this, that one of the parties is not able to supply the needs and necessities of the other, which causes that other to go and seek them elsewhere, -- one of the most effective means of binding them indissolubly will be to assist them, so their marriages may be rendered stable. It is for this purpose that we have begun to work. Certain persons of merit, not being contented with a temporary donation, have decided to make perpetual foundations of ten or twelve gold coins so that they may be continually employed to ensure the Faith shall be firmly rooted in these husbands and wives and in their families.

Among those who are inclined to this charity are some who are freed from marriage and without children, or even who have always lived free from such bond, and who believe that they could here gain children by this manner of holy adoption, and therefore perpetuate their names in this land, when their names are lost in their own. And to cause that remembrance of them to be always more present in the prayers of these people, they have desired that their names should be given to the families proceeding from these marriages. We are awaiting the list of these, so we may begin the execution of their plan.

THE PERMANENT RESIDENCE AND MISSION OF SAINT MARIE.

Of the number of Fathers who were with us in the Huron country at the time of the last Report, Father Paul Ragueneau, and Father Joseph Poncet went down to Quebec last Summer to spend the Winter there; and toward the beginning of Autumn, Father Claude Pijart and Father Charles Raymbault came here, on account of their knowledge of the Algonquin language; and they complete the same number of thirteen Fathers which we had last year. It is in this House of the Mother of God that at some time in the year we see ourselves all reunited; and we even hope that it may serve as a retreat to the poor Christian Indians, who, -- feeling themselves carried away by a torrent of debaucheries, and by the barbarous customs of their Country, while dwelling in their own villages, -- will have a means of escaping shipwreck by taking refuge near us; some of them have already done so.

A number of Algonquins having wintered near us this year, it was a sweet anthem to hear the praises of God in three or four languages; this house is the house of peace, -- so much so that the Indians who elsewhere are the most hostile towards us take on a disposition wholly different, when we see them in our home.

The order that Sir Charles de Montmagny, our Governor, established last year at the time when they went down to the trade, in punishing the acts of insolence that had been committed against us up here, has already had a good effect on the minds of these Indians. Even a few entire tribes have rendered us justice for the wrong we had received from some among them, to avoid the punishment which they feared to receive down at Three Rivers.

THE MISSION OF LA CONCEPTION.

FATHER Francois le Mercier has had the principal care of this Mission; I have had the satisfaction of accompanying him to it and of often seeing with my own eyes the most pleasing object, and the greatest treasure that we have in these regions, -- that is, the first Church which was planted here, composed of a small number of Christians. Most of these good Christians are found in the chief village of the Mission, which extends over several other villages and hamlets.

It was to this village of la Conception (which bears the name of the whole Mission) that the brave and generous Christian Joseph Chihwatenhwa belonged, and whom the Iroquois slew last Summer, having rushed unexpectedly upon him. His wife -- who, it seemed, should have been the most cast down by this occurrence -- told us that, when the news of it was brought to her, she remained some time speechless, without realizing anything; and that the first thought which came to her was what she had so often heard the deceased say on many occasions: He who is the master of it has arranged it; what could we do in the matter?

His elder brother, named Teondechorren, who before had not had a high regard for his instructions and good advice, came to us three days after the murder, to ask us urgently for Baptism. He was examined, and was found informed upon all that was necessary. We gave him the name of Joseph, which was the name of the deceased, in the hope we had that the virtue of his late brother, as well as his name, might be made to live again in his person.

The conversion of this new Joseph seems so much the more important, as he had been for twenty years steeped in the practice of the Aoutaenhrohi, or festival and dance of fire, -- the most diabolical, and the most general remedy for maladies that there is in the country. He has corroborated for us everything that has been already written about it; and he told us that, when about twenty years old, he began to follow those who turned their attention to this; but when he saw that he had not, like the others, hands and mouth which were fireproof, he was careful not to touch what was too hot, but he made only a pretense of doing it and played his part to the best of his ability.

At the end of some time he had a dream, in which he saw himself present at one of these dances or festivals, and handling fire like the others, and he heard at the same time a song, which he was astonished to know perfectly on awaking. At the first feast of this kind which was made, he began to sing his song, and by degrees he felt himself becoming frenzied, -- he took the burning embers and the hot stones with his hands and with his teeth from the midst of the live coals, he plunged his bare arm to the bottom of the boiling kettles, and all without any injury or pain, he was master of his trade. And since then for the space of twenty years, it has befallen him sometimes to be present at three or four festivals or dances of this kind in one day, for the healing of the sick. He assured us that, far from being burned then, one felt, on the contrary, a coolness of the hands and mouth; but that it all must be done following the song that has been learned in the dream.

This good man, until now, was not of much importance among those of his Tribe; but since he has become a Christian, he has been looked upon in a different light by the Captains themselves, and by the most influential men of his village, who have wished to employ him in public affairs. One day, he made a journey to the Neutral Nation, and attended on their return the Fathers who were there on Missions.

THE MISSIONS OF ST. JOSEPH TO THE ATTIGNENONGHAC, AND OF ST. JEAN BAPTISTE TO THE ARENDARONONS.

THESE two Missions are sufficiently well populated to give adequate employment to six or eight workers; but the small number that we have among the Hurons not being even ample enough to furnish two Fathers to each Mission, we have found ourselves obliged to unite these two under the care of Father Antoine Daniel and of Father Simon le Moyne. Their labor has been considerably increased, were one to mention only the distance of the villages in which they are to teach, as the paths from one to the other are often infested by the Iroquois, the enemies of the Hurons; but their joy increases in proportion, since the steps that one takes for the conquest of a single soul are so many steps towards Heaven.

An Iroquois was to be burned in a rather distant village; what a consolation to set out, in the height of Summer heat, to deliver this poor victim from the hell which was prepared for him. He was approached and instructed, even while he was suffering under the cruelty of tortures. He received Baptism; they increased their fires and flames, and everything that cruelty supplies to spirits maddened by rage. This new Christian, -- having ascended the scaffold which was the place of his torment, in the sight of a thousand people who were his judges, his executioners, and his enemies, -- raised both his eyes and his voice to Heaven, and shouting in a loud voice, made known to everyone the cause of a joy which appeared on his brow in the fiercest tortures that he was enduring: "Io sakhrihotat de Sarakounentai, onne ichien aihei aronhiae eeth de Eihei;" "Sun, who are witness of my torments, listen to my words. I am at the point of death; but, after this death, Heaven shall be my dwelling." He repeated and reiterated often these words, and died in this sweet hope. This fortunate prisoner was named Tehondakwae, and in his baptism, Joseph -- the name of the village in which he was burned.

THE MISSION OF THE APOSTLES TO THE PETUNS

FATHER Charles Garnier and Father Pierre Pijart have had care of this Mission. The difficulties are so much greater in this Mission, as this Nation is not of those that go down for the Huron trade, -- those who claim the trade for themselves not permitting it. This causes them to look upon us as strangers, and as persons with whom they have no connection. But, besides the usual slanders of those among whom we live, they look upon us only with an eye suspicious of some misfortune that we have come to bring them; for which reason they put a bad impression on everything they see us do, and, above all, on the most holy acts; still they give no other motive for their mistrust than the cause that the Hurons give them, by their conversation.

To soothe these minds, we judged it would be fitting that the Fathers, when they went on their Mission this year, should do their best to hold there some general meeting of the chief men of the country, in order to inform them of our intentions. And since they saw no better means of accomplishing this than that of presents, they carried some with them; and after arriving in the country, they made known their purpose.

I do not know that ever any matter was argued there as this was, -- some agreeing to the proposition, others not wishing to hear mentioned either the meeting, or presents coming from our hands, saying boldly that this was a charm which we intended to use to ruin their country, as we had ruined those in which we had been before. However, the meeting was held, but the presents were refused: what we gained was that, in this assembly of the most Notable men of the Country, our commission was declared to them, and the obligation of recognizing Jesus Christ was urged upon them.

Since that time, the Fathers have gone through all the villages and hamlets of this district, and have discharged their duties there with all freedom; and they have found in these people a totally different reception from what had been intimated to them by a Captain, -- who, in open Council, gave them a command to vacate the country as soon as possible, if they were wise. Indeed, there has been no village in which they have since been better received than in the one where this Captain dwells, -- the inhabitants attempting to repair the fault of their chief.

To the village of Ehwae, surnamed St. Pierre and St. Paul, -- the principal village of this Mission, from where Father Garnier was driven last year, -- all imaginable misfortunes happened before the end of the year. The greater part of the cabins were burned by the enemy about three months afterward. Many died of hunger, of cold, or of smallpox; others perished in the water, and many were captured by the enemy. In fact, the matter appeared so extraordinary that the Captain of a neighboring village might well notice it, -- attributing the desolation of this village to no other cause than to the refusal they made to the Preachers of the Gospel last year.

One day, as they were going from one village to another, laden with their bundles, when the Fathers emerged from a little thicket, each one felt a hand seize him by the shoulder and a voice cried: "You are dead men!" Immediately they found themselves upon the ground. They expected next nothing less than a blow from a hatchet or a knife; but nothing else followed. Then they arose and saw the naked Indians who were fleeing, some to one side, and some to the other, without knowing what they had intended by this action, or what had stopped their plan.

THE MISSION OF THE ANGELS TO THE ATTIWANDARONS, OR PEOPLES OF THE NEUTRAL NATION.

THIS is one of the new Missions that we have begun this year, to one of the most important Nations in these regions. For a long time, we had cast our eyes here, but workers in strange languages are not quickly trained, especially when one is lacking, as we are in these parts, the aid and assistance of teachers or Interpreters.

Besides, our orders were not to go to the limits without passing through the center, or devote ourselves to teaching more distant Nations before laboring among those nearer. As this had been done in preceding years, we found ourselves at the beginning of Autumn ready to allot two Workers to this Mission.

The lot fell upon Father Jean de Brebeuf, who before had been the first one chosen to introduce and establish us in these regions; God had given him a special blessing, -- namely, in the language. He who was given to him as companion was Father Joseph Marie Chaumonot, who came from France the year before, and had been acknowledged gifted in languages.

This nation is populous; about forty villages or hamlets are counted there. Setting out from our Huron people to reach the first and nearest villages, we travel four or five days, -- that is, about 100 miles, -- going always directly South. According to the most exact observation which we have been able to make, our new house at Saint Marie (which is in the midst of the Huron country) is in forty-four degrees and about twenty-five minutes of latitude, the entrance to the Neutral Nation from the side of our Huron people will have a latitude of about 42 degrees and a half. For to think of making a more exact observation in the country itself, is what cannot be done. The sight of the instrument alone would drive to extremities those who have not been able to endure that of inkstands.

From the first village of the Neutral Nation which one finds on arriving there from this place, and continuing to travel South or Southeast, it is about four days' journey to the entrance of the so celebrated River of that Nation, into the Ontario (or lake of St. Louys). On this side of that River are most of the villages of the Neutral Nation. There are three or four beyond, ranging from East to West, towards the Nation of the Cat, or Eries.

This Stream or River is that through which our great Lake Huron, or freshwater Sea, empties; it flows first into Lake Erie, or of the Nation of the Cat, and at the end of that lake, it enters into the territory of the Neutral Nation, and takes the name of Onguiaahra (Niagara), until it empties into Lake Ontario (or lake of saint Louys), from where finally emerges the river that passes before Quebec, called the Saint Lawrence. So that, if once we were masters of the coast of the sea nearest to the dwelling of the Iroquois, we could ascend by the river saint Lawrence without danger, as far as the Neutral Nation, and far beyond, with considerable saving of time and trouble. According to the estimation of the Fathers who have been there, there are at least twelve thousand people in the whole extent of the country, which relies upon being still able to furnish four thousand warriors, despite the wars, famine, and sickness which for 3 years have been unusually prevalent there.

After all, I believe that those who formerly attributed such an extent to this Nation, and assigned to it so many tribes, understood by the term "Neutral Nation," all the other Nations which are South and Southwest of our Hurons, -- which are numerous, but which in the beginning having been only confusedly known, were comprised almost under one and the same name. The greater knowledge that we have gained since that time, both of the language and of the country, has made us more discriminating. Besides, of many different Nations with whom we now have acquaintance, there is not found one that has not trade or war with others more distant; this assures us that there is a great multitude of these Tribes, which remain for us to see.

Our Frenchmen who were first here surnamed this Nation "the Neutral Nation," and with reason; for this country being the usual land route of some Iroquois Tribes and of the Hurons, who are sworn enemies, they keep themselves equally in peace with both. Nay, even, formerly the Hurons and the Iroquois, when they met in the same cabin or in the same village of this Nation, were both in security so long as they did not go out into the fields; but for some time the rage of one against the other has been so great that, in whatever place they be, there is no security for the most feeble, -- especially if he be of the Huron side, for which this Neutral Nation seems to have less inclination.

Our Hurons call the Neutral Nation "Attawandaron," which is to say "Peoples of a slightly different language," for, as to the Nations who speak a language which they in no way understand, they call them "Akwanake," -- of whatever Nation they may be, -- which is to say, "strangers." Those of the Neutral Nation, for the same reason, call our Hurons Attawandaron.

We believe that not long ago they all made but one People, -- both Hurons and Iroquois, and those of the Neutral Nation; and that they came from one and the same family, or from a few old stocks which formerly landed on the coasts of these regions. But it is probable that, in progress of time, they have become separated from one another -- some more, some less in abode, in interests, and in affection; so that some have become enemies, others neutral, and others have remained in some more special connection and communication.

These Tribes which are Neutral between the Hurons and the Iroquois, have cruel wars with other Western Nations, and especially with the Atsistaehronons, or Mascoutens, -- from which they took last year a hundred prisoners; and this year, having returned there for war with an army of two thousand men, they again brought away more than a hundred and seventy, toward whom they conduct themselves with almost the same cruelties as the Hurons do towards their enemies. However, they practice the further cruelty of burning the women prisoners of war, as well as the men, -- which is not done by the Hurons, who either give them their lives, or content themselves with knocking them down in the heat of the moment, and bearing off some portion of their bodies.

The food and the clothing of this Nation do not differ from those of our Hurons: they have Indian corn, beans, and squashes in equal plenty; the fishing likewise seems equal, as regards the abundance of fish, of which some species are found in one region, that are not in the other. The people of the Neutral Nation excel in hunting Stags, Cows, wild Cats, wolves, black beasts, Beaver, and other animals of which the skin and the flesh are valuable. The supply of meat has been great there this year on account of the heavy snows which have fallen and which have facilitated hunting; for it is a rare thing to see in the country more than half a foot of snow, and they have had this year more than three feet. They have also multitudes of wild Turkeys, which go in flocks through the fields and woods. As for the refreshment of fruits, not more of them are found there than among the Hurons, unless it be chestnuts, of which they have plenty; and wild apples, a little larger than these.

They cover the bare flesh with a skin, like all Indians; but with less modesty than the Hurons as to the loincloth, which many do not use at all; others use it, but generally in such a way that with great difficulty is that concealed which should not be seen. The women, however, are ordinarily covered, at least from the waist as far as the knees; they seem more immoral and shameless in their promiscuous acts than are our Hurons.

They dress their pelts with much care and skill, and study to beautify them in many ways; but still more their own bodies, upon which, from the head even to the feet, they cause to be made a thousand different figures with charcoal pricked into the flesh, upon which previously they have traced their lines, -- so that sometimes one sees the face and breast ornamented with figures, as are in France the helmets, breastplates, and neck protection of military men; and the remainder of the body is appropriately decorated.

As for the rest of their customs and manners, they are, in almost all things, like the other Indians of these regions, especially in their irreligion and government, whether political or domestic. However, there are some things in which they seem a little different from our Hurons. First, they appear taller, stronger, and better proportioned. Secondly, their affection toward their dead seems to be much greater. Our Hurons immediately after death carry the bodies to the burying ground and take them away from it only for the feast of the Dead. Those of the Neutral Nation carry the bodies to the burying ground only at the latest moment possible when decomposition has rendered them unbearable; for this reason, the dead bodies often remain during the entire winter in their cabins; and having once put them outside upon a scaffold that they may decay, they take away the bones as soon as is possible, and expose them to view, arranged in their cabins, until the feast of the Dead. These objects which they have before their eyes, renewing continually the feeling of their losses, cause them frequently to cry out and to make most mournful lamentations, the whole in song. But this is done only by the women.

The third respect in which they seem different from our Hurons, is in the multitude and sort of lunatics. In going through the country, one finds nothing else but people who play this part with all possible extravagances, and any liberties they choose, and who are suffered to do all that is pleasing to them, for fear of offending their demon. They take the embers from the fire, and scatter them around; they break and shatter what they encounter, as if they were raving, -- although mostly, they are as self-collected as those who do not play this character. But they conduct themselves in this way, to give, they say, this satisfaction to their special demon, who demands and exacts this of them, -- that is, to him who speaks to them in dreams, and who makes them expect the fulfillment of their wishes for good success in hunting.

While the Fathers were in these areas, they learned that the Oneidas (who form one of the five Iroquois Nations) had a peculiar form of government. The men and the women there administer alternately the affairs; so that, if now it is a man who governs them, after his death it will be a woman, who during her life will govern them in her turn, except in what regards war; and after the death of the woman, it will be a man who will resume again the administration of affairs.

Some old men told our Fathers that they had acquaintance with a certain Western Nation, against which they were going to make war, and which was not far removed from the sea; that the inhabitants of the place fished for Vignots, that are a kind of oyster, the shell of which serves to make wampum beads, which are the pearls of the country. This is the way they describe their fishing: they observe when the sea rises in places where these Vignots abound, and when the violence of the waves drives them towards the shore, they throw themselves headlong into the water and seize those that they can catch. Sometimes they find them so large that it is all they can do to stretch their arms around one of them. Many affirm that it must be young men, who have not yet had knowledge of woman, who can carry on this fishery, as otherwise these creatures withdraw from them. I will not decide the truth of this.

They told that these same Tribes have a kind of war with certain aquatic animals larger and lighter in running than the Moose. The young men go into the water to tease these animals, which immediately gain the land and pursue their assailants. The Indians finding themselves too closely followed, throw some piece of leather, as the shoes of the Indians, to these animals, which stop and amuse themselves with, while the hunters gain the advance, and as often they see themselves followed too closely, they do the same thing, until they have arrived at a fort or ambush of a band of their people, who, surrounding the beasts, make themselves at last their masters.

Many of our Frenchmen who have been here have, in the past, made journeys in this country of the Neutral Nation for the sake of reaping profit and advantage from furs and other little wares that one might look for. But we have no knowledge of anyone who has gone there for the purpose of preaching the Gospel, except the Reverend Father Joseph de la Roche Daillon, a Recollect, who in 1626 made a journey there, and spent the winter there. But the Frenchmen who were then here, having learned the evil treatment that he had received there, fearing in case matters should go to the extreme, went for him, and brought him back in the Spring of the following year. The fervor which led the aforementioned Father to make this journey, as soon as he had set foot in the Huron country, not having permitted him to train himself beforehand in the language, and he being most of the time without an Interpreter, he was compelled to instruct those whom he could, more by signs than by word of mouth, as he himself relates in one of his printed letters. This, joined to the evil tricks which were played on him then by the Hurons, -- who feared the removal of their trade -- did not permit him in so short a time to do what he had desired for the service of God.

Then, fourteen years afterward, the two Fathers of our Jesuits who have had charge of this Mission set out from this House of Ste. Marie, the second day of November of last year, 1640. When they had arrived at St. Joseph, or Teanaustaye, -- the last village of the Hurons where they were to make provision for their journey, and find guides for the way, -- those who had given them a promise having failed them. Father de Brebeuf met a young man who had no thought of making this journey. I do not know by what impulse he addressed him; however, having said to him only these two words, "Quio ackwe," "Come, let us go away together." This young man, without opposition, immediately followed them, and remained their faithful companion. They had with them two of our French servants, as much to assist them in their journey as to make a show of trading with their help, and to pass as merchants in the country, in case the doors of the cabins should be shut against them, as happened.

They slept four nights in the woods; and on the fifth day they arrived at the first village of the Neutral Nation, named Kandoucho, to which they gave the surname of "all Saints."

As we knew of the evil tendency in the minds of these People, -- saturated solely with all the ill-natured remarks that had been made concerning us in our quarters in past years, and who had no other knowledge of us, -- we deemed it beneficial to go to them with presents, and to have in view some assembly of the Captains and Aged men whom we could enlighten as to our intentions.

For this purpose, it was necessary to ask one of the Captains, named Tsohahissen, who managed the public affairs. His village was in the midst of the country; to reach it, we had to pass through many other villages and hamlets, on arriving at which the Fathers were surprised to find that terror had gone before them and had caused the doors of the cabins everywhere to be closed. The name of Echon (which the Indians have given at all times to Father de Brebeuf) resounded on all sides, as that of one of the most famous sorcerers or demons that had ever been imagined. However, the pretext of trade made everything easy, and this consideration enabled them to reach quite successfully even the village of the chief Captain, who was away at war, and would not return until Spring. Our Fathers appealed to those who were conducting the affairs in his absence; they explained to them their plan of announcing the Gospel throughout these territories, and of forming a special alliance with them. As a proof of this, they had brought a collar of two thousand wampum beads, which they desired to present to the Public.

The Captains, after having held a council, said in reply that, as the chief of the country was absent, they could not accept the Presents before he came back, since according to their customs this would oblige them to make others in return; but, if we were willing to wait until then, we could, meanwhile, go freely into the country, to give there such instruction as we pleased. Before commencing, the Fathers considered it beneficial to retrace their steps, to lead our servants out of the country, then to take for the second time their way, and begin their duties. This they did, but the pretense of trade failing them, they had much to suffer afterward from a thousand slanders which were stirred up on account of their journey.

Our Hurons said that, when Echon set his foot in their country for the first time, he had said: "I shall be here so many years, during which I shall cause many to die, and then I shall go elsewhere to do the same, until I have ruined the whole land."

Others said that Echon, after having caused the death, by disease, of a part of the Hurons, had gone to make an alliance with the Senecas, who form one of the Iroquois Nations, -- the one most feared by the Hurons, and the one nearest to them, as the Hurons are distant but a day's journey from the last village of the Neutral Nation, to the East, which is named Niagara, the same name as the River. The Hurons said he had gone to visit the Seneca, to make them a present of wampum Collars and arrowheads and to instigate their coming to complete the ruin of the country. Some warned us privately to beware, as there had been no other cause for the murder of one of our Frenchmen, that occurred here some years ago, than just such journeys which made the country fearful of a transference of trade.

Others said that when that excellent Christian, Joseph Chiwatenhwa, was buried, Echon, turning in the direction of the country of the Senecas, who had killed him, said aloud "Seneca, it is all over with you, -- you are dead"; and that, immediately after, the Father had proceeded toward their district, so he could carry the disease to them, -- which was raging fiercely among the enemy during the stay of the Fathers in the Neutral Nation. Based on this, the Hurons asked us to cause the death of all their enemies.

From the departure of these Fathers until their return, I do not know that a week passed without someone's coming to bring us news that, these Fathers having been found in the Neutral Nation by the enemy, they had been slain. But I cannot doubt that these reports came from the Indians of our own region, who for a long time were meditating some evil plan, -- a murder being likely to be attributed to anyone else rather than to them; and it being committed in a strange Nation, their own country would be in no way responsible.

However, one of our Hurons, named Awenhokwi, a nephew of one of the chief Captains of this country, had been through many villages of the Neutral Nation while our Fathers were there, and said he had been Sent in the name of the Captains and aged men of this neighborhood, with presents of hatchets, to inform the Captains that they should beware these Frenchmen unless they were willing to see the country ruined.

One named Oentara, who came to the Neutral Nation, after having entertained the country with evil speeches and slanders, -- that we had bred the malady in our own house; that our writings were only sorceries; that we had caused everyone among the Hurons to die; that we were arranging to bring all the rest of the world to the grave, -- added that they should close the doors of the cabins against us, unless they wished shortly to see desolation there; and he was so impudent as to affirm everything in presence of our Fathers, and some aged men of the country.

Although Father de Brebeuf refuted all these evil persons, silencing each one and filling them with confusion, still, venom once dropped into the heart of these poor Indians is not easily cast out. Many other Hurons arrived who confirmed all these remarks, and inspired the chiefs and Captains with so many suspicions respecting us that those to whom we had spoken to about holding a council, and -- who had deferred the matter until the return of Tsohahissen, the chief Captain, declared that they had power to decide pressing affairs in the absence of Tsohahissen, and that they would deliberate upon it immediately. Then they made a pretense of holding a council to consider this matter, which was already resolved upon, and one of them went to the Fathers to notify them of the result, which was that their present was refused. The Fathers said that this was not the only thing which they had brought them; the principal thing was the desire to give them a knowledge of the one God, and therefore they would like to know if they refused to be taught, since they had refused the present. To that they answered that, as for the Faith which had been preached to them, they accepted it, finding there nothing but good; but as for the present, they refused it.

The Fathers were sufficiently satisfied with this answer, because they believed they had gained the principal thing to which they aspired, which was the liberty of preaching the Gospel in the country; however, they deemed it fitting to ask a cause for the refusal of the present, saying they had been commissioned to give it and would be compelled to render an account of this refusal. They said, at first, that the Treasury was poor, and that they had no means of making one in return. The Fathers answered that, if it were only that, they should have no difficulty in accepting the present, as they themselves renounced a compensation of this nature; that it would suffice that they should regard us as brothers. They persisted in the refusal, and, not being able to bring forward any pretext which was not immediately set aside, at last the chief of the Council said: "Ah! do you not know what Awenhokwi said, and came here to do? and do you not know the danger in which you are, and in which you are putting the country?" The Fathers attempted to reply to this as to the rest; but as no one was found willing to listen, it was necessary to withdraw.

Despite this, the Fathers did not consider themselves driven out of the Country by the result of this Council. However, they thought that if, in the past, they had had trouble in going through the villages, they possibly would have more than ever in the future. Indeed, they no sooner approached a village, than from all sides was screamed: "These are the Agwa who are coming" (this is the name they give to their greatest enemies), "fasten your doors;" so that the Fathers coming to cabins to enter them, according to the rule and custom of the country, found there generally only closed doors; for they were looked upon as sorcerers who carried death and misfortune everywhere. And if any received them, it was more often through fear that a refusal might be resented than for the hope they had of great gain.

Besides, it is inconceivable into what terrors the reports of our Hurons had put the minds of these poor Indians, -- already by nature extremely suspicious, particularly of strangers; and above all of us, of whom they have never heard anything but evil; all the reports and slanders forged by our Hurons in preceding years, have, since that time, filled their ears and their minds. The sight of our Fathers, clothed and arrayed in a fashion so different from their own, their gait, their gestures, and all their manners, seemed like convincing proof and confirmation of what they had been told. Breviaries, inkstands, and writings were considered by them as instruments of magic; if the Fathers began to pray, it was, in their thought, only the performance of sorcerers. It was said that when they went to the brook to wash their dishes, they poisoned the water; that in all the cabins, wherever they went, the children were seized with a cough and a bloody discharge; and that the women became barren; there was no misfortune present or to come, of which they were not considered the source. And many of those persons, in whose cabins the Fathers were lodged, did not sleep either day or night: they dared not touch the food they left, and they brought back their presents, holding everything in suspicion. The poor old women considered themselves as already lost and only regretted their grandchildren, who might have been able to repopulate the land.

The Captains threatened the Fathers with the arrival of the Senecas, who, they asserted, were not far away. Others did not conceal that, as our presents had not been accepted, it meant there was no security for the Fathers in the country. Above all, the insolence and the tyranny of some of their hosts were unbearable, who commanded them as slaves, and wished to be obeyed in all things.

Sometimes they gave them almost nothing for food; and at other times they compelled them to go to the cabins of all their relatives, to eat what was set before them, and then to pay what they should dictate.

They spoke of nothing but of killing and eating these two poor Fathers. Meanwhile, the madmen were running through the villages and the cabins. Once, three of them, as bare as one's hand, suddenly entered the cabin in which the Fathers were, and, after having performed several tricks of their trade, went away; at other times, these madmen came to sit down by them, and asked to search their pouches, and, after snatching what they had in their hands, went away, feigning insanity. It seemed that the Fathers were like a ball with which the demons in the midst of this Barbarism were playing, but with a command from God that nothing should be lacking to them, -- for in the four months that they were there, they lacked nothing that was necessary for life, neither lodging, nor sufficient food; and they were always in good health, amid hardships which can be better imagined than explained. They showed their ingenuity by laying in a supply of bread, baked under the cinders after the manner of the country, and which they kept for thirty or forty days, so they could have it in case of necessity.

The Fathers, in their journey, passed through eighteen hamlets or villages, to all of which they gave a Christian name, which we shall use subsequently when occasion arises. They made a special stay at ten, where they gave instruction as often as they could find a hearing. They estimated about five hundred fires, and three thousand persons, that might be contained in these ten villages in which they proclaimed the Gospel.

As the Fathers saw that these people were not sufficiently willing, and the reports and terrors were continually increasing, they deemed it beneficial to retrace their steps, and return to the first village of Kandoucho, or all Saints, in which they seemed to be the least unwelcome; and laboring there for the instruction of the inhabitants of the place, to wait until Spring, when we would send for them. But God arranged differently both for them and for us. For when they had arrived midway on their return journey, at the village of Teotongniaton, surnamed St. Guillaume, snow unexpectedly came in so great quantity that it was impossible for them to go further. This misfortune, if such it must be called, was the cause of the greatest good they had had in their whole journey: for, while they had been unable to live anywhere in peace and quiet, -- to study the language of the country -- in this village they happened to lodge in the cabin of a woman, who attempted to give them as much satisfaction as all the others in the past had given them occasion for sorrow.

She took most special care to give them the best food that she could; and when she saw that on account of Lent they ate no meat, -- of which she had an abundance at that season, and on which alone the residents of her cabin lived, -- she took the trouble of making them a separate dish seasoned with fish, which was better than she would have made for herself.

She took pleasure in teaching them the language, dictating the words to them, syllable by syllable, as a teacher would to a little pupil; she even dictated to them entire Narrations, as they desired. In imitation of her, the little children, who everywhere else ran away or kept out of their sight, vied with one another here in rendering them a thousand kind services, and could not be weary in talking with them, and giving them every satisfaction, either in the language or whatever it might be.

This is not all. In all the other cabins of the village, the people continued to cry after her that she must drive away the Fathers, and they intimidated her with all the misfortunes of which these Fathers were considered the bearers. She laughed at everything, and so cleverly refuted all the slanders that were loaded upon them that we ourselves would not have been able to do so any better. When anyone menaced her with death, and the desolation of her family, -- which would follow after the departure of the Fathers, and this for having welcomed them to her house, -- she replied that it was a common thing for men to die, and that she expected to die; but that those who were talking in this way were themselves the ones who were attempting to bewitch her and to cause her and her children to die; however, she would prefer exposing herself and her family to the danger of death, to sending the Fathers away at a time when they might perish in the snow.

Not only was she obliged to reply to those without, but also to some within her own cabin, who reproached her with her father's being a sorcerer, -- saying that it was no wonder she took such delight in receiving sorcerers; but this did not disturb her any more than the rest. The little children frequently had quarrels over this same subject with their companions; they even fought in defense of the Fathers. It was especially noticeable that this good woman was never impatient in bearing so many annoyances, and in continuing her attentions to the Fathers until the day of their departure. The only regret which the Fathers experienced in separating from her was their inability to give her the blessing which we came to bring to the most barbarous of these regions, as her inclination to receive this was not yet sufficient.

The greatest sorrow this woman had was that she could not prevent the outrages which she saw these Fathers endure. A madman of her own cabin began to spit upon Father Chaumonot, to tear his cassock, to attempt burning it, and to call him hard names; and during several nights he made so great a din that the Fathers were not able to sleep. Others came who took away from them by force, in her presence, their most precious things; and for all amends, spoke of nothing less than of burning them.

Toward the last, the father of this good hostess came unexpectedly, and approved of all that his daughter had done for the Fathers; and he expressed a special liking for them, promising to come and see us in our own house.

In the twenty-five days that the Fathers remained in this cabin, they were able to harmonize the Dictionary and the Syntax of the Huron language with those of these Tribes, and accomplish a work which of itself would deserve that one make a stay of several years in the country, -- as our Indians take much more pleasure in those who speak their own language than in those who only attempt it, and whom they consider for that reason as strangers.

We only rarely received news of them, -- the Hurons, to whom they entrusted letters, losing them on the journey, or casting them away through malice or through fear; we were anxious about what was taking place. This made us resolve to send some people who should accompany them on their return, for which service our Christians of la Conception willingly offered themselves, despite all the reports of what was happening. Two of these, accompanied by two of our servants, made the journey: and they returned to us after eight days of travel and fatigue in the forest.

During all this, the Fathers had visited eighteen villages, and found only one, that of Khioetoa, surnamed saint Michel, which had given them the hearing that their Embassy merited. Some years ago, through fear of their enemies, there took refuge in this village a certain strange Nation, who had dwelt beyond the Eries (or cat Nation), called Wenros; and they seemed to have come into these areas to enjoy the good fortune of this visit. They were sufficiently instructed, but the Fathers did not think it beneficial to baptize them.

Shortly after Father Joseph Marie Chaumonot returned from the Neutral Nation, he joined Father Antoine Daniel, who was beginning the Summer Missions in his district. When they had arrived at saint Michel, a village of the Mission of saint Joseph, a harebrained young fellow, whom the devil had already attempted to use in several other wicked deeds against us, decided to kill one of these two. He concealed himself near a cabin where the Fathers were making a visit; when they went out and had turned their backs, he chose his time, and with his left hand seizing the hat of Father Chaumonot, who was walking last, he dealt him a blow on his bare head with a stone he was holding in his right hand. I do not know what prevented the harm he desired to do; however this Indian, perceiving that his act had not succeeded as he had expected, ran for a hatchet and raised it to let it fall upon the Father. But at this point, Father Daniel, his companion, and a few Hurons came hurriedly and kept back the arm and the blow. One of our Christians in this village, seeing Father Chaumonot in this condition, cared for him. Having found only a bruise and swelling in the injured part, he incised it with a stone, breathed on it, and moistened it with saliva; then he applied to it the gum of certain roots, by which he was enabled to return to us the next day.

As for the would-be murderer, his punishment was that some of his nearest relatives told him that he had no sense.

THE MISSION CALLED "THE HOLY GHOST," TO THE NIPISSINGS.

THE Askikwanehronons, according to our Hurons; or Nipissings, according to the Algonquins, -- form a Nation of the Algonquin tongue which contains more wandering than settled people. They have as many abodes as the year has seasons, -- in the Spring a part of them remain for fishing, where they consider it the best; a part go away to trade with the tribes which gather on the shore of the North or icy sea, upon which they voyage ten days, after having spent thirty days upon the rivers, to reach it.

In summer, they all gather together, on the road of the Hurons to the French, on the border of a large lake which bears their name, and is about 500 miles away from Quebec, and about seventy from our Hurons; so that their principal dwelling place is two-thirds of the way from Quebec to the country of our Hurons.

About the middle of Autumn, they begin to approach our Hurons, upon whose lands they generally spend the winter; but, before reaching them, they catch as many fish as possible, which they dry. This is the usual money with which they buy their main stock of corn, although they come supplied with all other goods, as they are a rich people and live in comfort. They cultivate a little land near their Summer dwelling; but it is more for pleasure, and that they may have fresh food to eat, than for their support.

Our Fathers at Quebec, and at Three Rivers, -- who in the past have successfully labored for the improvement of all the wandering tribes which were nearest to them, and have made nearly all of them men and Christians, -- cast their eyes upon this Nation, the nearest to the last one which came down to settle near them. But as these no longer came for Trade, on account of some opposition which others from below made against them, they did not know how to broach this matter. Last Summer, they themselves decided to feel their way, and to send some canoes for the Trade with the French. They arrived safely.

Consequently, we spoke to them not of abandoning their country and coming to place themselves near the other Algonquins already settled, but rather of receiving a few of our Fathers among them, so they could be instructed; they declared that this would be acceptable to them. This is why Fathers Claude Pijart, and Charles Raymbault, setting out from below to come and help us, had directions to offer themselves, on the way, to them. But not having found them at their Summer dwelling, and having learned that they were to come and winter in our quarters, they landed here without losing hope of seeing those to whom they were specially sent. These Indians, numbering about two hundred and fifty people, arrived shortly after.

They chose their ground on the same side of the river, upon which we were, and at two musket shots from our house. It was precisely from not being inconvenienced by their nearness to us, and, also from our not being distant from them, that our Fathers were easily able, every day, to go and instruct them; which they did. Tribes like these have an indescribably greater aptitude of heart for the seed of Faith than have our Hurons.

In the beginning, the chief Captain of this Tribe, named Wikasoumir, made a public announcement that everyone should pray to God and honor him, in the way taught by the French. After that, the little children began to learn the first principles of the Faith, and applied themselves so that in a short time they were found remarkably advanced.

The opportunity we had of instructing the Nipissings, on account of their nearness, and the great aptitude they showed in receiving instruction during the short time that their wintering lasted, made us unable to abandon them and devote ourselves to, others of the same language, who had also come to winter in the country. However, Father Claude Pijart visited a few other places, in one of which he found perhaps five hundred persons gathered together of different Tribes, to whom, in passing, he spoke of the Kingdom of God.

The Tontthrataronons, an Algonquin Tribe, numbering about fifteen cabins, were wintering upon the lands of the Mission of saint Jean Baptiste to the Arendaronons. Father Claude Pijart, on going to visit them, received from them every manner of hearty welcome.

The Father found in all those whom he visited, a disposition of mind similar to what he found in the Nipissings; but it was better in those who had traveled most, and had most frequented the warehouses of our Frenchmen at Three Rivers and at Quebec for some years. We shall see that with time, and with the reinforcement that we are hoping for in this language, we shall be able to do more for all these poor wandering sheep.

YEAR 1642
LETTER FROM FATHER CHARLES LALEMANT, TO FATHER ETIENNE CHARLET, ASSISTANT OF FRANCE AT ROME. PARIS, FEBRUARY 28TH, 1642.

Reverend Father,

I have received what you wrote in favor of the affairs for which Father Le Jeune has just made a journey to this country. Although I am extremely interested in all the affairs of New France, yet what you have written me increases my affection, according to which I have assisted him.

He has obtained ten thousand gold coins, with which to send men over there to fortify against the Iroquois, and prevent their incursions. Indeed, he would also have desired more effectual assistance, to drive away those who are sustaining the Iroquois in this war and furnishing them with firearms. But this enterprise has been deemed hazardous:

1st and 2nd, because their strength is not known and, if it were known, a considerable sum would be needed to defray the expenses of the men and ships that would be necessary for this purpose.

3rd, after all that, we would not be certain of prevailing over them; and if the attempt failed, what great outlays we would cause the King without gaining anything, which would result in our not being listened to when we might need some lesser help.

4th, we might take the place by force; after that is done, who will secure our fleets against those that have been driven away, and likewise the country, which they will try to surprise as we shall have surprised them? And it is the Company of the Indies that occupies the settlement there, and that would resent it if that were removed.

5th, if the attempt failed, that would certainly incite them against the people of Quebec, and they would furnish more arms than ever to the Iroquois; they might join with them to do us harm in the country.

6th, what certainty have we that that will cause the Iroquois to make peace with our Indians? And yet it is upon the assurance of such peace that this whole project is founded. We ask if, upon this hope alone, we should make a definite outlay of so great a sum as is necessary for this purpose, and should expose ourselves to the dangers mentioned above?

I would like to request to have your opinion of this matter written to me; and so you may better give it, here are the arguments that Father Le Jeune urges in favor of undertaking the enterprise:

If these people are not driven away by making terms with them, or by force of arms, the country is always in danger of being ruined, the mission of being broken up, the nuns of returning, and the colony of being destroyed; the door of the gospel is closed to many populous nations, and our fathers are in peril of being taken and burned. There is hope that they can be driven away.

Sir de Noyers has encouraged him to expect, and has almost promised, that whatever is necessary to expel them will be given, provided their forces are not too great. Of making terms with the Iroquois, there is no prospect, -- for he was told that it could not be expected from them, as they were Arabs; therefore, force must be used with them.

LETTER FROM FATHER CHARLES GARNIER TO HIS BROTHER. 1642.

My Dearest Brother,

Let us speak a little of the Hurons. You know that, in the preceding Years, we had spent the winter in the Mission of the Apostles, or Nation of the Tobacco; and others had been in the Neutral nation, or Mission of the Angels; and that we Had attempted to Cultivate These nations as well as That of the Hurons; but This year we have merely made some journeys to the mission of the apostles, -- hardly more than stopping there, -- and have left the neutral nation, -- both because Father Jean de Brebeuf, who had been there the year before, has remained for the winter at Quebec; And Because experience has taught us that These peoples become Converted only after a long and solid instruction.

Therefore, we have reunited our Jesuits this winter, -- holding them to the Culture of the principal Villages of the Hurons. Father Mercier and Father Ragueneau have spent The Winter in Instructing the village of L'Immaculee Conception; The Reverend Father L'allemant and Father Chaumonot, the Village of St. Michel, and that of st. Jean Baptiste. Father Chatelin and Father Pijart made Excursions to some villages nearest This House, and Father Le Moyne and I had for our portion the village of st. Joseph. God gave us Christians in all Those above-mentioned villages, -- but particularly in That of L'Immaculee Conception and in That of St. Joseph, the two villages in which we have worked for a long time, and in which we even had had residences during several years.

One of Our Christians offered to give us one end of his Cabin, -- closing the door by which he went out, and resolving to go out through the Other end of his Cabin. We then built a little chapel at That Cabin's end, which bears The Name of st. Joseph; it was ready for his feast. They came to it to hear mass every day; and every Saturday they Came there to regular Confession. Two of Our Frenchmen having Come to work at This Chapel, one Estienne Totiri showed them a thousand Courtesies, thinking that they did him a Great favor; and Yet it is Incredible how Many Conveniences he deprived himself of, by closing That end of his Cabin, and giving the place in which they usually stored their corn and their wood. But I was glad to maintain him in the thought that God did him much honor; and in fact, When I told him that several persons in France had employed all their wealth in having chapels built, I was astonished that, a half-hour later, This good young man came to bring me, on behalf of his mother, the Beaver Robe with which she Covered herself, -- saying that she made a present of it to Those who work at the chapel. This act touched us the more because we knew that These poor People were poorly Covered, and that it was cold weather. We assured him that God took pleasure in having their good will, and we gave them back their Robe. This family gives us much Consolation.

Charles Garnier

From the Hurons, this 22nd of May, 1642.

NEW FRANCE IN 1642. SENT TO THE REVEREND FATHER JEAN FILLEAU OF THE JESUITS IN THE PROVINCE OF FRANCE. BY FATHER BARTHELEMY VIMONT OF THE JESUITS, SUPERIOR OF THE RESIDENCE OF QUEBEC.

Reverend Father,

The state of affairs in this country have compelled me to send one of our Fathers to France, so he could represent the condition to which the incursions of the Iroquois reduce this newborn church. As vigorous aid was needed to subdue the insolence of these demons, he had to ask persons who possessed both the desire and the power in regard to all that relates to this new world. He spoke to Duchess d'Eguillon, who takes such an interest in the Conversion of the peoples of this country that she has founded a house of Mercy. She spoke of the matter to the Cardinal de Richelieu, and represented to him the dangers to which the French Colony in these countries was exposed, if efforts were not made to repel the Iroquois. She succeeded so well that she obtained powerful aid against our enemies.

With this assistance, the Father embarked. It is impossible to conceive the joy felt by the French and Indians over here at the arrival of this help; the dread of the Iroquois had so disheartened them that all lived in fear of death. But, as soon as news came that fortifications were to be built on the roads by which the Iroquois come, all fears were dispelled.

These fortifications will have an excellent effect; but -- as they do not strike at the root of the evil, and as these Indians carry on war in the fashion of the Scythians and Parthians -- the door will not be fully opened to Jesus Christ, and danger will not be averted from our Colony, until the Iroquois are either won over or exterminated.

Observe the fury of the Iroquois, -- the real scourge of our newborn Church, -- who destroy and burn our Neophytes by arms and fire, and who have sworn a cruel war against our French. They block all the roads leading to our great River; they impede the trade of the Company of New France, and threaten to ruin the whole country.

Father Jogues, if not killed on the field when the Hurons were defeated, is a prisoner in their hands, with two of our French servants and twenty-three Hurons, most of whom are Christians or Christian trainees.

Barthelemy Vimont.

Quebec, this 4th of October, 1642.

THE GENERAL STATE OF THE COUNTRY.

THE first ship that arrived this year at Quebec caused a false alarm, and clouded the joy to which the arrival of the Vessels usually gives rise in the hearts of the French and of the Indians. The Provision fleet, it was said, had been defeated by the Dunkirk privateers, and Sir de Courpon, who was crossing the Channel at the same time, had been captured or sunk; and it was told that all the crew had been killed or made prisoners. This news caused great sorrow to everyone; but, when it was learned that all the ships had arrived safely, the satisfaction was all the sweeter since the sadness had been more deeply felt. The entire Colony has enjoyed good health during the winter.

Sir Charles de Montmagny, our Governor, maintains all things in peace, quiet, and good order. Lawsuits, ambition, greed, lust, the desire for revenge, -- which are the evil spirits of Europe, -- are rarely seen here; our forests are not suitable for lighting their fires.

The crops have proved successful; some residents now harvest more than they require for the food of their families and of their cattle, which thrive well in this country. The time will come when all will have food. The seasons for cultivating the soil here are shorter than in France, although we are on the same degree of latitude as La Rochelle.

Tender and delicate maidens, who dread a snowflake in France, are not frightened when they see mountains of them here. A Frost would, in their well-closed houses, give them a cold; while a severe and long winter, armed with snow and ice from head to foot, does them no other harm than to keep them in good appetite. Your damp and clinging cold is troublesome; ours is sharper, but it is calm and clear, and, to my mind, more agreeable, although more severe.

We have four dwellings or residences here. Our Reverend Father Superior and father Jacques de la Place have usually lived at Quebec; father Enemond Masse and father Anne Denoue at Notre Dame des Anges; Father Jean de Brebeuf, father de Quen, and father Joseph du Peron, at St. Joseph; father Jacques Buteux and father Joseph Poncet at Three Rivers. All our fathers and Brothers have enjoyed pleasant and undisturbed health.

To understand the good or bad state of the country it is necessary to consider not only the French, who constitute the soundest part of it, but also the Indians who are our friends, and those who are our enemies. Our enemies, whom we call Iroquois, have, as usual, acted like fiends. They have been in the field Winter, Spring, and Summer. They have massacred many Hurons and many Algonquins; they have captured Frenchmen, and have killed some of them. They hold one of our fathers as a prisoner; some of their own people have been put to death. If we do not have peace with these Indians or if we do not destroy them, the country will not be in a state of safety; the door will always be closed to Jesus Christ in the Nations which dwell higher up; and the roads will always be infested by these imps.

THE GOOD ACTIONS AND GOOD SENTIMENTS OF THE NEW CHRISTIANS.

Easter Sunday generally falls at the time when the Indians secure their supply of Elk meat. Some of them were so anxious to receive communion on that great day that they left their hunting grounds, and the place where they were drying the flesh, and came straight to Quebec, which they hoped to reach on Holy Saturday; but they were prevented by bad weather from doing so. On the following day, we observed them early in the morning on the frozen river, calling out as they came near: "It is on this day that Jesus Christ rose again; it is so marked on our paper. We have come to confess our sins, and to receive communion."

It is a pleasure to see these good people land at Quebec or at St. Joseph in their little Vessels of bark, which they carry on their shoulders or on their heads out of the current of water; they then go to the Church and hear Mass. This done, they replace their Vessels in the water, re-embark, and return without a word to their fishing places or hunting grounds.

When the Neophytes of Saint Joseph heard of the death of the Algonquins slain by the Iroquois, they sought to console those who survived the defeat, according to their old customs, which they sanctified with Christian fervor. They held a great feast, to which they invited all the upper Algonquins who had come to see them. They brought them three words, -- that is, they gave them three presents. The first was given to dry the tears that they shed for the death of their people; the second, to bring back to life the nephew of one of the chief Algonquins; the third, and the finest, was given to win over to prayer those who seemed to have lent ear to it, but had not yet embraced it.

These proud Algonquins -- whom God will compel to rely on him by the scourges which exterminate them -- accepted the first two presents, and put the third aside to deliberate together whether they should accept it, -- for whoever takes a present, among the Indians, binds himself to do what the present expresses. One of the band -- seeing that this present spoke of God, and called upon those to whom it was offered to pray to him, said in a loud voice: "I no longer have a head; I could not pray; the Iroquois, by taking away my head, have deprived me of my mind. When I shall see great kettles boiling, filled with the flesh of our enemies, when my stomach and my belly shall be stuffed with it, then my mind will return."

A small group of these good Neophytes, wishing to show that the Faith does not deprive of courage those who embrace it, decided to go to war with the pagans. Both sides prepared for it in their own way. The Christians relied on God, while the pagans resorted to feasts and dances full of superstitions. They cried aloud, they sang, they yelled, they assumed a thousand postures of men enraged, to excite themselves against their enemies. All started in company. Hardly had they gone half-way when the children of Belial separated from the children of God -- either through a misunderstanding, or through fear of entering their enemies' country. They gave up the idea of hunting men, and took to killing animals.

Our good Neophytes, pursuing their plan, secretly discovered a band of Iroquois about equal to their own forces. They stopped short, and consulted together whether they should take them alive or put them to death, if God gave them the victory. On the one hand, the glory of bringing back prisoners alive dazzled their minds; for the sweetest pleasure that an Indian can enjoy is to drag his enemy after him, bound and fettered, to make a triumphant exhibition of him in his own country. On the other hand, these good Neophytes were doubtful whether they could stay the anger and fury of their country-men which would be vented on these victims, and decided that it would be better to kill them at once, than to earn renown at the expense of the diabolical cruelty that the prisoners would be made to suffer. They, therefore, rushed on their prey, killed those whom they met, and, finding themselves masters of their bodies and of their baggage, fell on their knees and thanked God for the victory. They then removed the spoils and scalps of their vanquished foes, and returned in triumph to saint Joseph, visiting the house of God before entering their own Cabins. This confused the infidels, who had taunted them in their own noisy demonstrations, -- saying that, unless the others imitated their yells, they could never attain their prowess.

We have always been of opinion that the marriages of the Indians would give us trouble. The liberty of having several wives, and of changing them at will, is a great obstacle to the Faith, but it is not insurmountable. Sir Charles de Montmagny, who wishes to give these good Neophytes a high opinion of marriage, frequently honors their weddings with his presence. He has a fine feast prepared on the wedding day, which is attended by many of the principal among our French. On these occasions, we do not neglect to speak of the stability of Marriage, as well as the importance of obeying God. The Captains of the Indians are the first to frighten the newly-married couples against separating.

The candor and simplicity of these good people would be something quite novel in France. When the Priest who officiates at the ceremonies of marriage is about to question both parties as to their consent, if there be any Indian of importance present who is zealous, he calls out: "Stay, my Father, I wish to speak." Then, addressing the bridegroom and the bride who are standing before the Altar, he says to them: "Take care; there is only one more step to be taken, -- if you go any further, you can never draw back. Your word is a bond that will unite you so closely that you will no longer be permitted to sever it. Keep your mouths closed if you do not wish to be bound. If you speak, may your words be of iron, so they may never break. You are still free; no one compels you; but if you speak, we will force you to keep your word. Then, speak, or be silent, as you please." Then, turning towards the Priest, "Go on, my Father, go on; I have finished my speech."

Here is a new way of seeking a person in marriage. When a Pagan Indian wooed a maiden, he went to see her at night, and asked her in secret if she would accept him. If the maid replied that she did not wish to marry him, the young man went no further. If she replied that he was not to address her about the matter, he pressed his suit. As we have vigorously criticized such conduct, the Christians disapprove of it, and they come to us to ask for a maid; but observe how some of them now act. They paint on a piece of bark a young man and a maiden, holding each other by the hand, in the position that they assume in Church when they get married; and the suitor sends this picture to his mistress by one of his friends. Although this portrait may not be painted by Michelangelo, the maiden knows what it means. If she accepts the young man, she takes the picture. If she says that she does not understand the painting, it means that the young man must look elsewhere, and that he is rejected. Do not fear that he will fight a duel with him whom he sees welcomed. He has more spirit than to let himself be dominated by his passion for a maid; to allow oneself to be vanquished by the tyrant of love or the demon of hatred, is weakness. The rejected suitor will go and congratulate his comrade who shall be welcome to his mistress.

CONTINUATION OF THE GOOD SENTIMENTS AND GOOD ACTIONS OF THE CHRISTIANS.

ONE of the Fathers who teach the Indians at the residence of St. Joseph, read out one day a list of the sins to which these peoples are liable before their Baptism. When he spoke of their superstitions, -- of their invocations to the Demons, or to the Genii of the light; of a certain tacit compact that they have with the Devil by means of a mysterious stone -- a good Christian called out: "That, my Father, still remains among us. Let us go into the cabins and look about everywhere; we shall find some of those little Idols hidden away. No one makes use of them before you, but those who have any, carry them with them into the woods. The Devil tempts them, and makes them believe that they will be unlucky if they throw them away, -- that they will not have a successful hunt; and, by this means, he keeps them always in chains."

This man is so zealous for the conversion of the Indians that he went last spring far inland, to a Nation that hardly ever approaches the French, to give them presents, and to urge them to embrace the Faith of Jesus Christ. He had already gone there last year, and had met with great success. This is what Father Ragueneau writes me about it this year: "Our Hurons who went last Summer on a trading expedition to Ondoutawaka (I think that it is the peoples of the Saguenay (Porcupine Innu) where this good Neophyte went) have informed us that, evening and morning, they heard the prayers recited and the same things sung that Charles Tsondatsaa had heard sung by the Christians of St. Joseph."

This same Neophyte, being united to a wife who was as averse to the Faith as her husband honored it, left her one morning, making use of the privilege that saint Paul gives him. Some Christians found fault with this, and reproached him, -- saying that his faith was but lip service, and that a true Christian should never leave his wife. He was troubled, for he could not love a woman who did not love God, and who was of an arrogant and overbearing disposition. He adhered to his resolution never to see her again, having a supreme aversion for her. However, as he saw that some were far from being uplifted at this, he said to his Father director: "If you order me to sit down once more beside her who has so often scoffed at God, and who has so long treated me as her lackey, I will give up my ideas to follow yours." The Father was astonished at seeing such firmness in the soul of a man whose gentleness is not in keeping with the ill humor of a jeering and scornful woman. I pray that God may change her temper. She is now receiving instruction quite willingly, -- admitting that she had scoffed at the prayers because she had a horror of them; but that her mind has changed, and that she has adopted other sentiments. The good Neophyte has returned to her on condition that he will leave her forever, if she is not firm in the Faith.

Another woman, who was blind, sharply criticized an Infidel who scoffed at some Christians. When the wretch saw these good Neophytes embark on a Sunday morning, for the purpose of hearing high Mass at Quebec, he also embarked at the same time; and as they started, he called out: "I have more love for my forefathers than you have." And, indicating with his hand the place where the Sun sets, he said: "That is where my Ancestors have gone, and that is where I wish to go. That is where my countrymen who are wise should go, and not into your Churches." The good blind woman, hearing him, replied: "If you have such love for your countrymen, why did you abandon them last winter to the mercy of the Iroquois? You were afraid of being burned. If you had sense, you would have a still greater fear of the fire of Hell, to which you will go, than of the fire of the Iroquois."

When the Indians returned from their great hunt, one of the Fathers called the chief men together, and told them that he was uplifted because they had put a stop to the disorderly conduct that occasionally occurred among them; but that he was astonished at their permitting that a young baptized woman should live apart from her husband. The Captain under whose jurisdiction this woman was, replied that he had tried all sorts of means to make her return to her duty, and that his trouble had been in vain; that he would make another effort. "After this Assembly," said the Father, "consult your people privately, and ask them what is to be done in such a case of disobedience." They all decided upon harsh measures. "Good advice," said they, "has not brought her to her senses; a prison will do so." Two Captains were ordered to take her to Quebec, and to request the Governor to have her put in a dungeon. They prepared to carry out their orders, and entered the cabin where she was. But she saw them coming and, suspecting their errand, she escaped and fled to the woods, where they followed her. Having caught her, they told her that she was condemned to prison until sense should come to her. As she tried to break away from them, they bound her and placed her in a canoe, to take her to Quebec. Some Pagan young men, observing this violence, -- of which the Indians have a horror, and which is remote from their customs -- made use of threats, declaring that they would kill anyone who laid a hand on the woman. But the Captain and his people, who were Christians, boldly replied that there was nothing that they would not do or endure, to secure obedience to God. Such resolution silenced the Infidels.

The woman was taken to Quebec; but when she saw that she must enter either a dungeon or her husband's house, she humbly asked to be taken back to Saint Joseph, promising that from then on she would be more obedient. Such acts of justice cause no surprise in France, because it is usual there to proceed in that manner. But, among these peoples -- where everyone considers himself, from his birth, as free as the wild animals that roam their great forests -- it is a marvel, or rather a miracle, to see a peremptory command obeyed, or any act of severity or justice performed. Some Indians, having heard that, in France, malefactors are put to death, have often reproached us, saying that we were cruel, -- that we killed our own countrymen; and that we had no sense. They asked whether the relatives of those who were condemned to death did not seek vengeance.

THE PROJECT OF THE GENTLEMEN OF MONTREAL.

A GREAT man, who had never seen New France, felt strongly inspired to work there for God's glory. Having met with a person animated by the same spirit, they shipped, in 1640, twenty tons of food and other necessaries for the purpose of founding a new residence on the Island of Montreal. Last year, they sent over forty men under the command of Sir de Maisonneuve, a Gentleman of Champagne, to lay the foundations of this generous undertaking.

Let us say a few words about that Island before going any further. They count 150 miles from the entrance of the Gulf of Saint Lawrence to the Forillon of Gaspe where the Gulf narrows and becomes a river; 225 miles from the Forillon of Gaspe to Tadoussac; 100 miles from Tadoussac to Quebec; 70 or 75 miles from Quebec to the Three Rivers; 30 miles from Three Rivers to the Fort of Richelieu, now being built on the River of the Iroquois (Richelieu River); 30 more miles from that River to Montreal. So that, from the entrance of the great river and Gulf of Saint Lawrence to that Island, they count nearly 500 miles; and all of that great stretch of water is navigable, -- in part by great Ships, and in part by barques.

The Island of Montreal has a circumference of about 50 miles. It is bathed on one side by the great Saint Lawrence River, and on the other by the Riviere des Prairies. These two great rivers unite and form two lakes or large ponds. At each end of this Island, there are many smaller Islands that are pleasant. The finest, after the Island of Montreal, is the Isle of Jesus.

Another small river flows from inland on the North side, called, by the French, the river of the Assumption, and, by the Indians, Outaragauesipi, which falls into that wide expanse of water which lies at the lower point of Montreal. The whole of these waters, uniting and flowing together, take the name of the great river Saint Lawrence. 37 miles below, -- quite near the mouth of the river of the Iroquois, which comes from the South, -- the great river again widens and expands, and forms the lake that we call lake Saint Pierre, which may be 10 or 12 miles wide, and seven or eight long, and is studded with a number of beautiful Islands. It then narrows on both sides, resuming once more the name of Saint Lawrence River, about 5 miles above the settlement and the river of Three Rivers.

Returning to our Island, the aspect of a fine mountain which stands there has given it the name of Montreal or Mont-royal. Jacques Cartier, the first of our French who discovered it, writes that he found on it a village called Ochelaga. This fully agrees with the accounts of the Indians, who call it "Minitik outen entagougiban," "the Island on which stood a town or a village." The wars have banished its inhabitants.

It gives access to all the Nations of this vast country; for, on the North and South, on the East and West, there are rivers which fall into the Saint Lawrence River and the Riviere des Prairies that surround the Island. So that, if peace prevailed among these peoples, they could land on it from all sides.

About thirty-five persons have joined together to labor for the conversion of the poor Indians of New France, and to attempt to gather a good number of them on the Island of Montreal, which they have chosen as a suitable place for their object. Their intention is to have houses built, in which to lodge them; to till the soil, to feed them; to establish Seminaries for their instruction, and a Hospital for aiding their sick.

On the seventeenth of May of the present year, 1642, the Governor placed Sir de Maisonneuve in possession of the Island, in the name of the Gentlemen of Montreal, to commence the first buildings on it. The men were set to work, and a redoubt was made of strong palisades for protection against enemies.

On the twenty-eighth of July, a small group of Algonquins, who were passing that way, stopped there for several days. The Captain brought his son, aged about four years, to be Baptized.

On the fifteenth of August, we visited the great forest which covers this Island; and when we had been led to the mountain from which it takes its name, two of the chief Indians of the band stopped on its summit, and told us that they belonged to the nation of those who had formerly dwelt on this Island. Then, stretching out their hands towards the hills that lie to the East and South of the mountain, "There," said they, "are the places where stood Villages filled with great numbers of Indians. The Hurons, who then were our enemies, drove our Forefathers from this country. Some went towards the country of the Abenakis, others towards the country of the Iroquois, some to the Hurons themselves, and joined them. And that is how this Island became deserted."

"My grandfather," said an aged man, "tilled the soil on this spot. Corn grew well on it, for the Sun is strong there."

Then we urged them to return to their country, and to inform them of the plans of the Captains who send people here to aid them, promising that assistance would be given them to build their little houses, and to till the soil, of which work they have lost the habit. One of them, named Atcheast, who seems a peaceable man, and who has a wife as staid as himself, assured us that he would return in the Spring with all his family. The others were equally willing, but were afraid to give their word that they would settle here to till the soil, as the dread of their enemies, the Iroquois, caused them too much terror. Not that they do not feel secure near our houses, but they would be afraid to leave them for the purpose of fishing or hunting. Their enemies can easily lie in wait for them and prepare ambushes for those who wander any distance from the defended places. So I have some difficulty in believing that there will ever be a large number of Indians at Notre Dame de Montreal, until either the Iroquois are subjugated, or we make peace with them.

THE MISSION OF THE HOLY CROSS AT TADOUSSAC.

A House should be built at Tadoussac, to which two Fathers of our Jesuits would go down in the Spring, and return only in the Autumn. They would do as much good to the French, who are there all Summer, as to the Indians. They would collect together some small Nations that are scattered throughout the country, and who ask nothing better than to receive instruction. Such a House would not interfere with the plans of the Company of New France, for many reasons. Besides, the Tadoussac Innu, those of the Saguenay (Porcupine Innu), the Betsiamite Innu, and the Papinachois Innu, ask that it be built, -- asserting that the more distant tribes will come in from all sides to receive instruction, and, by the same means, to trade with the French.

The inconstancy of marriages and the facility with which they divorce each other, are a great obstacle to the Faith. We do not dare to baptize the young people, though they may be disposed, because experience teaches us that the custom of abandoning a disagreeable wife or husband has a strong hold on them.

Feasts, at which all gorge themselves, Sorcerers, drums, superstitious songs and dances, are almost no longer seen. The charmed stones that make men lucky at play, or in hunting, are held in esteem only by some stubborn persons, who produce them in secret only, for fear of being jeered at by the faithful. They are even afraid to sing and dance at their feasts, in case they might be drawn towards their former superstitions.

The Indians generally sing one after the other, at their feasts. While one is yelling or singing as loud as he can, the others reply by a deep respiration, uttering this sound only from the depths of their chests, "Ho, ho, ho," -- striking with their spoons or with sticks on their bark plates, or on some other object. They observe the cadence fairly well, keeping good time in their songs and dances.

During the Father's stay at Tadoussac, some canoes put in there containing men of various Nations, who are differently disposed towards the Faith. Some Kichesipirini Algonquins, who are arrogant and consequently averse to God, disturbed the preaching of the Gospel. Feasts at which all gorge themselves, drums, dances, and games began again on their arrival. The Father upbraided the Captain who tolerated this disorderly conduct, even going so far as publicly to side against him. The Tadoussac Innu, feeling that they were supported by the Father's authority and fervor, barred the doors of their cabins to prevent the young men from being guilty of any insolence.

These Barbarians have a most abominable custom. Whenever any warriors or any young men go into any place where there are Indians, they are allowed to visit the cabins at night, and to accost the girls. Although in most instances they merely indulge in conversation, still, as unseemly actions are also committed, we strongly protest against this custom; so that the Christians oppose such immodest conduct. As the Tadoussac Innu did not dare publicly to forbid entrance to their cabins to the young Algonquin men, they made all the girls retire to a separate place, ordering the young Innu men to sleep at the entrances of their cabins, which they closed, contrary to their custom, -- for their cabins are open day and night, having only a loosely hanging skin for a door. They also fastened bells at other places by which an entrance might be accomplished, so that those who were in the huts would be awakened by the noise; and the immoral fellows, finding themselves discovered, would retire without going any further.

If we could build a small house at Tadoussac, all the remnants of the smaller Nations who live inland, will come there to be instructed and the trade of the French will gain by it.

We have always believed that the Faith was gradually spreading in these countries by means of the first Indians who have been converted. The letter that Reverend Father Richard has written to us from Miscou says that we have not been mistaken. He says, in the letter that he wrote from there, that the tribes of Chaleur Bay, whom they call Restigouche (Listuguj Micmac), and others still more distant, all wish to be converted, and to settle down to till the soil in imitation of our Neophytes.

"When I went from Saint Joseph near Quebec to visit them last Spring," says the Father, "I was pleased at seeing a large Cross that they had planted before their cabin. They pressed me to remain with them, to instruct them. They also told me to have workmen brought out from France, to help them to build small dwellings, and that they would pay for their work in furs."

"But who could live with you?" said he to them.

"Why not?" they replied, "especially if they no longer sell us wine or brandy. Write to France, and tell the Captains to send ships here, and not to send us any more of those poisons that destroy us, that take away our senses, and cause us untimely death. Let the same be done here as at Quebec, where it is not permitted to sell this fire water to the Indians."

They had asked that the barque that goes to trade with them should not bring any such liquors. But our French cannot refrain from selling, nor the Indians from buying it, whenever an opportunity presents itself, -- especially the young men, who are guilty of a thousand acts of insolence when drunk. The elders had asserted that they would put in irons all who became intoxicated.

A young man, strong and robust, bereft of his senses through drink, entered, entirely naked, the cabin where the Assembly was being held, defied the Captain, and challenged him to bind or to have him bound with an iron chain that he himself carried on his shoulders, threatening to kill the first one who approached him.

"Alas," the Father writes me, "can you not find some remedy for such disorders? These poor people would follow the example of your Innu if this Company of New France, who control the trade, would prevent any more of these death-dealing waters from being sold to them. I have not the honor of knowing them. Perhaps they have not been informed of these disorders."

Those who carry on the trade with our Indians are worthy of praise, for they do not allow any of those wretched liquors to be brought to them. I do not think that those who sell it ever receive any great blessing from Heaven, since they raise an obstacle against Jesus Christ, by preventing the faith from sanctifying these poor Souls. The Indians have told me many times that they did not buy our liquors on account of any pleasant taste that they found in them, or because they had any need of them, but simply to become intoxicated, -- imagining, in their drunkenness, that they become persons of importance, taking pleasure in seeing themselves dreaded by those who do not taste the poison. Some Indians from that quarter have brought barrels full of brandy to Tadoussac; from Tadoussac, they have come to Quebec, and this year have caused the greatest disorders among our Indians.

THE FORTIFICATIONS COMMENCED ON THE RIVER OF THE IROQUOIS (RICHELIEU RIVER), AND THE WARS OF THOSE PEOPLES.

Sir Charles de Montmagny, our Governor, having learned that his Majesty and his Eminence were sending out men to fortify the country, at once caused the framework of a House to be prepared, even before the ships that were to bring the workmen made their appearance, -- strongly suspecting that, if he waited for their arrival, it would be impossible to lodge them before the Winter at the spot where these fortifications were to be built. While the carpenters were working at Quebec, he ascended 100 miles higher, visited the River of the Iroquois (Richelieu River), and marked a most suitable site for the construction of a Fortress, which should command the mouth of that river by which it is discharged into the great river of Saint Lawrence. He caused the barques bearing what was needed for the purpose to be sent up the river. Hardly had he commenced than the Iroquois tried to stifle the project at its birth, as I shall shortly relate, when I shall have spoken of what those Barbarians did during the Winter, and even again in the Spring, to come to their petty wars on the Island. I say "petty," because they come by bands and by surprise; but this is so harassing that there is no battle we would not wage rather than see ourselves always in danger of being taken unexpectedly by these robbers, who carry on war only like footpads who besiege highways, never showing themselves except when they find their advantage. Let us follow them in their incursions.

About the end of Autumn of last year, the Indians who were at the Three Rivers, fearing the baying of dogs, threw themselves into the jaws of wolves. Not considering themselves sufficiently secure in the vicinity of the French, they divided into two bands. One of these went down to Saint Joseph, near Quebec. The other band ascended far into the country of the Algonquins, where the Iroquois followed and massacred them. Two prisoners, who escaped from the clutches of those Barbarians, told the following:

"Our enemies," they said, "have told us that they came forth from their country to the number of two hundred men, well armed, and divided into two parties. One was to lie in wait, and surprise some Frenchmen near the settlement of Three Rivers; but the death of two of the bravest of their Captains, which happened on the way, was considered a bad omen, and led them to believe that the evil omen would be fulfilled if they went any further. They therefore returned to their own country, without doing anything. The other group marched on the ice and snow as far as the Island, where they surprised some cabins of Indians, killed those whom they first met and took away alive as many as they could to their own country, to become the objects of their sport, and food for the flames and for their stomachs. We were of this number," said the two poor wretches, "bound like the other prisoners. Our enemies put a thousand questions to us, on the way. They spoke to us of those who wear the black robes. They asked us how many Frenchmen had been killed in the fight that they had had last year at Three Rivers. And when we told them that not only had not a single one died, but that not one had been wounded, they called us liars. 'We killed,' they said, 'more than a hundred Frenchmen.'" (And yet there were only sixty-five in that skirmish.) "'We will go back to see them in the Spring, to the number of seven hundred fighting men, to count how many of them remain. As for you, my uncle,' they said to the elder of the two, 'you are a dead man; you will soon go to the land of spirits. You will tell them to have courage, that they will soon have a good company, for we are going to send the remainder of your Nation there.'"

Thus did they scoff at an old man who has just as much malice, but more cleverness, than they have. "The Dutch, with whom we trade," they added, "have promised to assist us against the French; we shall go well armed to see them."

These two prisoners escaped soon after their capture, but here are women to whom the Iroquois granted their lives, and who, after spending the remainder of the Winter with those Barbarians, accomplished their escape at last from their hands and from their country. "Let us hear what they have to relate of their misadventure," says Father Buteux, to whom one of these poor captives told the story.

These poor Algonquins were in their own country, living in huts in the depths of their great forests, in a place where, in all probability, no Iroquois had ever been. That is why they thought of nothing but their hunting, and not of defending themselves against those Barbarians. When the Iroquois came upon the tracks of the hunters, they crept upon them stealthily, to massacre them in their first sleep. When night began to conceal trees and men with its darkness, and to wrap most of these good people in slumber, a woman called out as she was about to lie down: "It is all over with us; the Iroquois are killing us." I do not know by what instinct she uttered those words; in any case, at the same time those tigers entered their cabin, with arms in their hands, and seized them, some by the hair and others about the body. Some who were awakened by the noise, and who tried to defend themselves, were at once slaughtered. The fight was soon over, and the Iroquois finding the poor people already overcome by sleep and fright, bound them with strong cords, -- men, women, and children; and, in less than an hour, were masters of their lives, of their little wealth, and of their cabins.

Seeing themselves victorious, they prepared their supper in the house of the vanquished. Some brought wood, and others went for water. Great kettles were placed over the fire. They dismembered those whom they had just slaughtered, cut them in pieces, and threw the feet, legs, arms, and heads into the pot, which they set to boil with joy as great as the sorrow felt by the poor captives who remained alive, when they saw their countrymen serving as the prey of these Werewolves.

The women and children wept bitterly, and those half-Demons took pleasure in hearing their sad chants. When the supper was cooked, these wolves devoured their prey; one seized a thigh, another a breast; some sucked the marrow from the bones; others broke open the skulls, to extract the brains. In a word, they ate the flesh of men with as much appetite as, and with more pleasure than, hunters eat that of a Boar or of a Stag.

Daylight had approached during this fine feast. When those wolves had gorged themselves on a meat that they consider delicate, they took away their prisoners. A woman named Kicheuigoukwe, who was unable to keep up with the band, was at once knocked on the head. Many men and women envied her good fortune, for she had escaped from her misery easily.

"As for me," said she who told the story, "if I had been baptized, I would have considered it a mercy to die; my eyes would not have been forced to see the horrible sights and unnatural cruelties that they have witnessed. Among all the captive women, we were three who each had a little child, about two months old. We had not journeyed far before those wretches robbed us of them. I shed many tears when they tore from my bosom my poor little son. They took our little children, placed them on spits, held them to a fire, and roasted them before our eyes. If I did not hope that you Frenchmen will wreak vengeance for such cruelties, I would be unable to speak. Those poor little ones did not yet know fire, when they felt its heat. They looked at us, and cried with all their might. Our hearts were broken when we saw them roasting, all naked, before a slow fire. We tried to drag them away, but in vain, for our bonds and those Barbarians prevented us. 'O! kill them,' we cried, 'kill them, wretches that you are. What have these poor little innocents done to you?'

"They had no ears, no pity; they laughed at our tears, and at our fruitless efforts. They are not men; they are wolves. After they had put the poor little babes to death by fire, they drew them off the spit to which they were fastened, threw them into their kettles, boiled them, and ate them in our presence."

Let us follow these prisoners, and see what reception awaits them in the Iroquois villages. When the dismal band reached the great Chaudiere Falls, -- this is a river which suddenly falls into the River of the three meadows, above Montreal, -- a captive woman, observing a spot where the stream was not entirely frozen over, cast herself into it, preferring to perish in the water rather than to die by fire. At first the rapidity of the current threw her out. The Iroquois ran up, wishing to save her from a precipice to cast her into an abyss. But when they saw her at the last extremity, they clubbed her to death and cut off her head, taking her scalp.

While victors and vanquished pursued their route, two young men went on in advance, to convey the news of the victory. A great many persons came at once to meet them a full day's journey. The women brought Indian corn and other food, which they offered to the warriors who had come to a halt on the arrival of these vivandieres. The prisoners, both men and women, were made to dance, and the night passed amid shouts of rejoicing.

On the following day, as they approached a Village, they found a large cabin all prepared; it was furnished with fires and fireplaces, prepared in various places. Some Demons were waiting there for the captives, who were brought tied and bound. A crowd of men, women, and little children surrounded them, rending the air with sounds as dismal to the vanquished as they were pleasant to the victors. When they entered this Hell, they were received with heavy blows from sticks; cords were tied around their wrists, which the strongest among their foes tightened with enraged fury. The pain of this is severe. Their arms were slashed; their backs and shoulders were gashed; their fingers were cut off, -- on some, many; on others, few, -- not with knives, but with scales of fishes, so that the torture might be more cruel, more lasting, and more painful. The poor creature who escaped, had both her thumbs cut, or rather hacked, off. "When they had cut them off," she said, "they wished to force me to eat them; but I put them on my lap, and told them that they could kill me if they liked, but that I could not obey them."

After this first reception, food was brought to them, to give them new strength, -- to torment them longer, and to make them their playthings. They ordered the men to sing, and the women to dance. "They tore and pulled off our garments," said this poor creature; "they exposed us, entirely naked, to the jeers and howls of all their Villages. They made us dance in that condition, to the voices and songs of our countrymen."

Adrian Earimitagousitch was a worthy Christian, a powerful man, who, as if he had foreseen his misfortune, had strongly urged Father Buteux to baptize him before he returned to his own country, "because," said he, "I might fall into the hands of my enemies." This good Neophyte was a prisoner, as well as the others; and on being ordered to sing of women, he, with his comrades, sang only French songs. The Indians were astonished at this, and asked him why he did not sing in the Algonquin fashion. "There are no longer," said he, "any Algonquins. We are now French; the French are our true friends."

"I think," says the Father, "that he meant to say that all the Algonquins were becoming Christians, and that he could express his meaning only by saying that they were friends of the French." They cut his fingers, -- not across, like the others, but length-wise, so as to make him suffer more. He was put to death like a man of importance, that is, with the most exquisite torture. He said to a young Algonquin woman whom he saw, shortly before his death: "If ever you see the French, tell them that I loved them until death, and that I shall remember them at the last period of my life, as well as what they have told me and what they have taught me." The prisoners were put to death in different Villages, and that is why this good woman did not see them all suffer. Let us hear what she still has to tell us of those whom she saw.

The night passed amid joy and sorrow. In the early morning, the poor sufferers were made to ascend a large scaffold erected for the purpose, so that they might be seen by all the people, and that no one, either great or small, should fail to witness the new cruelties that they should be made to endure.

Those Demons armed themselves with torches and fire-brands. The smallest among them applied these to the soles of the feet of the unfortunates, through openings in the scaffold, while the others applied them to their thighs and sides, -- to the most sensitive parts of the body. The captive women were ordered to burn their husbands and their countrymen. They replied that they would not. There was only the daughter of one Awessenipin -- called by the French "the coal" -- who burned the captive men and women indifferently. She imagined that such cruel conduct would save her life; but, on the contrary, it brought on her a more painful death than on the others.

One of the prisoners displayed not the least sign of pain, in the height of his torments and sufferings. The Iroquois were furious with rage on observing this firmness, which they consider an evil omen -- for they believe that the souls of the warriors who despise them will make them pay dearly for the death of their bodies; seeing such firmness, they asked him why he did not cry out. "I do," he replied, "what you could not, if you were treated with the same cruelty that you show me. The iron and the fire that you apply to my body would make you cry out loud, and weep like children, while I do not flinch." On hearing these words, those tigers threw themselves on their half-consumed victim, tore off his scalp, and cast sand, heated red-hot and burning with fire, on his bleeding skull. They threw him off the scaffold, and dragged him around the cabins. In that condition he looked like a monster; he had only blood and hot sand for hair; his eyes and his entire face were covered with fire and gore; his body was all slashed and roasted; his hands were fingerless. The wounds overlapped one another. Such a sight, which would have caused horror to men, rejoiced those Demons, who, as their final act of cruelty, cut open the breasts of those whom they wish to kill, tear out their hearts and their livers, which they roast; they cut off their feet and their hands, which they cook partly under the embers, partly on a spit before the fire; they roast and boil them, and then they eat them with delighted rage. Man becomes a wolf to other men, when he allows himself to be governed by Demons.

They killed only the men and the more aged women, sparing about thirty of the younger ones so they might dwell in their country, and marry as if they had been born there. The two who escaped expected the same torture that they saw the others suffer; but they were told that they should not die, -- that their foes would rest satisfied after having burned them with torches, and gashed their bodies all over.

The fury of those lions being appeased with the blood of their enemies, these poor women remained with their wounds and their burns, without putting on any plaster or applying any other remedy but patience. They passed the Winter in suffering and sorrow, as wretched slaves, daily hearing the bluster of those Barbarians against the French and Algonquins, whom they wish to exterminate completely, so they say, knowing that they (the Iroquois) are supported and armed by the Dutch.

In the Spring, three hundred Iroquois prepared for war, and these women were employed in carrying their meal or provisions. An opportunity for escaping presented itself; they at once seized it, and crept away into the deep forest, losing themselves in the woods, to find their way home again. They had no food for the first ten days, after which they found some wild animals that a band of Iroquois, on their way to war, had killed and half-consumed. They cut off long strips of flesh from these, which gave them much pleasure. They produced fire by means of fire-sticks made of cedar wood, which is common among the Indians. Afterward, they caught some Beavers, and crossed great rivers, enduring sufferings and hardships sufficient to kill men. Finally, they reached Three Rivers almost naked; their poor bodies were all torn by the thorn bushes and by the fatigues of the journey, and their minds were filled with fear and dread of being encountered by their foes, who were beating the country or, rather, scouring the great forests.

As soon as they saw their countrymen, they began to weep. Father Buteux then came up, and they said to him: "Ah, my Father! God has aided us. We prayed to him every day during our captivity; it is he who has rescued us."

That is what the Iroquois did last Winter. In the Spring, they made raids against the Iroquet Algonquins nation. This is what I have learned of the success of their arms. Having gone up to Three Rivers, I witnessed the arrival of one of the Captains of that nation, named Gariaradi. As he approached the cabins, he called out three times in a loud voice: "Ho ho." Having obtained silence, he said: "The Iroquois, this Spring, have killed some of our people, and carried off two families. My nephew is of the number," said this Captain. It is the custom of these People to call out aloud, upon their arrival, the good or bad news that they bring.

Last Summer, -- the second day of August, -- twelve Canoes full of Hurons returning to their country, and taking back with them Father Isaac Jogues -- who had come down here on business connected with the Mission -- were attacked and defeated by a band of Iroquois, armed by the Dutch with good muskets, which they can use as well as our Europeans. The Father was taken prisoner by those Barbarians, with two young Frenchmen who accompanied him. Of twenty-three Hurons, some were massacred, while some were bound and tied, with the Father, to be carried away to the country of those Barbarians who will perhaps make a more bloody prey of them than hounds do of a stag. A portion of the Hurons who have been made prisoners are Christians. Perhaps they will convey a good impression of the faith of the great God to those peoples, who would be won over to Heaven as easily as others if the Dutch, who have settled on the coast of Acadia which belongs to the King, did not prevent the preachers from accessing them.

We were sending, by those twelve Canoes, the modest gear of our Fathers who are with the Hurons, and the greater portion of what they require for their Chapels, for their food, and for the needs of thirty-three persons whom we maintain at that extreme end of the world for the conversion of those peoples. All these things have fallen into the hands of those barbarians.

The poor Fathers will chiefly regret the loss of the letters written to them by several persons of merit. The Iroquois have scattered them about here and there, on the bank of the river, and the waters have carried them away; and the Fathers are deprived of pleasant communications from those distinguished and virtuous persons. The highway robbers have taken this consolation away from them.

Eleven Huron canoes, loaded with men and furs, that were going down to Three Rivers, stopped at about the same time at an Island 125 miles above Notre Dame de Montreal, to hunt deer and Wild cows. They placed a portion of their men in ambush, to fall upon the animals that might rush to the river, while most of the band ran yelling about the Island to frighten the game.

The Iroquois came unexpectedly, flung themselves upon the men in ambush, and carried them away in a moment. Their comrades, astonished, would have pursued them; but, fearing that their foes were in great number, and were preparing for them some ambush in the woods, they abandoned their companions to the mercy of the wolves, and, dividing into two parties, one returned to the Hurons, while the other came down to Three Rivers to give information that the roads were threatened in various places. Never have the Algonquins or the Hurons so relied on God as now, and never have they been afflicted with greater misfortunes.

That good Joseph, so distinguished among the Hurons, had no sooner begun to preach Jesus Christ to his countrymen, than he was miserably slain during an unexpected attack of his enemies. According to all human probabilities, this blow should have confirmed his brother in his dislike and aversion for our belief. At the moment when we thought that he would storm against Jesus Christ, he asked to be baptized in his name.

Hardly had he become a Christian, than he was seized with a pious enthusiasm, and became a Preacher like his brother. He came to see us down here, and his conduct was that of a true child of God. Having pleased us by his presence, he returned to his own country. The day after he left us, he was taken prisoner, bound, and carried away by the Iroquois. To add to his misfortune, he was taking back with him his little niece, who had been taught in the Seminary of the Ursuline Mothers, in the hope that she would do wonders in her own country. This little lamb was devoured by the tigers.

On the 13th day of August, the Governor arrived at the river of the Iroquois (Richelieu River), to commence the Fort on the site that he had selected. Axes were wielded in the great forest, trees were hewn down and cut in pieces, the stumps were pulled out; the spot was indicated, and the first Mass said there.

After the benediction, the cannons thundered, and a salvo of musketry did honor to this first beginning under the auspices of our great King. Seven days after the first stroke had been given, while all were engaged in erecting a palisade for protection against the enemy, a band of three hundred Iroquois stole like thieves through the forest and gave plenty of occupation. Had not the Governor been present, all the workmen would have been cut to pieces. The Indians divided themselves into three parties, and, although they saw three barques at anchor, they rushed upon us with so unusual fury that it seemed as if they would carry everything at the first onset. At once, all rushed to arms. A Corporal named Du Rocher, who was on guard, seeing that they were already setting foot in the entrenchment, charges them with some Soldiers, and bravely repulses them. The balls from the muskets whistle on all sides. The Governor, who was on the water, aboard his Brigantine, is conveyed ashore in a boat, as quickly as possible, and enters the redoubt, which was not yet in a good state of defense.

Our Frenchmen were astonished at seeing the courage and resolution of enemies who, in the minds of those who do not know them, pass for being timid, but who perform deeds of the utmost boldness; but their attack was bravely repelled. A tall Iroquois, -- wearing a headdress or a sort of crown of deer skin, dyed scarlet, and enriched with a collar of wampum beads, -- who advanced too far was smitten to the earth quite dead, by a volley of musketry. Another received seven leaden balls in his shield, and as many in his body. Our Frenchmen, full of courage, charged with such fury that they drove back the Indians. One of these, who was severely wounded, threw down his musket and fled; another abandoned all his weapons; several dropped their shields, trusting more to their feet for safety than to their shields.

They, still, accomplished their retreat in good order, entrenching themselves in a Fort that they had secretly built, 2 miles above us. Hatchets and other weapons were afterward found, which the wounded had left behind, with the blood that reddened their tracks. Our Soldiers praised their bravery, not thinking that people who are called savages could use their weapons so well. One Iroquois went so far as to set foot on a barque; others fired into the redoubt through the loopholes. A Corporal named Des lauriers was killed; Sir Martial, the Secretary of the Governor, received a musket shot in the shoulder. Three other Frenchmen were wounded; one received a blow which pierced from one cheek to the other.

This assault, which lasted quite a long while, had two good effects. The first was to stop those Barbarians, and to prevent them, not only from coming to carry off our Christian Indians from our doors, but also from coming to surprise the Hurons and Algonquins who pass down the great river daily to visit us. In the second place, our Soldiers learned that they had to be Constantly on their guard against an enemy who pounces like a bird on its prey, who wars like a robber, and who attacks like a brave man.

We communicated the news of what had happened to the Indians assembled at Three Rivers. The spoils of the enemy were exhibited to them, and they were informed that the object of the King in erecting those fortifications was merely to defend those who receive our holy Faith; that those great Captains obeyed God, and that they honored prayer; that they required nothing from the country of the Indians; that the sole idea that they had in giving them this help was to make them acknowledge and worship the God of Heaven and of earth.

A Captain addressed us, and said: "This time you are our friends, since you have defeated our enemies. Until now, I almost believed that you had some secret communication with the Iroquois; but the blood that your arms have drawn from their veins condemns my words." On the following day, this man, who was formerly wicked and a great enemy of the Faith, came to us and said: "I am going to seek the Captain of the Kichesipirini Algonquins. If my ears have been closed until now, they will subsequently be opened. My mouth has more wickedness than my heart had. In the depth of my soul, I found that what you taught was good, but I could not submit myself to it. I wish to embrace prayer."

Finally, this place will now be an abode of safety. When the Iroquois returned to their own country, they painted their victories on the trees along the mouth of their River, -- they set up on its banks the heads of those whom they had massacred; they made rough drawings of the faces of their prisoners. The picture of poor Father Isaac Jogues appeared there among the others. But now we see there a great cross; it is a high Cross that the Governor had erected over the ruins of their trophies, on the day of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross.

After the capture of Father Isaac Jogues by the enemy, with two young Frenchmen, an Algonquin made this speech to Father Jacques Buteux: "This time we will see whether the Iroquois fear you; whether they are afraid of your muskets; whether they dread your cannons, or whether they despise you. As soon as your Brother reaches their country, the Captains will assemble, and, if the French name frightens them, they will say: 'Let us not eat the flesh of the Frenchmen; that flesh is not good food, -- it is a poison that will kill us if we taste it. Let us take them back to their brothers and countrymen.' That is what they will say if they fear you; and in the Spring they will bring back your Brother and the two Frenchmen whom they hold captive. If, on the contrary, they despise you, they will call out, on the arrival of your Brother and of the Frenchmen who accompany him: 'Let us eat, let us see how the flesh of the French tastes; let us swallow them all whole.' Then they will burn them; they will make them suffer a thousand torments; they will cut them in pieces and throw them by quarters into great kettles; they will eat them with pleasure; everyone will want to taste them. And when they are full, they will say: 'That is good meat; that flesh is delicate; we must eat some.' A Captain will lecture, and incite the young men to go and hunt Frenchmen, so as to have similar feasts in their country. Then there will not be any French dwelling near which they will not lie in ambush, to surprise and carry them off."

CUSTOMS AND SUPERSTITIONS OF THE INDIANS.

THERE are Indians who bear as many names as the various titles and diverse qualities with which some Europeans are encumbered. As in France there are names peculiar to men, and others to women, so, among the Indians, the name of a man is not given to a woman. It seems as if nature had taught this distinction to all the nations of the earth.

These names are mostly derived from natural things; as, for instance, from animals, from Fishes, from the Seasons, -- from every thing that affects the senses. One will call himself Arimouchtigwan, "the Dog's head:" another, Dechinkinagadich, "a small shield;" a third, Oumithikens, "the Thorn," and so on.

A child's name is given to him shortly after his birth. When he passes from childhood to adolescence, he changes his name as the Romans changed their robes. He takes another name when he attains manhood, and still another in old age; so that they change their names according to their ages. When they escape a danger or recover from an illness, they take a name which they think will be of better omen than the one they had. The Sorcerers or fortune tellers will sometimes make a sick man change his name, thinking that death, or the Manitou that tried to attack the man, will no longer know him under a new name. They believe that there are unlucky names, and others that are lucky. A dream is sufficient to make a man change his name.

It has often been said that the dead were brought back to life by making the living bear their names. This is done for several reasons, -- to revive the memory of a brave man, and to incite him who shall bear his name to imitate his courage; to take revenge upon the enemies, for he who takes the name of a man killed in battle binds himself to avenge his death; to assist the family of a dead man, because he who brings him back to life, and who represents him, assumes all the duties of the deceased, feeding his children as if he were their own Father -- in fact, they call him their Father, and he calls them his children. Mothers or other relatives who love a son, or a daughter, or any of their relatives, cause such persons to be resuscitated, through a desire to see them close by them, -- transferring the affection that they felt for the deceased to the persons who take their names. This ceremony takes place at a solemn feast in the presence of many guests. He who brings back the dead to life gives a present to him who is to take his place. He sometimes hangs a collar of wampum beads around his neck. If he who is to take his place accepts, he takes the name of the deceased, and begins to dance before all the others, as a mark of rejoicing.

A man who loved his wife -- or a wife who loved her husband -- and who respects her relatives, will sometimes remain three years without remarriage, to show his love. But if he marries again shortly after her death, without coming to an agreement with the friends of the deceased, the nearest of her relatives will rob him and strip him of all he possesses at their first meeting; and that man will allow all his property to be taken from him without saying a word, for such is the custom of the country.

Presents conclude all the affairs of the country. They dry up tears; they appease anger; they open the doors of foreign countries; they deliver prisoners; they bring the dead back to life; one hardly ever speaks or answers, except by presents. That is why, in the speeches, a present passes for a word. Presents are given to excite men to war; to urge them to make Peace; to attract a family or a nation to come and reside near you; to satisfy or indemnify those who have suffered an injury or received a wound, especially if blood has been shed. The presents given on account of the death of a man who has been killed are numerous. And observe that it is not usually the assassin who gives them, but his relatives, his village, or his nation, according to the quality or condition of the person who has been put to death.' Do not imagine, however, that this proceeding gives any liberty to violent persons to do an evil deed; the trouble caused by a murderer to an entire community exercises a powerful restraint over them. Besides, if any relatives of the deceased come across the murderer before satisfaction has been given, they put him to death at once, without any form of trial.

Presents speak; they all have their meaning. Those who deliver a prisoner of war, give him three gifts; such, for instance, as three collars of wampum beads, to break the bonds that tied him, -- one by the Legs, another by the arms, and the third by the middle of the body.

If any strange Indians pass by the land of a Captain who has recently died, and has not yet been brought back to life, they are stopped and told that the body of the deceased is crossing the River; this means that presents must be given to raise him up, to give him a free passage, and to dry the tears of his friends.

They have natural medicines which may be called internal and external: those that are internal consist of potions that they obtain from plants, without compounding or mixing them. For instance, they strip small branches from a species of Fir, which they boil, and then drink the sap or juice, which serves as an emetic. They do the same with the branches of Cedar; with a small root, like the French turnip; with other small branches of a bitter tree; with a species of wild sorrel; and with other plants, of which we have no knowledge.

Here are some of their external remedies. If they have a tumor at any spot, they employ a sort of incising, cutting into the affected part with a knife; for they cannot believe that, to cure the head, one must bleed the arm. Sometimes they apply herbs or roots to the incised part, to serve as an astringent ointment, when sufficient blood has flowed.

Here is an invention which has not yet been discovered in France. A man who had lost one of his eyes, through inflammation, cured himself in this way. He tore out that eye, and put the eye of an Eagle in its place. But, as it did not quite fill the cavity, he changed it for the eye of a Turtle. As the turtle eye was dim, and made him see objects imperfectly, he threw it away and used the eye of a Loon (this is a River bird). This eye was so keen that it enabled him to see the bottom of the lakes and rivers over which he paddled, and showed him all the fishes, both great and small, that were in them. When he passed over the great depths of water, the frightful distance from his little canoe to the bottom of those depths inspired him with such terror that he was forced to discard that bird's eye, and to take the eye of his Dog, which suited him so well that he used it for the rest of his days, with as much ease as his own natural eye. It was a blind woman who told this story of her Grandfather.

The Report of 1634 states that the Indians imagine that the Moon is wedded to the Sun; that she has borne him a son; and that, when she takes the son in her arms, she appears Eclipsed. Others say that she suffers great pain and is in danger of death when she appears in that shadow. Some of them dance and sing, to give her relief. They consider Eclipses as omens of mortality, of war, or of sickness; but this omen does not always precede the evil that it predicts. Sometimes it follows it, for the Indians who saw the Eclipse of the Moon that appeared this year, 1642, said that they were no longer astonished at the massacre of their people by the Iroquois during the winter. They had before them the token and the sign of it, but a little too late to put them on their guard.

In connection with that Eclipse, this is what those say who observed it at Quebec, at St. Joseph, and at Three Rivers. On the 4th of April, at about half past seven in the evening, the Moon began to be covered, and the Eclipse was complete at about a quarter to nine. It remained in that condition until a quarter past ten in the evening, and then gradually commenced to be visible.

THE MISSION OF THE HURONS FROM JUNE, 1641, TO JUNE, 1642. SENT TO REVEREND FATHER JEAN FILLEAU, PROVINCIAL OF THE JESUITS IN THE PROVINCE OF FRANCE. FROM SAINT MARIE AMONG THE HURONS, 10TH OF JUNE, 1642. JEROME LALLEMANT.

THE STATE OF THE COUNTRY AND OF CHRISTIANITY

THE scourges of God have fallen, one after the other, upon this poor Barbarous People; the terror and dread of War have followed the fatal diseases which in previous Years caused mourning and desolation everywhere. Of the troops raised to fight the Enemy in his own country, some were scattered because of the disunion that existed among them; others were put to flight; some perished almost to a man in the ambushes prepared for them; nearly all their expeditions have ended only in disaster.

Various parties of the enemy, who have crept into the Country under the cover of the woods and of night, have everywhere and at almost all seasons of the Year committed massacres which are all the more to be dreaded since no one feels safe from them. Even women, and children at the breast, are not in security within sight of the palisades of their own Villages. Further, a foe will sometimes be brave enough -- quite naked, and with only a hatchet in his hand -- to go alone at night into the Cabins of a Village; then, after murdering some of those who are sleeping there, he will take to flight as his only defense against a hundred or two hundred persons who will pursue him for one or two entire days.

Besides, when our Hurons go down to Three Rivers or to Quebec, to convey their Beaver skins there, although the whole length of the road is full of rapids and precipices, on which they are frequently wrecked, they still fear the dangers of water much less than those of fire. For every Year the Iroquois prepare new ambushes for them, and, if they take them alive, they wreak on them all the cruelty of their tortures. And this evil is almost without remedy; for, besides the fact that, when they are going to trade their furs, they are not equipped for war, the Iroquois now use firearms, which they buy from the Dutch, who dwell on their Shores. A single discharge of fifty or sixty muskets would be sufficient to cause terror to a thousand Hurons who might be going down together, and make them the prey of a hostile Army lying in wait for them as they pass.

We hope that Heaven will remove these great Mountains, which in a few Years would not only put an end to all the trade of the Hurons with our French, but also to the spread of the Gospel. At least, we have received information from France that those to whom God has given power to carry out all that they undertake, and whose piety extends beyond the boundaries of Europe, sometimes think of the necessities of this Country, and look upon the Salvation of these poor Peoples as a Work worthy of their attention, since it has cost as dear to the Savior of our Souls as the conversion of the other Nations of the Earth.

Our Indians, although they are Barbarians, have yet learned from the book of Nature, how to maintain and defend themselves against their Enemies. They have trustworthy agents in their pay among foreign Nations, who inform them of the plots that are laid against them, of the Armies that are in the field, and of the routes that they will follow. But the custom of the Country requires that he who gives this information should send a present of some value, to vouch for the truth of his words.

In accordance with this custom, which is followed among these Peoples, the Governor considered that the presents that had been made in the past to the Hurons who came down to Trade were given solely on account of the alliance that we sought with them; and he judged, last Summer, that the presents which he would give them would have a better effect if they were given as a token that the Truths which we preach to them are most certain. Indeed, never have gifts been of such advantage to the Faith; for, -- in addition to the fact that, when the Canoes returned, the whole Country, on learning what had happened down there, conceived the idea that the matters that we come to announce to them are received throughout the World as well-established Truths (which some frequently doubted, because, they said, the first Frenchmen whom they had known had said nothing to them about God), -- we have derived from them this further benefit, that never have we had larger Audiences in all the Villages and Cabins where we have gone to teach these Peoples.

THE HOUSE OR PERMANENT RESIDENCE OF SAINT MARIE.

We have numbered this Year here among the Hurons, fourteen Priests of our Jesuits; but we hardly ever meet all together for a whole month at a time. We are generally scattered, especially during Winter, which is the most important season of work for the Conversion of these Peoples. Eight of the number found their employment in the four principal Huron Missions which we have been able to maintain this Year. The Algonquins who dwell here, near our Hurons, have occupied the attention of three others. Our Fathers being therefore distributed, each having charge of the Mission that has fallen to his share, I have been obliged to join them, sometimes for a month at one place, then in another, as the occasion presented it self; therefore, I have had no fixed abode. Consequently, the are of this Residence has been shared by the only two who remained -- Father Isaac Jogues and Father Francois du Peron.

It is a consolation to all our Missionaries, after the fatigues of the Winter or of the Summer, to return to this House, to give some attention to themselves, and to breathe a little more freely, so they may return afterward to the same work with renewed vigor. Also, they derive marked benefit from the Conferences that they hold, not only in the enlightenment and the methods to facilitate the Conversion of the Indians, but in the new knowledge they have acquired for their advancement in a Language in which one must be both Teacher and Pupil at the same time.

As this House is the centre of the Country, it frequently receives the Christians who come to it from various places, to perform their Devotions in more quiet than in the Villages. For that purpose, we have prepared for them a Refuge or Cabin of bark, giving us the means of lodging and feeding these good Pilgrims in their own Country. During the Summer, every two weeks, there are always a good number who come to it on Saturday, from a distance of 10 or 12 miles, to pass the Sunday in a devout manner, leaving only on Monday morning. On the following Sunday, we save them this trouble; for our Fathers go to their houses a day or two beforehand, to prepare them for the Devotions of that holy Day. And so, by these alternate visits, we maintain them in the practice of Christianity, of which during the Winter, while we reside more constantly with them, we try to give them more substantial knowledge.

The number of persons who have received baptism has exceeded one hundred and twenty.

The man of greatest importance among those whom we have solemnly Baptized in this house, has been one Ahatsistcari of the village of St. Joseph. His courage and his Yearly exploits against the Enemies cause him to be looked upon as the chief Warrior in the Country. It is not yet a year since, having encountered three hundred Iroquois, he put them all to flight, and made some of them prisoners, although on his side there were but fifty, of whom he was the chief. And during the previous Summer, while crossing a great lake which separates the Hurons from their Enemies, having perceived a number of large Canoes filled with Iroquois who were coming to attack him, his Companions thought of nothing but flight, but he said: "No, no, my Comrades. Let us attack them ourselves".

As they approached each other, he jumped, alone and quite naked, into a large Canoe full of Foes, split open the head of the first one that he met, threw two others into the water, into which he himself leaped, overturning the Canoe and all who were in it. Then swimming with one hand, he killed and massacred with the other all who came near him. So unexpected a sight filled the other Canoes of the Enemy with fear; and they, finding themselves vanquished by their own conquest, even before they had fought, took to flight. But he, having regained his own Canoe, pursued those who remained in the water, and brought them back in triumph to his Country. This Man's life is only a series of combats, and from his childhood his thoughts have been only of war.

"Even before you came to this Country", he said to one of our Fathers, "I had escaped from a great many perils in which my Companions perished. I saw that it was not I who extricated myself from these dangers. I had this thought, that some more powerful Spirit, who was unknown to me, gave me favorable aid; I was convinced that all that was only nonsense, but I knew no more about it. When I heard of the Greatness of God and of what Jesus Christ had done when he was on Earth, I recognized him as the being who had preserved me; and decided to honor him all my life. When I went to war, I recommended myself to him night and morning. It is to him that all my victories are due; he it is in whom I believe; and I ask you for Baptism, so that he may have pity on me after my death."

Was it possible to refuse such a Man? We Baptized him publicly, with some others, on Holy Saturday, and gave him the name of Eustache. When he had performed his Devotions on Easter Sunday, he started for the War with some of our best Christians, who had remained solely for the purpose of celebrating that holy Day, although the Troops whom they were to join had already departed. But, before separating, finding that a considerable number of persons were assembled there belonging to various Nations, they wished to hold a Council.

Here are the resolutions that they took:

"Let us subsequently be but one body and one mind, since we all serve the same Master. Whenever any of us passes by a Village in which a Christian dwells, let him not lodge elsewhere."

"Let us inform our Relatives who are not of the same Faith as we, even if they be our fathers and our children, that we do not wish our bones to be mingled together after our death, since our Souls will be eternally separated, and our affection will not continue beyond this life".

If there be anything in the world that is Sacred among the Hurons, it is their law of Burial. Their care in this matter exceeds anything that is done in France. They are singularly lavish in proportion to their means, and plunder themselves to clothe their Dead and to preserve carefully the bones of their Relatives, so they may repose after their death in the same spot.

Last Summer, some Prisoners of war were divided throughout the Country in order that each Nation might revenge itself upon these unfortunate Victims for the still recent loss of their Relatives, which inflamed their cruelty. Our Fathers hurried to them without delay. Some went to the Village of la Conception; others to that of saint Michel; others proceeded still further, and after a journey of 32 or 35 miles through that part of the Huron Country which the ferocity of the Iroquois rendered most dangerous, they arrived by day, barely an hour before the execution.

They had to force a passage through the crowd, receiving insults, and hearing a thousand blasphemies, from a band of impious men who were opposed to the happiness of their Enemies and who wished to make them endure as much torment in their Souls as they inflict on their bodies. All these unfortunate Captives soon opened their hearts to the news of Paradise. The fires, the pain from which they already felt, inspired them with still greater dread of the flames of Hell.

At the same time, nearly the whole Country was incensed against us. We were denounced on all sides as Traitors, and doubtless there was good reason for believing it. During the previous Winter Father Jean de Brebeuf had gone on a Mission to the Neutral Nation, and the rumor had spread that on that journey the Enemies had treated secretly with him, and had bribed him by presents, and that in due time the disastrous effects of this treachery would be felt. On his return from that Mission, we were compelled to send the same Father to Quebec. To that end, we manned two Canoes with four Frenchmen and six Indians, both Christians and Christian trainees, who, being the first to go down the River, fortunately escaped three encounters with Iroquois bands, in which five Canoes of Hurons who followed a day or two after were attacked. The vague rumors of these occurrences caused them to regard as certainly true the suspicions aroused during the Winter, which had already agitated their minds. But this was still more the case when, some time afterward, a wretched Huron, who had burned his bonds and escaped from the hands of the Iroquois, asserted publicly that he had heard from the mouths of the Enemies the secret understanding that they had with us. He even added that Father de Brebeuf had spoken to them when he met them; had received new presents from them, as a reward for his treachery; and had told them to lie in wait on that spot for the passage of some Canoes that were following him, a day's journey behind, and that these would be a sure prey for them.

THE MISSION OF STE. MARIE AMONG THE ATARONCHRONON HURONS.

THIS House of Saint Marie also bears the title of Mission, on account of four Villages close by, which are dependent on it. Father Pierre Chastelain has had the direction of two -- those of saint Louis and St. Denys. Father Pierre Pijart has had charge of the two others -- those of Saint Anne and of saint Francois Xavier.

At first, Father Pierre Pijart met with stubborn-minded persons, who closed their ears and their Cabins to him and refused to listen to what they heard, except in a spirit of blasphemy. But, in the end, his patience tamed the majority of them, and influenced some of them to such an extent that they know the Truth, and complain to themselves that they have not strength enough to embrace so great a blessing.

THE MISSION OF LA CONCEPTION AMONG THE ATTIGNAWANTAN.

THE charge of this Mission has fallen to the share of Father Francois le Mercier and Father Paul Ragueneau. It is in the principal Village of his Mission -- which bears its name -- that we have gathered the ripest fruits of the Faith that we have seen in this Country since we have own the seed of the Gospel here. It is in this Village also that, for some Years, we have most vigorously carried on our work.

There is hardly a day in the Year on which some Demon does not have special homage rendered to him. But, as among Christians, after each Saint has had his own Day, there is a more solemn Festival, on which all the Saints are honored in Company, so likewise in this Country, after each Demon has been honored in his turn, there is a public celebration in Winter, at which all the Demons are honored on the same day. This celebration is called Onnonhouaroia, or "upsetting of brain", because all the youth, and even the women and children, run about as if they were mad, insisting on obedience being paid to their Demons by making them a present of something which they proffer with an enigma, and which has been suggested to them in a dream.

THE GOOD SENTIMENTS OF SOME CHRISTIANS OF THIS SAME MISSION.

A Christian young Man on a journey met an infidel woman, who solicited him to do what he could not yield to her without prejudice to his conscience.

"You are a bitch", he replied to her; "withdraw from me."

"But what fear you in these woods?" answered the shameless woman, "no one sees us."

"But the great master of our lives has his eyes fixed upon us", replied the good believer, "and it is he whom I fear."

A good Neophyte went to a neighboring village on the occasion of a noted feast, at which the invited warriors excited one another by their songs to perform some deed of valor. When he left the meeting, at a late hour, a woman took his hand and invited him to lodge with her.

"I have already secured my lodgings elsewhere," he replied.

"The darkness prevents you from recognizing me," said the decoy; "it was in that house that you did formerly lodge."

"Yes indeed", he said, "but then I was not a Christian."

God knows which of the two was the more astonished. However, the good Neophyte, fearing that the Devil might tempt him more energetically, decided to make sure of his victory by flight. He left the village that night, and about midnight he reached his own Cabin, where he was not expected until the following day.

USUAL EXERCISES OF THE CHRISTIANS OF THE SAME MISSION.

On the subject of Confession, I cannot find a more suitable occasion to speak of the opinion expressed by a Christian Indian, which has seemed to me to be worthy of mention here. He had been taught that, when sins are once forgiven, they never return, but that Grace lost through sin comes back to us when we Confess. Seeking in his own mind for the cause of this difference, he reasoned as follows: "Grace is like a beautiful robe of Beaver fur, with which God clothes the souls of his good children. When one of our children offends us, we take his fine robe from him and leave him quite naked, but we do not throw the dress into the fire. It is too valuable a thing, and we put it away somewhere to give it back to him when he is willing to obey us. In the same manner, God, when we have sinned, deprives our soul of its grace; but he does not wish that grace to be lost, for it is too precious to him. He preserves it carefully in his treasury, being quite ready to give it back to us when we ask his pardon. But Sin is so hideous a thing that God has a horror of it. When we confess ourselves, he destroys it entirely. Would he place so frightful a monster among his treasures? It is therefore not surprising that it never returns into our Souls, after it is washed away." If this argument be not received in the School, we must excuse an Indian who has never read saint Thomas.

THE MISSION OF SAINT JOHN THE BAPTIST AMONG THE ARENDAENHRONON.

GOD has so far gathered together most of the Christians of this Country in the Missions of la Conception and of Saint Joseph, the two most important areas among the Hurons. Still, there are many, both Christians and Christian trainees, who are scattered in several other places. This has compelled us, although we are in the midst of a settled People, to establish among them a traveling Mission, which shall be assigned with the instruction of these Souls, which are all the more in need of aid that they are deprived of the example of other Christians.

Father Antoine Daniel and Father Joseph Marie Chaumonot, who have had charge of this department, have dwelt sometimes in one Village and sometimes in another, according to the work that they had to do. However, as their longest stay has been in the Villages of the Arendaenhronon, this Mission has borne that name.

Before we had obtained that knowledge of these Peoples which has come to us in course of time, when we saw no worship to any false Divinity, we concluded that their Conversion would be all the easier; because -- as upon a bare tablet, from which there was nothing to erase -- we might without opposition impress on them Ideas of a true God. But experience has shown us that they are full of Diabolical Superstitions, looking upon their Dreams as their Divinities, upon whom the happiness of their lives depends. Besides that, we see that they acknowledge more powerful Genii who settle Public affairs, who cause Famine, who control Wars, and give Victory to those who become most obedient to their will.

In a Country where women and girls have nothing to restrain them; where the modesty which nature has given them as a protection for their sex passes for a disgrace; where for honor's sake they are compelled to dishonor themselves; it is difficult for a young Man who has been engaged in such affairs all his life, to parry these blows when a certain Christian Indian wished to effect a retreat. But in vain did they solicit him. "I walk through the Village," he has sometimes said, "as in an enemy's country. I dread meeting women, as I would an Iroquois. Even an Enemy would cause me less fear, for I can look at him boldly; but I dare not lift my eyes when a Woman approaches me."

In this Country, there are no Names appropriated to Families, as in Europe. The Children do not bear their Father's name, and there is no name that is common to the whole Family, each one has his own different name. Still, it is so arranged that no Name is ever lost; when one of the Family dies, all the relatives assemble, and consult together as to which among them shall bear the name of the deceased, giving his own to some other relative. He who takes the new name also assumes the Duties connected with it, and therefore he becomes Captain if the deceased had been one. This done, they dry their tears, and cease to weep for the deceased. In this manner, they place him among the number of the living, saying that he is resuscitated, and has come to life in the person of him who has received his name, and has rendered him immortal. Thus a Captain never has any other name than that of his predecessor, as formerly in Egypt all the Kings bore the name of Ptolemy.

Therefore, as this election of the Captains, or (as the Hurons say) the resurrection of the dead, is always celebrated with pomp and splendor, when it became necessary to bring back to life the brother of this new Christian, that is, when a new Captain had to be elected, all the chief men of the Country were called together; and we also were invited, as to Ceremony in which the French were interested because it was a question of reviving the name of Atironta, he who had formerly been the first of the Hurons to go down to Quebec, and to form friendship with the French. When the Nations were assembled, they conferred on us the honor of selecting him whom we wished to assume that name and the office of Captain. We deferred the choice to the discretion and prudence of the Relatives. "We therefore," said they, "cast our eyes on that man," pointing out Jean Baptiste to us; "and we do not wish his name to be any longer Aeoptahon but Atironta, since he brings him back to life."

When this was done, each Nation gave its presents, which, according to custom, were differently characterized. Some, as they presented their gifts, said: "May these grasp the arm of the deceased, to draw him from the grave." Others said: "May these support his head, in case he fall back again." Another, giving still a new present, would add that he gave him weapons to repel the Enemies. "And I," a fourth would say, "I make the Earth solid under his feet, so that it may remain immovable during his reign."

On our part, we gave three presents, and, as we produced the most valuable one, we said: "This gift is intended to restore the Voice of the deceased, but a Voice that will no longer be the instrument of the Demons to command forbidden Ceremonies, a Voice worthy of a Christian, who loves and encourages everyone to defend his Country." To these words, the entire Audience replied: "Ao!" which with them indicates a sentiment of approval.

Among the other Villages of this Mission, that of saint Michel appeared at the beginning to be most hopeful. The majority of the inhabitants sought instruction; and it seemed as if the Seed had taken root to some extent. But many received in dreams a command from their Demon to rely on the old superstitions of the Country, if they wished to avoid the evils with which they were threatened; all this good grain was soon choked; at least, the little that remained had not the strength that we wish to see in all who pass in our opinion for firm Christians.

They would willingly believe in God, provided that the Devil would assure them that God tells the truth. "I am quite ready to embrace the Faith, and to become a Christian, whatever dread I may have of it," one of these poor slaves of Satan said to us, "provided my Dream commands me to do so." In fact, nothing seems difficult to them when they have to obey a Dream.

I might say that Dreams are the God of these poor Infidels, because it is they who command in the Country, they alone are obeyed and honored by all. If they have any fears, hopes desires, passions, and affections, everything they, is a result of their Dreams. A certain man had dreamed, while in the soundest slumber, that Iroquois had taken and burned him as a Captive. No sooner was he awake than a Council was held on the matter. "The ill fortune of such a Dream," it was said, "must be averted."

The Captains at once caused twelve or thirteen fires to be lighted, on the spot where they were accustomed to burn their Enemies. Each one armed himself with firebrands and flaming torches, and they burned this Captive of a Dream; he shrieked like a madman. When he avoided one fire, he at once fell Into another. In this manner, he made his way three times around the Cabin; and as he passed, as naked as one's hand, each one applied to him a lighted torch, saying: "Courage, my Brother, it is how we have pity on you." At the conclusion, they left him an opening by which he might issue from captivity. As he went out, he seized a dog that was held there ready for him, placed it at once on his shoulders, and carried it among the Cabins as a consecrated victim, which he publicly offered to the Demon of war, asking him to accept this semblance instead of the reality of his Dream. And, so the Sacrifice might be fully consummated, the dog was killed with a club, and was singed and roasted in the flames; and it was eaten at a public feast, in the same manner as they usually eat their Captives.

DIVERSE MATTERS

A remarkable Eclipse of the Moon appeared to us on the evening of the fourteenth of April of the present Year, 1642. We were unable to ascertain the time at which it commenced, because the Moon, then rising, was still hidden by the woods.

The end of the Eclipse was about eight or nine minutes past ten o'clock. Thus (according to the calculation of Noel Duret, who has computed that Eclipse in his Ephemerides, for the Meridian of Paris), we are distant from Paris five and half-quarter hours; for he gives the end of that Eclipse as regards Paris, as being at a quarter past three on the fifteenth of April.

Last year, we had held a Mission among the Petun, or Petun nation, and had even pushed as far as the Attawandaron, called the Neutral Nation. But -- after having considered how great an obstacle was presented to our plan of preaching and spreading the Gospel in these Countries, by the slanders that the Indians who dwell nearest to us had repeated everywhere, we deemed it more beneficial for now to unite our forces, and not to extend our labors to the more remote Nations, especially in view of the small number of Laborers, until those that are nearest to us have been won over.

We still made some journeys to the mission of the Apostles, for we were not able nor was it consistent with our duty entirely to abandon the few Christians there. Father Charles Garnier and Father Pierre Pijart have made these excursions.

On one of these excursions we met some Captains of the Neutral Nation, or Mission of the Angels, who invited us to return and see them. But in addition to the absence of Father Jean de Brebeuf -- who had had this mission as his share of the work -- at Quebec, where the course of our affairs has obliged us to send him, it seems to us that by working more energetically at the conversion of the Hurons, we at the same time further the conversion of the others.

We are in need of Laborers. It is they whom we call to our help; they are the most valuable gifts that we expect from France.

To be a Captain among them and to be a Christian, is to unite fire and water, as almost the entire occupation of the Captains consists in obeying the Devil, in residing over Hellish Ceremonies, in urging young people to dances, to feasts, to nudity, and to most infamous lewdness.

To be a Christian, and to condemn oneself to die without defense against disease, seems to be the same thing, for all their remedies are either sorceries, or are so full of forbidden superstitions that they can hardly become cured without committing a crime.

Their hopes of success in hunting, fishing, and trading with outside nations, are in most instances founded solely on spells and charms, so much so that they are convinced that by embracing the Faith they would condemn themselves to perpetual ill luck.

Most of the Feasts, which are the chief pleasure of the Country, are so many sacrifices to the Devil, or else some other impiety is mixed up with them. It requires an ardent Faith to banish oneself from them, and to be resolved to fast for a good part of the Year, more strictly than on bread and water; for, outside of these Feasts, their meals consist frequently but of corn roasted in the embers, or ground into meal and mixed with water.

Freedom in Marriages is so great, and the freedom of leaving one another on the slightest pretext is so generally admitted as a fundamental Law of these Peoples, that every Christian who marries is exposed, on the next day of his wedding, to the danger of being compelled to observe abstinence for the remainder of his life. What can a Christian young Man do if, on his Wedding day, his wife should abandon the Faith, and at the same time break that sacred tie? She will at once take a new husband; and were he to burn with passion a thousand times over, he must grow old in chastity without having ever made a vow to do so. The Church has in this case no sword. A woman who would act therefore would not be at all blamed for it by the Infidels.

Finally, there are some hearts so hardened that they refuse to listen to what they would be glad not to fear. "If you wish to speak to me of Hell," they sometimes say, "go out of my Cabin at once. Such thoughts disturb my rest, and cause me uneasiness amid my pleasures."

"I see that there is a God," another will say; "but I cannot endure that he should punish our crimes."

A certain man, who one day found himself pressed too hard by one of our Fathers, said to him who came to instruct him: "I am content to be damned," while dealing our Father a blow with a knife, which, however, merely cut his cassock.

In another Village, a woman who would not listen to God's word threw live coals in the face of one of our Fathers who spoke to her, calling out that she became crazy when she heard his speech.

"No," said an impious man, whose relatives had seized him when he tried to kill one of our Fathers, who had gone into his Cabin to hear the Confession of a sick woman, "no, I will not listen to what they preach to us about Hell. It is these fraudsters who, because they have no other defense in this Country than the fear of an imaginary fire of Hell, intimidate us by such penalties, to save their own lives, and to stop the blow that we would already have struck, had we any resolution."

A Woman one day asked one of our Fathers to come and instruct her, saying that she was resolved to believe.

"That is impossible," added her Husband; "you have so bad a temper that nobody can endure it."

"Faith will change me," replied the poor Woman. "They tame their dogs. When they shall have taught me well, they will easily manage me."

Two young Men of the Village of Saint Joseph, who had been taken Prisoners of war by the Iroquois, had already lost all hope of life, in the expectation of the same cruelties with which they had seen their Companions in misfortune tormented. Already had their nails been torn out, and some of their fingers cut off; already had their legs and arms been scorched; and they had vomited blood from the force of the blows struck with clubs on their loins and their stomachs, when they found means to escape during the night. But, as they fled from one death, they were confronted with a more lingering one, for in addition to their fear, they carried with them an internal enemy, a raging hunger that tormented them night and day. At the end of three days, they were reduced to despair. Then one of them began to think of us. "Comrade," said he to the other, "the French are people who never lose hope. In their misfortunes and needs, they rely on him who has made all things and who is the Master of our lives. Let us ask him."

The other did not see that such a remedy was effective for the desperate condition in which they were placed. But still, as all other assistance failed them, he was compelled to rely on God, with his Companion. "Listen!" they said. "You who have made the Sky and Earth; have pity on us." After this Prayer, they were strengthened, and felt enough courage to continue on their way. After walking a considerable distance, they found some roots in the ground, and ate some herbs, which completely relieved their hunger. "But, Comrade," said he who had first thought of us, "remember that the French thank God after eating their meal."

"Yes, indeed," replied the other; "I have often seen them do so, but it was after eating a great dishful of Sagamite. But as we have only water here, and what the beasts would eat, for what should we thank God?" However, his companion prevailed; they offered their Prayer, and afterward felt stronger. Finally, after a journey of twenty days and more, they reached this Country, where, on their arrival, they met one of our Fathers, to whom they told all that had happened to them during their wandering.

THE MISSION OF THE HOLY GHOST AMONG THE ALGONQUINS, THE NEAREST TO THE HURONS.

The Algonquins lead the nomad life of people scattered wherever hunting or the fishing may lead them, sometimes in the woods, sometimes over rocks, or in Islands in the middle of some great lake; sometimes on the banks of rivers, without a roof, without a house or fixed residence; and without gathering anything from the earth, beyond what it yields in a barren Country to those who have never cultivated it. It is necessary to follow these Peoples, if we wish to Christianize them; but, as they continually divide themselves up, we cannot devote ourselves to some without wandering from the others.

Last year, we had here only two of our Fathers who spoke the Algonquin language, Father Claude Pijart and Father Charles Raymbault. God's Providence brought to them at our doors, during the Winter, the Nipissings whom they had commenced to instruct. When these Peoples left us after the ice had melted, the same Fathers followed them.

If in this wandering life there be greater danger on the water than on land; if sufferings must be borne in these shifting Houses; if, during the heat of Summer, fatigue must be endured in making journeys on which can be found no shelter, no provisions, no furniture, other than the little that one carries with him, and on which one is even obliged in going across the land to transport on his should the Canoe that has borne him over the water.

In any case, the two Fathers remained there all Summer, continuing to instruct those poor Peoples. But to make a Christian out of a Barbarian is not the work of a day. The seed that is sown one year in the earth does not bear fruit so soon. A great step is gained when one has learned to know those with whom he has to deal; has penetrated their thoughts; has adapted himself to their language, their customs, and their manner of living; and when necessary, has been a Barbarian with them, to win them over to Jesus Christ.

Out of many children who were dangerously ill and who were Baptized, all recovered their health. Therefore, the parents, who witnessed this blessing of Heaven conferred on these little Christians, procured this happiness for them as soon as possible, when they saw them in danger.

Toward the end of the Summer, these Peoples turned their thoughts to the celebration of their feast of the dead, that is, to collect the bones of their deceased relatives, and, by way of honor to their memory, to procure for them a more honorable sepulchre than what had enclosed them since their death. This ceremony, among the Nomad Tribes up here, is accompanied by rites of some importance, differing much from those of our Hurons, which may be seen in previous Reports and it may perhaps be interesting to learn some further details about them, which I shall set down here.

The day was appointed, at the beginning of September, for all the confederated Nations, who were invited to that by Envoys expressly sent. The spot selected for the purpose was at a Bay of the great Lake, distant about 50 miles from the country of the Hurons. Having been invited to attend, I took the opportunity to establish closer relations with these Indians, so as to secure better means for the advancement of God's Glory among them. The number of persons present was about two thousand.

Those of each Nation, before landing, in order to make their entry more imposing, form their Canoes in line, and wait until others come to meet them. When the People are assembled, the Chief stands up in the middle of his Canoe, and states the object that has brought him here. Then each one throws away some portion of his goods to be scrambled for. Some articles float on the water, while others sink to the bottom. The young men hurry to the spot. One will seize a mat, wrought as tapestries are in France; another a Beaver skin; others get a hatchet, or a dish, or some wampum beads, or other article, each according to his skill and the good fortune he may have. There is only joy, cries, and public acclamations, to which the Rocks surrounding the great Lake return an Echo that drowns all their voices.

When the Nations are assembled, and divided, each in their own seats, Beaver Robes, skins of Otter, of Caribou, of wild Cats (raccoons?), and of Moose; Hatchets, Kettles, wampum Beads, and all things that are precious in this Country, are exhibited. Each Chief of a Nation presents his own gift to those who hold the Feast, giving to each present some name that seems best suited to it. As for us; the presents that we gave were not for the purpose of drying their tears, or consoling them for the death of the deceased; but that we might wish to the living the same happiness that we hope to enjoy in Heaven when they shall have acknowledged the same God whom we serve on Earth. This kind of present astonished them at first, as not being according to their practices. But we told them that only the hope that we had of seeing them become Christians led us to desire their friendship. After that, it was a pleasure to witness in the midst of this Barbarism a Ballet danced by forty persons, to the sound of voices and of a sort of drum, in such harmonious accord that they rendered all the tones that are most agreeable in Music.

The dance consisted of three parts. The first represented various encounters of enemies in single combat, one pursuing his foe, hatchet in hand, to give him the deathblow, while at the same time he seems to receive it himself, by losing his advantage; he regains it, and after a great many feints, all performed in time with the music, he finally overcomes his antagonist, and returns victorious. Another, with different movements, fences, javelin in hand; this one is armed with arrows; his enemy provides himself with a shield that covers him, and strikes a blow at him with a club. They are three different persons, not one of whom is armed like the others; their gestures, their movements, their steps, their glances, everything that can be seen, is different in each one; and yet in so complete accord with one another that it seems as if but one mind governed these irregular movements.

Hardly was this combat ended than the Musicians arose; and we witnessed, as the Second Part, a dance on a large scale, first by eight persons, then by twelve, then by sixteen, ever increasing in proportion, who quickened or checked their steps according to the voices that gave the measure. The Women then suddenly appeared, and danced the Third Part of this Ball, which was as agreeable as the others, and in no way offensive to modesty. The Ojibwes, who came to this Feast from a distance of 250 or 300 miles, were Actors in this Ballet.

A Pole of considerable height had been set in the ground. A Nipissing climbed to the top of it, and tied there two prizes, a Kettle, and the skin of a Deer, and called upon the young men to display their agility. Although the bark had been stripped from the Pole, and it was quite smooth, he greased it, to make it more difficult to grasp. No sooner had he descended, than several pressed forward to climb it. Some lost courage at the beginning, others at a greater or lesser height; and one, who almost reached the top, suddenly found himself at the bottom. No one could attain the top; but there was a Huron who provided himself with a knife and some cord, and, after having made reasonable efforts until he reached the middle of the Pole, he relied on cunning. He drew his knife, and cut notches in the tree, in which he placed his cord; then, making a stirrup of it, he supported and raised himself higher, and continued to do so until he attained the prizes suspended there, in spite of the hooting and shouting of the Audience. Having grasped these, he slid to the ground, and reembarked to go to Quebec, where his journey led him. This unfair conduct led the Algonquin Captains to make a Public complaint, which was deemed reasonable; and the Hurons taxed themselves for a present of wampum Beads to repair this injustice, which had caused the Souls of the deceased to weep.

After this, the election of the Nipissing Chiefs took place. When the votes were taken, the chief Captain arose and called them each by name. They made their appearance, clothed in their finest robes. When they had received their Commissions, they gave a generous quantity of Beaver skins and Moose hides, to make themselves known, and so they could be received with applause in their Offices.

This Election was followed by the Resurrection of those Persons of importance who had died since the last Feast; which means that, in accordance with the custom of the Country, their names were transferred to some of their relatives, so as to perpetuate their memory.

On the following day, the Women were occupied in fitting up, in a superb manner, a Cabin with an arched roof, about 250 feet long, the width and height of which were in proportion.

Although the Riches of this Country are not Sought for in the bowels of the Earth, and although most of them consist only in the spoils of Animals, if they were transported to Europe, they would have their value. The presents that the Nipissings gave to the other Nations alone would have cost in France 80 or even 100 thousand silver coins.

After that, the same Women carried the bones of their Dead into this magnificent Room. These bones were enclosed in caskets of bark, covered with new robes of Beaver skins, and enriched with collars and scarfs of wampum Beads. Near each Dead body sat the women, in two lines, facing each other. Then entered the Captains, who acted as Stewards, and carried the dishes containing food. This Feast is for the Women only, because they indicate a deeper feeling of mourning.

Afterward, about a dozen Men with carefully selected voices entered the middle of the Cabin, and began to sing a most mournful chant, which, being seconded by the Women in the refrains, was sweet and sad. The gloom of the night conduced to this Mourning; and the darkness, lighted only by the flickering flames of two fires which had been kindled at each end of the Cabin, received their wailings and their sighs. The theme of the song consisted in a sort of homage paid to the Demon whom they invoked, and to whom their lamentations were addressed. This chant continued through the night, amid deep silence on the part of the Audience, who seemed to have only respect and admiration for so sacred a ceremony.

On the following morning, these Women distributed corn, moccasins, and other small articles that are within their means, or the products of their industry. Their chant -- ever plaintive, and interspersed with sobs -- seemed to be addressed to the Souls of the deceased, whom they sped on their way as it appeared, with deep regret -- by continually waving branches that they held in their hands, for fear that these poor Souls might be surprised by the dread of war and the terror of arms, and that their rest might therefore be disturbed. For the body of an Army could be observed descending a neighboring Mountain with frightful cries and yells, running around at first in a circle, then in an oval; and at last, after a thousand other figures they rushed upon the Cabin, of which they became Masters, the Women having yielded the place, as if to an Enemy.

These Warriors became Dancers after this Victory. Each Nation, in turn, occupied the Ballroom, for the purpose of displaying their agility, until the Algonquin Captains, who acted as Masters of Ceremonies, entered ten or twelve in line, bearing flour, beavers, and some dogs still alive, with which they prepared a splendid Feast for the Hurons. The Algonquin Nations were served apart, as their Language is entirely different from the Huron.

Afterward, two Meetings were held; one consisted of the Algonquins who had been invited to this ceremony, to whom various presents were given, according to the extent of the Alliance that existed between the Nipissings and them. The bones of the Dead were borne between the presents given to the most intimate Friends, and were accompanied by the most precious robes and by collars of wampum beads, which are the gold, the pearls, and the diamonds of this Country.

The second Assembly was that of the Huron Nations, at which the Nipissings gave us the highest Seat, the first titles of honor, and marks of affection above all their Confederates. Here new presents were given, and so lavishly that not a single Captain withdrew empty-handed.

The Feast concluded with prizes given for physical strength, for bodily skill, and for agility. Even the Women took part in this contest, and everything was done with such moderation and reserve that -- at least, in watching them -- one would never have thought that he was in the midst of an assemblage of Barbarians, so much respect did they pay to one another, even while contending for the victory.

In this gathering of so many assembled Nations, we strove to win the affections of the chief persons by means of feasts and presents. Because of this, the Pauoitigoueieuhak invited us to go and see them in their own Country. They are a Nation of the Algonquin Language, distant from the Hurons 250 or 300 miles towards the West whom we call the Ojibwes. We promised to pay them a visit, especially since we learned that a more remote Nation whom they call the Potawatomi had abandoned their own Country and taken refuge with the Ojibwes, to move away from some other hostile Nation who persecuted them with endless wars. We selected Father Charles Raymbault to undertake this journey; and as some Hurons were to be of the group, Father Isaac Jogues was chosen, so he could deal with them.

They started from our House of Ste. Marie, about the end of September, and after seventeen days of navigation on the great Lake or freshwater sea (Lake Huron) that bathes the land of the Hurons, they reached Sault Ste. Marie, where they found about two thousand people, and obtained information about a great many other settled Nations, who have never known Europeans and have never heard of God. Among others, is a Nation, the Sioux, situated to the Northwest or West of Sault Ste. Marie, eighteen days' journey further away. The first nine days are occupied in crossing another great Lake that commences above Sault Ste. Marie; during the last nine days one has to ascend a River that traverses those lands. These Peoples till the soil in the manner of our Hurons, and harvest Indian corn and Tobacco. Their Villages are larger, and in a better state of defense, owing to their continual wars with the Cree, the Illinois, and other great Nations who inhabit the same Country. Their Language differs from the Algonquin and Huron tongues.

The Captains of these Ojibwes invited our Fathers to take up their abode among them. They were told that this was possible, provided that they were willing to receive our instruction. After having held a Council, they replied that they desired that good fortune, that they would embrace us as their Brothers, and would profit by our words. But we need Laborers for that purpose; we must first try to win the Peoples that are nearest to us.

Father Charles Raymbault had no sooner returned from this journey to Sault Ste. Marie than he reembarked in another Canoe, to seek the Nipissings at their Winter quarters and to continue instructing them. Father Rene Menard, who had recently come to our assistance, went with him, for we deemed it advisable to retain Father Claude Pijart, to not abandon entirely a number of other Algonquin bands who come here every Year to winter with the Hurons.

The Lake was so agitated, the winds so contrary, and the storms so great, that the Canoe was compelled to put back to our Port, from where it had started; and as the ice formed immediately afterward, it rendered the voyage impossible. Father Charles Raymbault then fell seriously ill, and has not had one day's good health since.

A great many Algonquins landed at the same time near our House, with the intention of spending the Winter here.

A father, who feared that his child might be baptized, had always kept its sickness concealed. When Father Menard tried to enter his Cabin, he was rudely repulsed. He suspected the cause of this, and returned two or three times; but the Barbarian was always at the door like a Cerberus, defending the entrance. While the Father was visiting another Cabin, he felt inwardly compelled to return to the place from where he had been so often driven away. He entered without resistance, and found there only the wife of the Indian, for he had gone out to a feast. He asked news of her child, and she said that it was dead. Finally, after some conversation that soothed her mind, she lifted the robe that hid the little innocent, who was about to draw his last breath; and asked the Father not to approach, because her husband had forbidden her to allow it. That would have been the loss of too good an opportunity for making an Angel of Paradise of this little sufferer, No sooner was he baptized, without the mother perceiving it, than his Soul flew to Heaven, If it was difficult to save the Children, it was no less arduous to give instruction to the Adults, The people gathered here had heard nothing but evil of us; their minds were filled with suspicion and fear; they had received disparaging accounts of our Faith; in a word, they were like persons who have a horror of those who wish to restore them to health. Even if we had gained nothing more than to remove all these suspicions, dispel their fears, and win their friendship, the Winter would not have been so badly spent. Besides this, there is not one who has not been sufficiently instructed; at least, we have this consolation that, if they wandered away from us when the Spring came, they took with them a sufficient knowledge of matters of the Faith to save them, or, in the event of their making a bad use of it, to justify GOD's mercies.

Father Claude Pijart also made some excursions during the Winter, to a distance of 25 or 30 miles from here, to teach some roving bands of Algonquins. But the Iroquois have inspired such terror throughout all these Countries that these poor Christians are compelled to banish themselves, and to live in the woods, until some more powerful arm shall have subdued the insolence of their Enemies. Fathers Claude Pijart and Rene, Menard leave us at the end of April, to return to the Nipissings in their own Country, and to continue instructing them; for that Nation seems of all these Wandering Peoples, the least averse to the Faith.

YEAR 1643
LETTER OF FATHER CHARLES GARNIER TO SIR J.M.J. 1643

My Dearest Brother,

All the letters that were written to us last Year from France were captured by the Iroquois, together with the good Father Jogues and two other Frenchmen. We do not yet know with certainty What has befallen our three Frenchmen whom the Iroquois have captured; still, we have heard from several sources that they were burned and killed at their arrival in the country of the Enemies; and That is more than probable.

We went, This last winter, Father Le Moyne and I, to the Village of St. Joseph of Teanaustaye; Which Village was distressed Last Summer by the death of two Christian men and a Christian woman, who were Esteemed by us -- namely, of Eustache ahatsistari, who was the first warrior of This country, and who was taken by the enemies, with father Jogues; of Thomas sauenhati, who was killed toward Autumn by the enemies, with several others of his village, who had gone to Gather a Certain Kind of Hemp; and of Christine Tarihia, Mother of Estienne Totiri, chief of the Cabin in which is our little Chapel of St. Joseph. But Our Lord gave us This last winter in This village several good new Christians; among Other Neophytes whom it has pleased him to give us, is a Captain named Thomas Tsondakwa, who had been our host for four Years.

The ministers of Satan have taken pleasure in exciting, This past winter, many evil Tongues Against our Christians; they mock them, they threaten to kill them, or at least to drive them from the village; they rarely invite them to the feasts; but These persecutions are what establishes the church of God.

Charles Garnier

From Ste. Marie Of the Hurons, this 23rd, 1643.

LETTER OF FATHER JEAN DE BREBEUF TO THE REVEREND FATHER MUTIUS VITELLESCHI, GENERAL OF THE JESUITS, AT ROME. 1643.

Reverend Father,

Those Huron canoes which conveyed both the reports for this year, and almost all the letters of the Huron Fathers, and certain other things with them, were captured and plundered by the enemies, at the close of this summer, with the loss of nearly everything, and of most of the men. There were eleven canoes; 23 Hurons were in part killed, in part carried away to captivity or to the flames.

Besides, all the merchandise and even our furniture was captured and plundered; most of the letters were either carried away, along with the report, or torn and thrown into the water. Therefore, you will not wonder if either you receive no letters from the Huron Fathers, or only a few, and those torn and obliterated. Though I pass over the other incursions of the enemies, which were uninterrupted throughout this summer; though I also pass in silence the massacre of our French, who were captured and slain in the new post of Montreal, from what I have said alone, you sufficiently understand in what great straits are the Canadian trade and the whole Christian cause, and how great the dangers those must undergo who come down here from the Hurons, or who depart so to go there. And on this account, Father Joseph Bressani, Father Gabriel Druillete, and I shall perhaps be compelled again to stay and winter at Quebec.

Father Isaac Jogues, of whose captivity we have recently been informed, and of whom the Fathers who are with the Hurons write as if he were dead, we have learned, by positive messages through his fellow captives who have fled and come here to us, and from his own letters, that he is still alive, and freely goes about among the enemies, in the manner of the other captives. The Father and those two captive attendants of his, when they first arrived at the habitations of the enemies, were all subjected to numerous and excruciating tortures. The Father's left-hand thumb was cut off, and the forefinger of his right hand was crushed and mutilated; one of the attendants also had a forefinger cut off.

All had their beards and nails torn out, and fire was also applied; finally, however, all the Frenchmen were granted their lives. They now had hope that they might be led back to us, free, safe, and unharmed; but, as the Indians' character is inconstant, their inclinations were changed, after a few days. One of our people was suddenly killed, and their intention of conducting the others home was renounced; and from that time even to the present day, they have not ceased to lay snares for us and just as they do for both the Hurons and the Algonquins.

Indeed, even while I am writing these things, a messenger reports that nine Hurons have been given over to massacre, and many wounded, and all our little baggage, which they were carrying back, totally lost. These articles were most necessary for the sustenance of our people who are there.

Jean De Brebeuf.

From the residence of the Conception, at Three Rivers in New France.

September 23, 1643.

NEW FRANCE IN 1642 AND 1643. SENT TO REV. FATHER JEAN FILLEAU, PROVINCIAL OF THE JESUITS IN THE PROVINCE OF FRANCE. BY REV. FATHER BARTHELEMY VIMONT, OF THE JESUITS, SUPERIOR OF ALL THE MISSION.

YOU WILL NOT this year find your usual satisfaction in the Report, for most of it, which is that concerning the Hurons, was captured by the Iroquois, together with our Fathers' correspondence, in a defeat of 40 Hurons, which occurred on the 9th of last June near Montreal. Father Isaac Jogues, now captive among the Indians, writes to us, on the last day of June, that it has fallen into his hands, along with several letters of our Fathers among the Hurons; I do not know whether he can convey it to you by some way unknown to us.

We have learned that the principal Hurons are beginning to dispose themselves to Baptism, so that about a hundred have been chosen this year to be received into the number of the children of God. At Three Rivers this year, I saw that the Huron Christians were beginning to separate themselves so that on one side was a daily increasing band of believers; and on the other, the Infidels, who begin to decrease in both esteem and boldness.

I send you the Report for this region, which will furnish examples of Virtue; but it must be tempered with the bitterness of numerous evil news, arising from the side of the Iroquois, who, had we not some help from France, would undoubtedly ruin here both the faith and commerce. There is hardly an open passage left for us to reach the Hurons; our baggage last year was taken going up; this year, coming down. At this writing, I learn that it is now captured for the third time on the way upward; and therefore we have to send to you Father le Jeune, as one of long experience in the affairs of these regions, so he may more effectually represent them to those whose thoughts are favorable to this poor land. Such has been the advice of Sir Charles de Montmagny, our Governor, and of all the inhabitants.

THE RESIDENCE AT QUEBEC, AND THE STATE OF THE COLONY.

THE FRENCH COLONY is the only foundation for the conversion of all these tribes: it increases little by little, and overcomes the great impediments it encounters, as the remoteness of help from Europe, the scarcity of laborers, difficulties of trade, and the long Winter which covers the earth, five and even six months, with snow. Despite all these hindrances, nearly every French household now provides its little store of wheat, rye, peas, barley, and other grains necessary to the life of man, some more, some less, some making provision for perhaps six months; others, for only a part of that time.

They begin to understand the nature of the place, and the right seasons for tilling the soil. The work is well started: it still has need of help; but it makes notable progress. Besides, in every household you will see many children, comely and of good wit. It would be a difficult task to state the care and pains continually taken by Sir Charles de Montmagny, our Governor, in relieving the Colony's hardships.

This year, Father Charles Raymbault is the first of our Jesuits to die in these areas. He had managed the affairs of our Mission with much prudence, during several years in France, and the same fervor prompted him to ask that he be numbered with the laborers of this new Church. His request being granted, he was sent four years ago to the Hurons, at the Request of our Fathers there, who hoped to employ him for the discovery of some remoter nations. And, as the Algonquin speech was necessary for this, they sent him, together with Father Claude Pijart, to the Nipissings, an Algonquin people, in which mission, journeys and labors are past belief. There he was seized with a slow sickness, which wasted him little by little, such that our Fathers had to send him down here, for greater convenience of food and medicine. But on October 22nd of last year, he died, after languishing during the space of three months. The Governor desired that he be buried near the body of the late Sir de Champlain; which is in a separate tomb, to who New France has owed so much.

I will now speak of the life and death of Sir Nicollet, Interpreter and Agent for the Company of New France. He died ten days after Father Raymbault, and had lived in this region twenty-five years. What I shall say of him will aid to a better understanding of the country. He came to New France in 1618; and since his nature and excellent memory inspired good hopes of him, he was sent to winter with the Kichesipirini Algonquins, to learn their language. He tarried with them two years, alone of the French, and always joined the Indians in their excursions and journeys, undergoing such fatigues as none but eyewitnesses can conceive; he often passed seven or eight days without food, and once, full seven weeks with no other nourishment than a little bark from the trees. He accompanied four hundred Algonquins, who went during that time to make peace with the Iroquois, which he successfully accomplished; and if only it had never been broken, for then we would not now be suffering the calamities which move us to groans, and which must be an extraordinary impediment in the way of converting these tribes.

After this treaty of peace, Sir Nicollet went to live eight or nine years with the Algonquin Nipissings, where he passed for one of that nation, taking part in the frequent councils of those tribes, having his own separate cabin and household, and fishing and trading for himself. He was finally recalled, and appointed Agent and Interpreter. While in the exercise of this office, he was delegated to make a journey to the Winnebagos, and arrange peace between them and the Hurons, from whom they are distant about 750 miles Westward. He embarked in the Huron country, with seven Indians; and they passed by many small nations, both going and returning. When they arrived at their destination, they fastened two sticks in the earth, and hung gifts on them, so as to prevent these tribes from mistaking them for enemies to be massacred.

When he was two days' journey from that nation, Sir Nicollet sent one of those Indians to give news of the peace, which was especially well received when they heard that it was a European who carried the message; they dispatched several young men to meet the Manitouiriniou, -- that is, "the wonderful man." They meet him; they escort him, and carry all his baggage. He wore a grand robe of Chinese silk, all strewn with flowers and birds of many colors. No sooner did they see him than the women and children fled, at the sight of a man who carried thunder in both hands, for therefore they called the two pistols that he held. The news of his coming quickly spread to the places round about, and there assembled four or five thousand men. Each of the chief men made a feast for him, and at one of these banquets they served at least 120 Beavers. The peace was concluded; he returned to the Hurons, and some time later to Three Rivers, where he continued his employment as Agent and Interpreter, to the great satisfaction of both the French and the Indians.

Sir Olivier, Chief Agent of the Company of New France, having gone to France last year, Sir Nicollet came down to Quebec in his place, with joy at the sight of the peace and devotion at Quebec: but his joy was not long. A month or two after his arrival, he made a journey to the Three Rivers for the deliverance of an Indian prisoner, which cost him his life, in a shipwreck. He sailed from Quebec, toward seven o'clock in the evening, in the sailboat of Sir de Savigny, bound for Three Rivers. Before they reached Sillery, a gust of wind from the Northeast, which had raised a horrible storm upon the great river, filled the sailboat with water and caused it to sink, after two or three turns in the waves. The passengers did not immediately sink, but clung for some time to the sailboat. Sir Nicollet had time to say to Sir de Savigny, "Sir, save yourself; you can swim. I cannot; as for me, I depart to God. I entrust to you my wife and my daughter."

One by one, the waves tore them all from the sailboat, which was floating overturned against a rock. Sir de Savigny alone plunged into the water, and swam amid the billows and waves, which were like small mountains. The sailboat was not far from shore, but it was now black night, and there prevailed a sharp frost, which had already frozen the borders of the stream; so that Sir de Savigny, soon striking with his foot, he felt the ground. Drawing himself out of the water, he came to our house at Sillery, half dead, and remained a long time without strength to speak; then at last he told us of the woeful mischance, which, besides the death of Sir Nicollet, so grievous for all the country, had lost him three of his best men, and a great part of his furniture and stores. He and his wife endured this notable affliction in a barbarous country with great patience. The Indians of Sillery, at the noise of Sir Nicollet's shipwreck, ran to the spot, and showed unspeakable grief to see him appear no more. This was not the first time that this man had exposed himself to the peril of death for the well-being and salvation of the Indians; he did so often, and left us examples beyond one's expectations from a married man, which recall Apostolic times, and inspire even the most fervent Jesuits with a desire to imitate him. Twelve days after their shipwreck, the prisoner for whose deliverance he had embarked arrived here.

Sir des Roches, commander at Three Rivers, had ransomed him, according to the Governor's order. He came ashore at Sillery, and was from there brought to the Hospital, to be dressed for the sores and wounds inflicted by the Algonquins after his capture. They had stripped the flesh from his arms, in some places even to the bones; but the hospitable Nuns received him with much charity and had him dressed with such care that in three weeks or a month he was able to return to his own country. All our Neophytes showed him no less compassion and charity than the Algonquins up there had shown him cruelty. They gave him two kind Christian Indians to guide him to the lands of the Abenakis, who are neighbors to his nation. Charles Meiaskwat was one of those appointed to conduct him back. He was exceedingly glad to make this journey, and to have this opportunity of speaking of our holy faith to the Abenakis and other neighboring peoples.

And so, the entire winter at Quebec passed with its accustomed peace and devotion; but all Spring was one continued season of numerous heavy news from the direction of the Iroquois. Then came the saddest news that could ever have reached us, the death of great Louis the Just, which grieved the Christian Indians equally with the French. But they were somewhat calmed when told that he was yet living in the person of his son, who had inherited his Estates and Crown; and so they went to pray for him.

We received all this sad news on saint John's day, by the Miscou vessel, which came as far as Tadoussac; the other ships of the fleet were later than ever this year, which was a notable increase of affliction to us, and also to the Indians. We were beginning to fear some new misfortune. Finally, God sent them to us, on the holy day of our Lady's Assumption. As we were about to begin Mass, two sails appeared 2 miles away from our port; joy and consolation seized the hearts of all the inhabitants, but it redoubled when a sailboat came and brought us the news of the persons who were there: Father Quentin, with three worthy workers, our Jesuits, and apt for the language -- that is, Fathers Leonard Garreau, Gabriel Druillettes, and Noel Chabanel. There were also three well-chosen Nuns, whose courage exceeds their sex -- that is, Mother Marie de St. Genevieve, and Mother Anne de St. Joachim, Hospital nuns from the house of Diepe; and Mother Anne des Seraphins, Ursuline, from the Convent of Plermel in Brittany. It required great strength for these good women to overcome the dangers of the Ocean, the fear of the Barbarous country, and the persistent words of those who wished to turn them aside in France from so holy an enterprise.

Sir d'Aliboust, an honest and most virtuous Gentleman, associated in the Society of Gentlemen of Montreal, with his wife and his sister-in-law, were in one of these ships: this company landed at Quebec. I was forgetting the piety of an honest Priest named Sir Chartrier, who increased the company, and came to devote himself to the service of the Ursuline Mothers, with the purpose of serving God in this country the rest of his days.

THE URSULINE SEMINARY.

SINCE the Ursuline Mothers are established at Quebec, I will here state what pertains to them. This Seminary is one of the fairest ornaments of the Colony, and a marked help for the detention and conversion of the Indians. The sisters went into their new dwelling, quitting the one which they held by lease, on the 21st of November of last year, day on which the most blessed Virgin consecrated herself to God in the temple. Their building is large and substantial, and thoroughly and carefully constructed. They have discovered an excellent spring of water in the foundations of the dwelling, to their great convenience. They are in a place of safety so far as is possible in Canada, being located from 200 to 250 feet from the fort of Quebec. They have always had a fairly good number of Indian girls, both permanent and temporary boarders, besides the little French girls; and many Indians, men and women, often come to visit them and to receive some help and instruction.

The parlor of these good Nuns often serves as classroom, the Indians from without coming there purposely to see them, and to ask to be instructed, or to repeat the prayers; there are some who have taken the time when the children were saying their prayers or answering questions, to enter the parlor or the Chapel, and join in their devotion. The Atikamekw, who are Innu peoples in the direction of the North, during the time that they stayed near Quebec, often came to visit the Nuns, to hear or learn some good word. The expenses attending these holy visits and necessary instructions are great and unavoidable, and perhaps hardly yield to those incurred for the seminary pupils ordinarily detained after the lesson; it is necessary to relieve the hunger of these poor people. I say nothing here of Madame de la Pelterie; for a year ago from Spring she went to Montreal, to be present at the beginning of that new and holy settlement. The Nuns have this year enlarged their buildings, to have a Chapel, and to accommodate more Nuns and Seminary pupils.

THE RESIDENCE AT SILLERY, AND HOW THE INDIANS THERE SPENT THE YEAR.

THE little village of St. Joseph, called Sillery, 5 scant miles away from Quebec, is composed of about 35 or 40 families of Christian Indians who have settled there, and live there all year, except the times for their hunting; these are often joined by many of those who are still roving, partly to receive some assistance, partly to be instructed in our holy faith. This number will seem small to those who are not acquainted with the state of a roving Indian; but sufficiently large to those who are acquainted, and know the life which these poor wretches formerly led.

The good reputation of the Indians who have gone there, and who there publicly exercise their Christian duties, has spread abroad on all sides; from Tadoussac and Miscou even to the Hurons, nearly all speak of imitating them. These resident families are composed of two sorts of persons, one Innu, the other Algonquins. The Innu are those who reside nearer Quebec, and are therefore called on account of our high mountains. The Algonquins are further back; they are of two sorts, some are Kichesipirini Algonquins, and from various places, extending toward the Hurons; the others are neighbors of the Innu, and are as if mingled with them. The knowledge of God, and communication with the French of Quebec, has rendered the latter more supple and more docile; the others, although nearly all ruined and reduced to nothing, have remained in a strange pride, and have caused us great hindrances to the conversion of the other Algonquins, and of the Hurons themselves, who have to pass through their country, to come down here.

We have, for all these resident families only four little houses, of French construction; to these we are going to add this Autumn two others, begun last winter, by means of some donations which have been given us for this purpose. Some persons distinguished in virtue, of our old France, are the ones who have undertaken in private the advancement of some of these families. We are planning for still another for next Spring, which is to be dedicated to saint Francois; the man to whom it is promised already bears the same name; such is the wish and the devotion of a person of merit, of our old France, who has affection for our Indians, and has chosen this family for the sake of doing it good, and of regarding it as his own. The houses are built half on our side, and half on the side of the Hospital, which is separated from us by a hill or mound about 150 feet wide.

The Innu have chosen our side, the Algonquins have taken that of the Hospital; the principal Indians are lodged in these houses of French construction, the others dwell, in their fashion, under cabins of bark, each on the side chosen by his own tribe, waiting until we can procure for them also some small buildings. The principal advantages of these houses are the little lofts in which they put their provisions, and their little belongings, which formerly became scattered and lost for lack of a place in which to keep them. It has not been feasible to do more: for, in proportion to the houses, it is necessary to aid in clearing lands for those who are lodged. At the start, we had means of supporting eight workmen at Sillery; they are at present reduced to four; and still we hear from France that the amount of the donation of the late Sir de Sillery, intended for their maintenance, is detained in France.

Let us observe how the Indians have spent their years at Sillery. The ships weighed anchor from before Quebec the 7th of October of last year, 1642. Their departure produces a wonderful silence here, and directs each man's attention to his own family, in deep tranquility.

Our Indians of Sillery, and some others who had united with them, continued their fishing for Eels; this is a fertile harvest at Quebec and in the surrounding regions, every year, from the beginning of September to the end of October, in the great river of Saint Lawrence. At that time, they found this fish in tremendous abundance; the French salt it, the Indians smoke it, both make provision of that for Winter. The Indians leave their little houses to carry on this fishing, and encamp a musket range away, so that the refuse of the fish which they prepare may not infect them. While there, they came every day to Mass, although they had often spent the night in fishing.

Their fishing done, which was toward the beginning of November, they returned to their houses, and filled their little stores with smoked fish. Those who have no house, lodge in cabins, each on his own side. They were no sooner assembled, than thirteen canoes of the nation of the Atikamekw came to see them, to winter with them, and receive instruction, They lodged on the side of the Innu, near Jean Baptiste, who is their Captain. Father Buteux, who had come down from the Three Rivers to winter at Sillery, had charge of the instruction of both parties, that is, of the Innu and of the Atikamekw. They lived together, speaking the same language. Father Dequen had for his share, the instruction of the Algonquins.

This is the plan we followed all the winter: Father Dequen went every morning to the hospital, in the Algonquin quarter: men, women, and children all were there. The Chapel and the ward of the sick were often filled. Before Mass, the Father pronounced aloud in their language the prayers, which; each one also repeated aloud. Afterward he explained to them one of the mysteries of our holy Faith. Mass being said, the Father went through the cabins to teach in private those who were to be baptized, or who were preparing to receive communion. After noon, I assumed the charge of teaching the catechism to the Algonquin children. They assembled in the ward of the sick, with as much diligence and fervor as those of our France. The reward for catechism was a knife, or a piece of bread, at other times a rosary, sometimes a cap, or an axe, for the tallest and the most intelligent; it is an excellent opportunity for relieving the misery of these poor peoples. The parents were charmed to see the fervor of their children, who went through the cabins to show their prizes.

Father Buteux has observed the same plan for the Innu and Atikamekw, except that when the Atikamekw had gone a little way into the woods on a small eminence near Sillery, he had to go there every day, when he assembled the men and the women apart. The snows were from 3 to four feet deep. I have repeatedly seen him return at evening -- night having already set in -- with a lantern in his hand, which the wind snatched from him or extinguished, and then overturned him in the snows from top to bottom of the hill. That may astonish those who have known him in France, infirm to the last degree, and nearly always on the sick list.

Toward the middle of January, the snows being already deep and abundant, they all withdrew from the cabins at Sillery, and went to about a half mile from Quebec, to make their sledges there, and to begin their first hunt; they remained there about three weeks.

Toward the end of April, all the Indians again rally together; each returns to his own area and sets up his cabin, prepares his little store, dresses his skins, and comes to instruction, where the same order is observed as in the autumn. When the earth is altogether free from snow, each one visits his field, and begins to till it. But scarcely had they finished planting their Indian corn, when the rumors of incursions and ravages by the Iroquois obliged them to form a small body of warriors, and go to the fort of Richelieu and to the 3 rivers, to confront their enemies. But the disastrous news of the death of the King and of the Cardinal, and then the lack of the aid of arms and soldiers which we were expecting from France, made them return to Sillery, quite sad; and as the ships were late, and as provisions failed them, they broke up into little bands, and went hunting toward Tadoussac, continually removing from their enemies, and awaiting the ships.

THE MANNER OF LIVING AMONG THE CHRISTIANS AT SILLERY.

The Governor, coming back last year from the fort of Richelieu, after the severe and unexpected assault made upon it by the Iroquois, -- in which they were badly treated, -- our Indians went of their own impulse to greet him, and carried two gifts. One was to thank him for having exposed his life for them, and having driven away their enemies; the other, to wipe away our tears for the capture of Father Jogues and our men by the Iroquois.

There arose one day a quarrel in a Christian family between the husband and the wife: they struck each other quite violently. Estienne Pigarouich enters the cabin and speaks to the husband in this way: "Men should have more sense than women, and should better control their anger. A good way to appease a woman, when she scolds, is to say not a word to her, or else to go out of the cabin and let her scold all alone; I have had good success with this remedy. Sometimes I do still better; instead of going out, I give her a lesson quietly: 'Is that,' I say to her, 'what you are taught every day? Very well, be angry: but know that you are taking the way to Hell, and that you will be burned by your own anger.' I often find that she becomes quiet and begins to laugh."

The stability of marriage is one of the most perplexing questions in the conversion and settlement of the Indians; we have much difficulty in obtaining and in maintaining it. A young woman wishing to leave her husband without just cause, the principal Indians assembled, and asked the Governor to allow them to make a little prison at Sillery, and there to lock up this woman for some time, and bring her to her duty. Estienne Pigarouich undertakes this commission, and has her seized; and as she was at the door of the prison, he addressed her as follows: "My niece, pray to God all night; ask him that you may become sensible, and that you may no longer be self-willed. Endure this prison for your sins. Take courage; if you will be obedient, you will not stay there long."

She entered peaceably and stayed there all night, flat on the ground, without fire and without covering; it was the second day of January, at the severest season of the winter. The next morning, Father de Quen went with Estienne to visit her, and saw to it that she was given a little bread, and some straw to rest on. The Father wished to have her go forth a little while, to warm herself in a neighboring room, then to put her back in her cell; but the Indian told him that she ought to endure that for her faults, and he himself encouraged her to bear this penance patiently. Toward evening, still, they Judged it proper to release her; it was enough for inspiring terror in this poor creature, and was a little beginning of government for these new Christians, -- besides, melancholy fixing itself in the mind of an Indian, he comes to great extremities there, and often to a violent death. The punishment sufficed for this young woman, and for several others.

Charles Meiaskwat, while with the Abenakis, went with them to visit the English in their settlement. He took them for Frenchmen, -- the Indians do not yet know how to distinguish the Europeans, either by nation or by religion; Charles therefore believes that he is going to see some Frenchmen. Having entered, he takes his Beads, and shows them; an Englishman addresses him, saying: "It is the Devil who invented what you hold; it is an invention of the evil spirit."

Charles, without being disturbed, looks at him, and says to him: "But it is the devil who makes you speak, and puts his own words into your mouth. You despise the son of God and his Mother."

The Englishman did not know what to say, seeing a man so resolute, who understood no other argument than his own faith. Charles again draws forth a beautiful image; for he is furnished with all the instructions for devotion. The heretic, seeing him, showed him an old rag on the ground, and said to him, "What you hold is worth no more than that."

Charles looks at him again, and says to him: "Believe this, that God sees and hears you. Know certainly that you will burn in hell, since you despise what God has made and ordered." After that time, the heretics left him in peace.

THE MISSION AT TADOUSSAC.

Besides superstitions, the Indians have still other vices, which give us much trouble. They are to the last degree passionately fond of drink, and are easily intoxicated, when they can trade for any; from there follow the indecent sins, especially in the youth. Those who sell them wine or brandy do an irreparable wrong to their salvation. A zealous Neophyte dealt a bold stroke in this matter. The Father, having one day finished his urging, this Christian arose, and asked permission to speak a word to the assembly. "Certainly," said the Father; "speak, -- we will listen to you."

"It is a current rumor," said he, "that the young people are becoming corrupt -- that the men go to see the girls at night; that the girls become wanton and witless; that there are men among us who wish to have two wives. That is not what we have promised to God: we must prevent the evil from proceeding further. As for me, I do not wish to act the Captain, nor the Doctor: but I can hardly restrain my heart and my tongue, when I see that your eyes are closed to a known evil. Those who know those who stroll at night, and those persons who are not content with one wife, ought to declare them publicly."

A good old woman speaks and names aloud those whom she knew. They immediately leave the Chapel; they assemble in the largest cabin, and call the Father there. A Neophyte goes in person to seek the youths and girls who had been named, and others who were suspected, and has them enter. All are questioned; they acknowledge such visits, but they protest that they are only suits of marriage, customary among them. "If that be the case," said our good Christian, "declare your affections to your parents; take their advice and that of the Father. Make your visits by day, and not by night; the faith and prayer forbid us this custom." They promised it, and went away satisfied on both sides.

The Micmacs and Indians of Miscou, whom one meets still ahead of these, on coming from France, have begun to desire the faith. Here is what Father Richard -- who lives at Miscou, together with Father Lyonne, arrived this year from France -- writes on the subject to Father le Jeune.

"Reverend Father,

I thank you for the writings that you sent me concerning the language of the Innu. I have perused them and in them I have remarked much the same fashion of utterance, though the words are quite different among the Indians of these coasts. I have already written to you by Noudagaro, one of our good Indians who is on his way to see his relatives and friends over there, -- for he says that he is Innu. I hope that the example of his fellow countrymen, and the instructions of our Fathers, will be useful to him.

A number of our Indians, not only from this Bay, but from all the coast, are going up to Tadoussac; some particularly of the youth, may proceed as far as Quebec, and beyond, to go to war against the Iroquois.

Do you remember the encounter that you had, last year, with a group of our Indians? Having come here, they reminded me to keep the word which I had given them, of going to see them in the summer, if they happened to be together: I could not refuse them, -- I went with our servant. They promptly built me a cabin, approaching the shape of our buildings, which was chiefly to serve as a Chapel, where they assembled evening and morning to say the prayers which I would begin, and they followed me word for word.

Andre Richard."

Not only the Indians of those areas have heard mention of our holy Faith, but also many little nations of the North, the names of which follow: the Kakouchakhi (Porcupine Innu), those who are at Maouatchihitonnam, -- the place where the Hurons hold their assemblies, coming to trade with the Nations of the North; the Mikouachakhi, the Ottawas, the Mistassini Innu, Oukesestigouek Innu, Mouchaouaouastiirinock Innu, Ounachkapiouek, Espamichkon Innu, Astouregamigoukh Innu, Weperigweia Innu, Papinachois Innu, Oubestamiouek, Atikamekw.

THE HOSPITAL.

Besides the adornment and consolation which it gives to the whole Colony, it serves as a strong support to the settlement of the Indians, and bears a good part of the expenses and burden of that. The Village of Sillery is still small, but I doubt much if, without this house which has been established there, it could have reached the state in which it is; and I do not know yet if it could subsist without this help. It has cost inconveniences to these good sisters; the day's time of a man, which amounts here to no less than 15 or 20 silver coins, has often been employed for going to Quebec in quest of a few herbs or a half-dozen of eggs for the sick; but the desire that they have had to exercise their offices toward the Indians, and to contribute to their settlement, in accordance with the scope of their vocation, has caused them to abandon their building at Quebec, with all its conveniences, as that desire had caused them to abandon France, -- seeing that the French, when sick, have no difficulty in going to Sillery; but the sick Indians are unable to go to Quebec, and therefore it would have been a Hospital for Indians, without Indians. The fear of the Iroquois not having hindered so many worthy persons of both sexes from going to Montreal and other places on the great River, -- though the Iroquois are nearby, and prowl all about, -- it was not likely to have effect 2 or 4 miles from Quebec. Besides, their building at Quebec is being finished, little by little, -- so that, if any accident occurs, they can prudently and advisedly retreat there; and if the French multiply further, they can establish a little separate Hospital for their aid, which would not injure that of the Indians, and would advance the colony.

The Nuns have received and assisted in the Hospital, this year, about a hundred Indians of various nations: Innu, Algonquins, Atikamekw, Abenakis, Hurons, those of Tadoussac and the Saguenay river, and of some other nations, more distant. At the time I write this report, there is a woman afflicted with a slow disease, whom Father Buteux lately brought here, on returning from Tadoussac. She is from a region above, thirteen or fourteen days distant, far within the lands of the Saguenay (Porcupine Innu) and has come on purpose, not only to be aided in her malady, but to know God and see the example of the French. Five or six French workmen have also been relieved in this house of charity; they had been stricken with scurvy, at the fort of Richelieu, and were in danger of dying from it, if they had not found kind help.

The wife of one Vincent Xavier, son of the first roving Indian who settled at Sillery, fell sick a year after her marriage, and languished more than two years. Finally, she was compelled to keep her bed; she came to the Hospital, where she surpassed the patience even of the others, for, during all the time that she was there, she was never heard to ask for anything or to complain, -- except the last day of her life, and then little; although she was of a quick and active mind. She had always at her side a little girl of hers, aged two years and a half; and though she was troubled by sickness, she had the child pray at the usual time, and to instruct her.

When she felt herself near her end, she called her husband, spoke to him with much affection, and then gave him her little girl, whom she would no longer see from that time, -- thinking only of dying well, which she did happily, having received all her Sacraments. Her daughter lived for some time at her Father's house; but, as he went often to the hunt, the poor child remained as though abandoned, -- those who kept her took no care of her. She would escape, and usually enter the Hospital, where the Nuns caressed her, and gave her food. Her Father at last took her to the Ursulines, who received her with all manner of affection; she is there at present, and gives good promise.

A woman called Marguerite had had a disease of the legs for several years, which compelled her to spend all the winters at the Hospital, or in a neighboring cabin. Last Winter, she desired to follow the hunters, to eat fresh meat (scarcely any is seen in the country here, without hunting). Her husband loads her on his sledge, and draws her cheerfully after him every day, over mountains of snow; but, her leg festering, he brought her back to the Hospital. They had great fear that the filth and the stench of her sores might prevent the Nuns from receiving her; but they were soon delivered from their dread when they saw that these good daughters received her with more joy than the others. As soon as she had arrived, she asked to confess herself; gangrene occurred in her disease, and carried her off.

A Sokoki Abenaki, made prisoner by the Algonquins, arrived in this house the ninth of November, last year. As soon as he had landed opposite the Hospital, the Indians of Sillery went forward to receive him with Charity. They led him into all their houses and cabins, one after the other, and made him dance in all, -- but with gentleness and friendship. He obeyed throughout, although he had his body all covered with wounds and sores. After that, two of the principal Indians led him to the Hospital, where he was received by the Nuns with great joy. They call the Surgeon; the whole ward was full of Indians, to see in what state his wounds were. He had all his nails torn out; matter was issuing from three fingers, quite recently cut, and the worms were swarming there; he had one foot pierced through and through with a stick; he had both wrists of his hands tied, even to the bone, with cords; and his body was burned, and pierced with awls in several places.

I was present at this sight; the first view made us chill with horror. He endured the dressing of his wounds without ever saying a single word, or showing any sign of pain; he made known by signs the manner in which they had therefore treated him, without showing any displeasure against those who had put him in this pitiful condition. By good luck, there was at the Hospital a sick Abenaki, baptized, and called Claude, -- who well understood Sokoki Abenaki. This poor wretch was extremely comforted to meet him; and, as he was astonished, at first, to see the Nuns show him so much charity, this good Christian explained to him how their whole occupation was only to aid the poor and the sick, and that they observed virginity all their life. That impressed his mind. He was restored in a fairly short time, and sent back to his own country, to show the affection of the French and Indians toward him.

EVENTS AT THE THREE RIVERS AND AT THE FORT OF RICHELIEU.

I BRING these two places into one Chapter, because they have incurred similar peril from the Iroquois, and have received the same Indians, who have spent the year partly in one of these places, partly in the other. Those who have lived at these two settlements have been the upper Algonquins, -- just as proud, and difficult to govern, as those from around Quebec are humble and docile. Last year, immediately after the departure of the Ships, -- which was the seventh of October, -- I sent Father le Jeune to live at Three Rivers, to see if he could subdue the Pride of those people.

He had no sooner arrived there than those wretches gave him plenty of exercise. The two principal chiefs were: one, Teswesatch, -- a crafty, proud man, and an enemy to the French actions and to Christianity; the other was an apostate named Abdon, full of intelligence, but wicked and bold. These two men governed the upper Algonquins; and striving to infuse into them the same mind which possessed themselves, they feigned, at intervals, to love the Faith and the French, and then they did the contrary in private, and often in public.

Last year, on the 19th of October, Abdon with his troop, returning from the war, brought to Three Rivers a prisoner who was not Iroquois, but their neighbor and friend: see them suddenly deciding to burn him. They are admonished that they must not multiply their enemies, and that they should give up all those cruelties; but they mock at the Father, and at all those who mention it to them. They pierce one foot of this poor man with a stick, and atrociously tear out his finger-nails, -- he held out his hand and gave his fingers, as if he had felt nothing: they tie both his wrists with cords with running knots, and four young men pull and fasten the cords with all their might, tearing and removing the flesh of his arms even to the bones. The pain causes him to fall in a swoon; they cease to torture him, throw water upon him, and give him food, to revive him for the torments; the wood was already prepared for burning him, and the night of this tragedy was about to begin.

But at evening, by good fortune, there arrived a canoe from Quebec, with letters from the Governor to Sir des Rochers, who commands at Three Rivers, -- to the end that he should ransom and release the prisoner, -- which he did with much difficulty, for rage and vengeance possessed the hearts of those Barbarians. This business dispatched, the Father applies himself to the instruction of the Indians, opposes the mutinous, and encourages to perseverance those who had begun well. The miserable Teswesatch publicly forbade his people to go to mass. The Father being one day ready to say it, and seeing that no one came, leaves the Church; and having perceived from a distance some young girls who were approaching with fear, he asks them why they did not come in. "The Captain has publicly announced," they say, "that he would kill those who should go there." The Father said, "Fear nothing; the French will defend you." One having entered, the others followed; and finally all came to Mass. They tarried not long at the Three Rivers, -- so they are not yet resident there, and have no fixed abode there.

Toward the end of November, they took a sort of resolution to go to Montreal, to make their hunt there during all the winter; but, having heard that some of their companions, who had gone there shortly before, were coming down again to stay at Fort Richelieu, they went to find them, so as to winter there all together, and keep one another company, either in hunting or in war. It would be a great blessing if those people could once become fixed and settled in some suitable residence, as the others have done at Sillery.

Father le Jeune goes after his flock and follows it, leaving Three Rivers to move with them toward Richelieu. Sir de Chamflour, who commanded there, received the Father with an affection quite extraordinary, which he continued throughout the winter, -- efficiently assisting him in the plan of drawing these peoples to Jesus Christ. Father de Noue, who was there to have care of the French, was delighted to have the Father with him, to teach the Indians.

One Sunday, a Pagan made a feast and invited to it most of the Christians who had confessed themselves. They all go to it, and not one is present at Mass, which is about to be said. The Father, astonished, asks where those were who wished to receive Communion. The others answered that they were at the feast. That angered him at first; he denounces them and their custom; he praises those who were present, and blames the absent. But he soon had to change his tone; for, the second Mass having rung, see all the guests, who come to tell the Father that they would receive Communion at that Mass.

"How?" said the Father, "are you not coming from the feast?"

"Certainly, we are coming from it: but we have not eaten; we have kept all the food which they gave us, and have carried it to our families, without tasting it."

The Father, surprised by this answer, gave them as much praise as he had given them blame; for he did not think that they would stay fasting in the midst of the feast.

A young girl, aged about seven years, playing with her companions, received a blow from a stone, on her forehead, near the nose, which cut her flesh even to the bone. Being all covered with blood, she presented herself to her father, who, without becoming excited, or reproaching those who had wounded his daughter, sent her to the one who attends the French, and continued a play that he had begun in a game. They lead her straight to us; they call the Surgeon, who, having examined the wound, said that it must be sewed. The dread we had that the child could not bear the pain, made us resolve to call her father; he comes, having lost the game, and without being in the worse temper for it. They tell him that it is necessary to sew up the wound of his child, and that it will cause her much pain. Nitanai Chibiner -- "My daughter," said he to her, "suffer with constancy; show that you have courage." The poor child presents herself to the Surgeon, who is armed with thread and needle. He takes several stitches in the flesh, without her ever saying a single word, or flinching, although she was neither bound nor held; she only stiffened her arm, -- and even that, not every time they pierced her flesh, which was done with great difficulty, on account of the unfavorable place where the wound was. This courage in a child of seven years is remarkable.

The Father called to a Christian young man, who was behaving quite badly; he threatens him with the punishments of God, and bids him come to his senses. As he said not a word, the Father asks him of what he was thinking. "First answer me," said the young man, -- "such a one, is he damned or saved?" He spoke of another Christian young man, lately deceased, who had behaved badly for a time, and with whom he had had great friendship. The Father was astonished at this question, and made no answer. The Indian tries again: "Tell me, is such a one damned?"

"No," said the Father; "for he came to himself at his death."

"I thought," said he, "that he was damned, and, because I loved him, I was willing to incur the same risk as he; but if he is saved, I must reform, for I wish to be with him after my death."

A small squad of Indians, wishing to start for the war in the country of the Iroquois, one of the band, who was a Christian, led them to the Fathers, to hear a word of urging. When they were about to start, they went all together to the Chapel; and their prayer ended, they went to the frozen stream. There they form in a ring, and, their Captains having spoke to them, they sing and dance in the sight of the French who were in the fort. They made a smart appearance, dressed like soldiers, and somewhat as in a masquerade of France. Some had their faces painted with red, others with blue, others with black, some with all the colors. They had javelins with handles, in the shape of a half-pike; many had corselets, stitched, and interlaced with small sticks; others had shields made of wood. There were some who had muskets, -- all had their feet equipped with good snowshoes, to run on the snows; their legs are the purveyors of their army. They do not usually eat while on the way, save the animals which they encounter and kill. They had with them a woman, who had escaped the preceding year from the hands and the country of the Iroquois; she was to lead them to the places where the enemy have been accustomed to carry on their hunt during the Winter. See them setting out happily, without fear of the horrible toils and of the intolerable cold, -- having no other retreat than the woods, nor other bed than the snow and the ice, and being compelled to spend several days without making fire, for fear of being discovered.

The Christians steadfastly said their prayers on the way; but the Pagans, who had promised to perform no superstitious rite, consulted the devil in their fashion, on approaching the enemy's country. They separated, and formed two small bands, one of which had some success; the other was surprised at night in its sleep, without keeping watch. At the noise of the enemy, and at the shots of the muskets, each one awakes, and seeing himself rudely attacked, takes flight. Some were killed on the spot, the others escaped, half naked; some had their feet frozen even to the bone. Fortunately, they came upon the settlement of Montreal, where they were received with much charity. But for that, they would have been dead.

That young woman who was guiding them escaped during the fight; she returned only a long time after the others, fleeing far into the woods. She had neither cap, nor shoes, nor sleeves, nor stockings; for all clothing, she had only a bit of blanket, which hardly protected half her body against the extreme cold. She walked thirty days in this condition, over the snow, without seeing a spark of fire; there is no knowing what she could have eaten during that time. She passed opposite the settlement of Montreal, on the other side of the great River, and stayed there six or seven days, shouting as loudly as she could, so that they might come and ferry her across; but seeing that she was not heard, she was finally compelled to move toward the fort of Richelieu, where she arrived half dead. The charity of the French restored her life and her strength.

There was nothing but superstitions among those wretched upper Algonquins; there was nothing but outrages and slanders against our Christians. The Father, with his little band of faithful ones, vigorously opposed them, -- now by force of arguments, again by ridiculing their foolish notions; that made them die with spite.

"It is a strange thing," said they, "that since prayer has come into our cabins, our former customs are no longer of any service; and yet we shall all die because we give them up."

"I have seen the time," said one of them, "when my dreams were true; when I had seen Moose or Beavers in sleep, I would catch some. When our fortune tellers felt the enemy coming, that came true; there was preparation to receive him. Our dreams and our prophecies are no longer true, -- prayer has spoiled everything for us."

Others, blaming us for the punishments which God was sending them, said: "We see well that God is angry at us, and that he is right, -- for we do not do what he says; as it seems hard to us, we disobey him, and so he becomes angry with us and kills us. But you, you are the cause of it: for if you had lived in your own country without speaking to us of God, he would not say a word to us, since we would not know him or his will. You would then do much better to return to your country; for it is you who kill us. Before you came here, the French did not say so many prayers; they only made the sign of the Cross, and even then, all did not know how to make it. They did not have all those prayers which you are introducing; it is you who have brought in all these novelties, and who teach them to the Indians, and overturn their brains and make them die. Besides, if you called to prayers only once in ten days, we would have some respite: but you have no regard to either rain, or snow, or cold; every day you are heard shouting for the prayers. It is a strange thing that you cannot remain quiet."

The Father argued that if one did not teach them, and if one left them in the quiet that they mentioned, they would burn eternally in Hell. But the majority became still more obstinate, and were furious with the Father, and said that he was a greater sorcerer than their own people; that the country must be cleared of such; that they had clubbed three sorcerers at the Island, who had not done so much harm as he. There was some fear in case they should carry out their evil thought: but that apostate of whom I have previously spoken -- seeing this coldness of the French toward him and toward all those who were persecuting the Faith -- feigned to show himself favorable toward it, and gave some indication of wishing to become converted.

MONTREAL.

The bulk of the French who are here is composed of people different in respect to age and character, -- almost as if they were all of different countries. But they are only one in intention, all living for one and the same object, for the salvation of these poor Indians. The thought that they are contributing to the salvation of souls makes them work with such good courage that it never occurs to them to complain. Besides, they have been conducted by a Gentleman of merit for both the establishment of the Colony and the salvation of the Indians. It is enough for me to say that this is Sir de Chomedey de Maisonneuve.

Since the departure of the vessels, last year, one of the most notable things which prevails in the habitation of Montreal is the unity among all those who dwell there. There are about fifty-five persons of various countries, different temperaments, and diverse conditions, -- and all of the same heart, and with the same plan of serving God. Each one has so well discharged his duty toward God and men that no cause of complaint has been found in the space of ten whole months. The government has been gentle and efficient, obedience easy, and worship universally loved by all, -- so much so that he who commands in this settlement has received a great satisfaction from his people, -- from the subordinates as well as from their Captain -- and those who govern the Church, entire contentment from all parties. The example of Sir de Maisonneuve, and of the other persons of distinction who are there, has contributed to that. The Indians, seeing so great peace among the French, have been much uplifted by it, and have spoken well of it.

God defended this settlement, this winter, against the waters, which, in an uncommon flood, threatened it with total ruin. The waters covered, for a little while, the meadows and the places near the fort; at the sight of this inundation, which was continually increasing, everyone withdraws into the safest place. Sir de Maisonneuve feels himself inwardly prompted to go and plant a Cross at the edge of the little river, -- at the foot of which the settlement is built, and which was beginning to overflow, -- to ask God to confine it in its usual place; or to acquaint them with the place where he wished to be served by those Gentlemen of Montreal, -- to the end of establishing the principal settlement there, in case he permitted that the waters should come to destroy the one that had just been started. He immediately proposed this sentiment to the Fathers, who found it good; he writes it on a piece of paper, has it read publicly; goes to plant the Cross, which the Father blesses, at the edge of the river, with the writing which he attaches to the foot. He returns, with a promise, which he makes to God, to bear a Cross himself alone upon the mountain of Montreal, if he is pleased to grant his request.

The waters still continued to pass beyond, God wishing to prove their faith. They were seen to roll great waves, one after the other, fill the moats of the fort, and rise even to the gate of the settlement, -- seeming liable to swallow up everything, without remedy. Everyone surveys this spectacle without agitation, without dread, without complaint, -- although it was in the heart of the Winter, at full midnight, and at the time when the Nativity of the Son of God is celebrated on earth. Sir de Maisonneuve does not lose courage and hopes soon to see the effect of his prayer, which was not long delayed; for the waters, after having stopped a little while at the threshold of the gate, without swelling further, subsided by degrees, put the inhabitants out of danger, and set the Captain to the fulfillment of his promise.

He employs the workmen, without delay, -- some to make the road, others to cut the trees, others to make the Cross. He himself takes a hand in the work, to encourage them by his example. And the day having come, -- it was Epiphany, which, they had chosen for this ceremony, -- they bless the Cross; they make Sir de Maisonneuve first soldier of the Cross, with all the ceremonies of the Church. He loads it upon his shoulder, although heavy; walks a whole 2 miles, following the Procession; and plants it on the summit of the mountain. Father du Perron said Mass there, and Madame de la Pelletterie was the first to receive communion there.

This Winter, all have lived there with joy; though suffering the inconveniences of a new dwelling in a desert country, not one there has been sick, which has so far never been remarked in any new settlement on this side. The place is fair, the land, rich, and the meadows abundant: the Indians are extremely well pleased with it, and would gladly live there, if the danger of the enemy were removed, or peace with them concluded. Without that, I do not see that there is a way for the Indians to become fixed and settled there, or that the Hurons will have freedom to come down there, or that the colony of the French can prosper there.

As for the Indians who have frequented this settlement, here follows what is written to me of them, by Father du Peron, who has spent the whole Winter there:

"The belief which they have nearly everywhere, that Montreal is established only for the sole benefit of the Indians, is the strongest attraction that we have here to incline them to God.

"Toward the end of February, there arrived at Montreal a band of twenty-five men, going to the war against the Iroquois; and the women and children stopped here. Two or three days after, still another band comes, for hunting, which is so excellent there that the Indians all tell us that they would have lived there long ago, in great number, if they had had there, as at present, a place of refuge against the Iroquois, our near neighbors. He who was leading this band was the first man to be baptized and married there in the Church; he is named Oumasasikweie, and his baptismal name is Joseph, to have him bear the name of the first establishment which these Gentlemen of Montreal have given for the Indians.

"The 9th day of March, le Borgne [the One-eyed] (Tessouat) of the Kichesipirini Algonquins, first Captain of all these countries, and his wife, after the preparations requisite for Baptism, finally received it. Sir de Maisonneuve, with Mademoiselle Manse, named him Paul; and his wife was named Magdelaine by Madame de la Pelterie and Sir de Puiseaux. After they had received the blessing of Marriage, Sir de Maisonneuve gave a fine musket to Paul, with the articles necessary for its use, and had them dine with us; and after dinner, he made a great feast to all the Indians, where all the French were present.

"Father Poncet and I satisfied the urgent request for baptism of many persons, -- and at a time when we thought them most averse to making us such requests. For it was at the return of a band of fifteen warriors, who had been put to flight by the enemy, who had surprised them by night, -- in which there were 4 captured or killed, and some wounded of the eleven who returned. All these were naked and wretched, and without arms, in the firm belief that Pieskaret and eight others of their people, -- who formed a small detached band, half a day from them, and nearer the country of the enemy, -- had all been surprised, or killed on the spot, asserting that they had seen their arms in the hands of the Iroquois, who had attacked them.

"Toward the beginning of April, a good part of the Indians having started to go into the woods, both to hunt Beavers and to make Canoes there, -- Paul having remained, with one other man, -- they suddenly see on the other side of the river some persons who were coming down to us, and seeking passage, to cross the ice. They recognized, by the number, that it was the band of Pieskaret and his people, who had been mourned as if dead, -- but who returned victorious, with a head of the enemy.

"There are about us here, many Algonquins who seek but a safe rendezvous, where they can hunt and live free from danger of the enemy, in which they are in at all times. They come up here to seek a place of refuge, not finding it on the great river, where all their haunts are. If it had not been so hot at Montreal, they would be there already, and would have anticipated the French, -- that place suiting them better than any other."

INCURSIONS BY THE IROQUOIS, AND THE CAPTIVITY OF FATHER JOGUES.

THERE are two divisions of Iroquois, -- one, neighbors of the Hurons and equal to them in number, or even greater, are called Senecas. Formerly, the Hurons had the upper hand; at present, the Seneca prevail, both in number and in strength. The others live between Three Rivers and the upper Iroquois, and are called Mohawks.

There are among these Mohawks only three villages, comprising about seven or eight hundred men of arms. The settlement of the Dutch is near them; they go there to carry on their trades, especially in muskets; they have at present three hundred of these, and use them with skill and boldness. These are the ones who make incursions upon our Algonquins and Innu, and watch the Hurons at all places along the River, -- slaughtering them, burning them, and carrying off their Pelts, which they go and sell to the Dutch, to have gunpowder and muskets, and then to ravage everything and become masters everywhere, which is fairly easy for them unless France gives us help.

For, several contagious diseases having consumed most of the Innus and Algonquins, who are neighbors to us, they have nothing to fear on that side; and the Hurons who come down, -- coming for trade, and not for war, and having not one musket -- if they are met, as usually happens, have no other defense than flight; and if they are captured, they allow themselves to be bound and massacred like sheep. In former years, the Iroquois came in rather large bands at certain times in the Summer, and afterward left the River free: but, this present year, they have changed their plan, and have separated themselves into small bands of twenty, thirty, fifty, or a hundred at the most, along all the passages and places of the River; and when one band goes away, another replaces it. They are merely small troops well armed, which set out incessantly, one after the other, from the country of the Iroquois, to occupy the whole great River, and to lay ambushes along it everywhere; from these they issue unexpectedly, and fall indifferently upon the Innus, Algonquins, Hurons, and French.

We have had letters from France that the plan of the Dutch is to have the French harassed by the Iroquois to compel the French to abandon everything, -- even the conversion of the Indians. I cannot believe that those Gentlemen of Holland, being so united to France, have this wretched idea; but, the practice of the Iroquois being so consistent with it, they ought to apply a remedy in their settlement, as the Governor has done here, -- often preventing our Indians from going to kill the Dutch.

Here is the miserable result of the incursions of the Iroquois this Year. The 9th of last May, as soon as the ice was gone from the surface of the great River, Eight Algonquins, coming down from toward the Hurons in two canoes, all laden with pelts, landed one morning 10 miles from Three Rivers, to make a little fire; it had frozen quite hard all night, and they had paddled during the darkness, fearing surprise from their enemies. Hardly had they been half an hour refreshing themselves, when nineteen Iroquois issue from the wood, and fall upon them, kill two men, and take the others captive, with all their pelts. Father Buteux had passed by there only two days before, in a canoe, accompanied by three Hurons. It is a miracle that he was not perceived and taken, with his companions. The nineteen Iroquois were not alone; others were seen 15 or 17 miles above, moving toward the fort of Richelieu.

A month later, which was the ninth of June, another band of forty made its attack at Montreal and its vicinity; they were in ambush a mile above the settlement of Montreal, on the Island itself, 250 feet from the River. They had built a little fort there at the time of their arrival, which was a few days before; from there they were watching the Hurons on the River, and the French of Montreal on land, to surprise any of them who might be scattered about the settlement. Everything succeeded for them to their wish; for on the aforementioned day, the ninth of June, they perceived sixty Hurons coming down in thirteen canoes, -- without muskets and without arms, but all freighted with pelts, -- who were coming to Montreal, and from there to the Three Rivers, for their trade. They carried the letters of our Fathers with the Hurons, and a copy of their Report. The forty Iroquois issue from the wood, fall upon them, frighten them with their muskets, put them to flight, and take twenty-three of them prisoners, with their canoes and the pelts; the rest escape, and strive to reach the settlement of Montreal. The Iroquois do not stop there; they give their twenty-three prisoners, all naked, into the charge of ten of their comrades, well armed, and send ten others to fall upon five Frenchmen, who were working at some carpentry, 500 feet from the settlement. Meanwhile, the twenty who remain show themselves before the fort, and make a false attack on it, with a discharge of more than a hundred musket shots; this gave leisure to the other ten to surprise our five Frenchmen.

Three of these they beat to death, -- scalping them, and carrying away their hair, -- and take the two others captive; then they go to rejoin their companions, and all together go themselves to their fort, where the two Frenchmen were bound, and put with the captive Hurons. The Iroquois passed the night in rejoicing over their prize, and in consulting as to what they should do with it.

Morning having come, they rush upon the Huron prisoners, and beat thirteen of them to death, almost without selection. They reserve ten of them alive, along with our two Frenchmen, and then go away to the canoes to get robes of Beaver without number; and after having loaded all that they could of these, they leave even more than thirty on the spot, and therefore cross the River, triumphant with joy, and laden with rich spoils. Our French of the settlement see them cross, without being able to offer any remedy. Eight or ten days later, one of the two French prisoners escaped by flight, -- pretending to his host to go to fetch some wood, to prepare the kettle. He reported that the Iroquois had not done them any harm since their capture, and had kept them bound only two days; that they told them that they already had French prisoners, and that all were tilling the soil in their country. In these encounters and attacks, one must not speak of making a sally upon the enemy; for, as neither their coming nor their number is known, and as they are concealed in the woods, -- where they are trained for running, differently from our French, -- the sallies would help only to cause new massacres; for usually a small group attacks, and the others remain in ambush in the thick of the woods.

Those of the Hurons who could escape by flight arrived in single file at the settlement of Montreal, -- partly toward evening, partly the next day, and all naked, -- and gave news of their disastrous accident, also learning ours.

While this band of forty were at Montreal, and were making these ravages there, another of like number was on lake Saint Pierre, below the fort of Richelieu; and on the twelfth of June they came to encamp in an old fort, made four years ago by the Iroquois, 7 or 10 miles from Three Rivers, on the same side as the settlement. They had with them three or four Hurons, taken the year before with Father Jogues, among whom were two brothers of that great Joseph, known through the Report of the Hurons. Both escaped from the band of the Iroquois, and came toward evening to Three Rivers, where by good fortune they found Father de Brebeuf, to whom they told plenty of news: that Father Jogues was still alive; that last year after his capture, though able to escape, he would not do it, so not to separate himself from the captive Hurons until after the combat; he baptized all the prisoners, who were expecting nothing but death. They said that immediately the Father and the two Frenchmen, Cousture and Rene Goupil, received many blows with fists and clubs; but that the worst treatment which was dealt them was at their encounter with two hundred and fifty Iroquois, who were returning from their attack on Richelieu, where they lost five of their people, and several were wounded. Yet they were not bound while on the road, except at their entrance into the village, when they were all stripped to their shirts, and received many affronts and outrages, -- their beards were plucked out, their nails were torn out, the tips of their fingers being afterward burned in calumets (tobacco pipes) all red with fire. Father Jogues had his left thumb cut off, and they crushed with their teeth the index finger of his right hand.

We were told they spared the lives of all the Hurons except two, who were burned; that the little Therese, the Seminarist of the Ursulines, was sought after in marriage; that she had lived near her uncle named Joseph, who is the one who, having escaped, was relating all this news to Father de Brebeuf. He said that Rene Goupil, walking near the village with Father Jogues, was struck down with a blow of a hatchet by an Iroquois, who had just learned of the death of some of his people, killed at the Fort of Richelieu; that Father Jogues, seeing Rene fall at his feet, fell on his knees and offered his head to the Iroquois, who was content with having killed one of them. Guillaume Cousture, in the combat, would not flee or separate himself from the Father.

The Father lived all winter in the cabin of an Iroquois Captain, without having been given to anyone after the capture, -- contrary to their custom, -- and therefore it is always free to kill him; he passed the winter with a single red cape for all his clothing. He had, still, liberty to go to the three Villages, to teach the Hurons and the captives; the Iroquois did not willingly hear him speak of God. These Hurons said that Cousture had his foot frozen with cold: that two Hollanders, one of whom was mounted on horseback, had come to the village where father Jogues was, and had tried to ransom him, but that the Iroquois would not listen to it; that an Iroquois of that band had been assigned with a long letter, by father Jogues, to give to us; that the Iroquois spoke of conducting them back, but that he and the others put no faith in it.

Here follows what Joseph told of himself: "If sometimes they gave me with which to make a feast, I did so without any ceremony, and the Iroquois let me do it. I know that God has saved my life; for, having been given to people who had not sufficient means to save my life, by giving presents according to our custom, -- he caused that they did not accept me, and that I was, for the second time, given to another, who had the means and the wish to deliver me from death. As regards Father Jogues, he offers his prayers quite openly; but as for us, he told us that we should pray quite low, that the Iroquois had no sense. The Father speaks to them of God: but they do not listen to him; he has only one little book of prayers, and Cousture the other." He added that he had been twice at the habitation of the Dutch, and his brother four times; he told many things of their trade, houses, etc. But what he had remarked above all was that, when they had given him food, and he had made the sign of the Cross, a Hollander said to him that that was not good; "And," he said, "they do not act like you. They smoke and drink without ceasing. I was expecting," said he, "that in the evening they would pray together, as you do, but they did not do that." That is what Joseph relates.

Let us return to the band of our Iroquois from which he had escaped with his brother, and a third who arrived shortly after. The Iroquois, no longer seeing the three Hurons, and suspecting what the matter was, -- that they had withdrawn to Three Rivers, -- believed they were discovered, and returned to their country. But others succeeded them in the same lake of St. Pierre, above Three Rivers; so that the Hurons who had escaped to Montreal, and who were coming down to Three Rivers, were again met and pursued.

Most of them, leaving their canoes, rushed into the woods and came all naked to the Three Rivers, by frightful roads. Some other Hurons, captives of former years, who were with these latter bands of Iroquois, escaped and came to the Three Rivers, and confirmed all that their companions had said, -- especially that there was talk in the country of bringing here Father Jogues and restoring him to the French; but, as the treachery of the Iroquois is known, no one believed a word of it. The Governor, however, who desired the Father's deliverance, and peace if it were reasonable, equipped four sailboats and went, prepared for war or peace, to Three Rivers, and from there to the Fort of Richelieu, to see if the Iroquois would present themselves on the river or before the habitations. But nothing appeared; as soon as they perceived the sailboats, they entered further within the woods; and the sailboats having passed, they returned to the edge of the water, and kept watch on the Algonquins and Hurons.

the Governor often landed, to examine their trail, and to see if he might encounter some band of them in their customary Forts, to attack them there. 5 miles above Richelieu he found a road newly made in the woods, which extended about 5 miles, whereby the Iroquois traversed and cut off a point of land to come from their river into that of Saint Lawrence, bearing their canoes and baggage on their shoulders, and not to pass before the Fort of Richelieu. If the Governor had had the soldiers for whom he was hoping from France, he would probably have proceeded even into the country of the Iroquois, with 200 or 300 Algonquins and Innu who offered themselves to keep him company; and I believe that this would have produced a good effect, and that he would have compelled those proud Barbarians to an honest peace, or have entirely subdued them. What I have said here should not give extraordinary terror; when the Iroquois have encountered resistance, they have given way as soon as, or sooner than, the others. The Algonquins, being in reasonable number, have often made them tremble and flee.

Despite the incursions, the Algonquins went hunting; they cannot refrain from that without dying from hunger. The land does not yet yield enough for them; "As well," they say, "die by the iron of the Iroquois, as of a cruel hunger." The 30th of July, seven young Algonquins went hunting toward Montreal, -- they were nearly all Christians; they encountered two Iroquois canoes, one of which, in which there were twelve men, ran immediately upon them. These good young men were not frightened; Father le Jeune had said to them on leaving: "If you flee death, you will find it; if you seek it, it will flee from you. Entrust yourselves to God, if you meet the enemy." They observe this counsel, -- they paddle with all their might straight toward the Iroquois who discharge upon them ten or twelve musket shots, without other effect than to pierce one canoe and to wound one Algonquin in the foot. The Algonquins continually advance, and discharge two or three muskets that they had; they prostrate two Iroquois wounded to death in their canoe, and compel them all to go ashore and retreat. If these young Algonquins had had gunpowder to continue and Pursue further, they would have killed most of the band; but we have always been afraid to arm the Indians too much. If only the Hollanders had done the same, and had not compelled us to give arms to our Christians, -- for until now, arms have been traded only to Christians.

The 15th of August, twenty Algonquins left Three Rivers to go hunting toward Richelieu. When in the lake of St. Pierre, 17 or 20 miles from the settlement, at the mouth of a river called saint Francois, they separated themselves into two bands, to hunt better. The one, which was composed of twelve, immediately encounters twenty Iroquois, well armed; then they were in close conflict, -- first with the muskets, of which the Iroquois had twice as many, then with the javelin, finally with the knife. Some on both sides were killed; the Algonquins, seeing themselves weaker, took flight; three, with a Huron who was in their company, were made prisoners. They burned one of these; two others, who were Christians, escaped. They reported to us that the Iroquois were nearly all wounded, and some, to death.

At the same time when that was occurring in the lake of St. Pierre, there were 2 other bands of Iroquois, who were prowling about the Fort of Richelieu; they had with them a captive Huron, but an Iroquois by affection. The Huron took his place alone in a canoe, and advanced toward the Fort, and requested to speak; they receive him, -- they have him enter, they ask him who he is, and what brings him. He answers that he is an Iroquois, and that he wishes to negotiate peace for himself and for his companions; he presents some beavers with this object. They ask him if he has news of Father Jogues; he draws forth a letter from him and presents it, then asks to return. They tell him that the letter is addressed to the Governor, who is at Quebec or at Three Rivers, and that he must wait for an answer; he requests that they fire a cannon shot, which is done, and immediately his comrades appear in 3 or 4 canoes. They paddle steadily, to come toward the Fort; they are hailed to stop, three or four times, -- which not obeying, they are fired upon; that compelled them to go ashore, and flee into the woods, abandoning their canoes and baggage; it is not known whether they were wounded or killed.

Not many days later, a band of about 100 Iroquois appeared at the same place, in eleven great canoes; they had crossed above Montreal, had remained there several days in ambush, and had presented themselves before the settlement. There, under pretext of some sign of peace, they had attempted to attract near them some Algonquins of the Iroquet nation, who had been sent to parley at a distance, upon whom they treacherously discharged more than a hundred musket shots, but without effect. They had afterward come down to Richelieu, where, seeing themselves discovered, they retreated.

Here follows a copy of the letter from Father Jogues, written from the Iroquois country, which a Huron brought and gave to Sir de Chanflour: it is addressed to the Governor. It is a great pity that three others, which he wrote to us previously, have been lost.

"Sir, here is the 4th that I have written since I am with the Iroquois. Time and paper fail me to repeat here what I have already conveyed to you at great length. Cousture and I are still living. Henry (one of those two young men who were taken at Montreal) was brought here the eve of saint John's day. He was not loaded with blows from clubs at the entrance to the village, like us, nor has he had his fingers cut, like us; he lives, and all the Hurons brought with him into the country. Be on your guard everywhere; new bands are always leaving, and, until the Autumn, the river contains enemies. There are here nearly three hundred muskets, and seven hundred Iroquois; they are skilled in handling them. They can arrive at Three Rivers by various streams; the Fort of Richelieu gives them a little more trouble, but does not hinder them altogether. The Iroquois say that if those who took and killed the French at Montreal had known what you have done, -- in redeeming the Sokoki Abenakis whom you delivered from the hands of the Algonquins, -- they would not have attacked; they had started in the midst of the winter, and before the news of it came. Still, quite recently there has departed a band, and the man of Mathurin is in it, and leads the band, as at our capture last year. This troop desires and plans to take some French, as well as Algonquins.

The plan of the Iroquois is to take all the Hurons; and having put to death the most considerable ones and a good part of the others, to make of them both one people and one land. I have a great compassion for these poor people, several of whom are Christians. I have received several letters from the Hurons, with the Report taken near Montreal. The Dutch have tried to ransom us, but in vain; they are still attempting to do so at present, but it will again be, I believe, with the same result. I become more and more resolved to dwell here as long as it shall please Our Lord, and not to go away, even though an opportunity should present itself. My presence consoles the French, the Hurons, and the Algonquins. I have baptized more than sixty persons, several of whom have arrived in Heaven.

Isaac Jogues

of the Jesuits

From The Village Of The Iroquois, The 30th Of June, 1643"

This letter contains more substance than words; its construction is excellent, although the hand which formed its characters is all torn. Some Hurons, made prisoners with this good Father, having escaped this last spring from the hands of the Iroquois, have given us an idea of the rich liberty of this poor captive; and depict to us the abasement into which men have thrown him. The Iroquois, having taken him the 2nd day of August, 1642, dragged him into their country, with the shouts and hootings of Demons who carry off their prey. He was greeted with a hundred beatings at the entrance to the Village where he was first conducted; there was no good mother's son who did not fling his paw or claw on this poor victim, -- some struck him with heavy blows of cords, others with blows of sticks; some pulled and carried away the hair of his head; others tore out the hair of his beard. A woman, or rather a Fury, takes his arm and cuts off, or rather saws off, with a knife the thumb of his left hand; she cuts a gash, and goes in quest of the joint; she lacerates and removes the whole mass of the thumb. Another bites one of the fingers of his right hand, injures the bone, and renders that poor finger crippled and useless; others tear out his nails, then put fire on the end of those poor fingers. For all these pains, the poor Father had no other Physician or other Surgeon than patience; no other salve than pain, no other cover than the air which surrounded his wounds.

This is not all, -- those Barbarians tear off his cassock; they strip him, and, to cover his nakedness, throw at him a bit of an old skin, loaded with filth and stench. He covers half of his body with it; he has his feet and his legs bare, his arms bare, his head bare. He has for house some pieces of bark; the earth is his bed and his mattress; a fragment of skin, or of a cape, which serves him as robe during the day, still serves him as cover during the night. His food is composed only of a little meal of Indian corn, boiled in water without salt. His ears are attacked with a thousand jeers, a thousand taunts, and a thousand insults, -- which those Barbarians vomit against the French, against the Christian Indians, and against our allies. "Take courage, my nephew," a Captain will say to him, jeering; "be not grieved, you will soon see some of your brothers here, who will come to keep you company. Our warriors desire to eat of the flesh of the French, -- you will be able to taste it with us."

The Father says that he would not escape, though he could do so. "My presence (he continues) consoles the French, the Hurons, and the Algonquins." There are two captive Frenchmen with this good Father, many Hurons, and many Algonquins, -- some of whom are Christians, and the others desire to be.

The two Frenchmen who are with the Father give us astonishment, -- that one, especially, who is named Guillaume Cousture. This young man was able to escape; but the thought of it having come to him, -- "No," he says, "I wish to die with the Father; I cannot abandon him."

The letter states that there had started from the Iroquois a band led by the man of Mathurin, -- that is, by a Huron captured by the Iroquois, who has lost affection for his country and his fellow countrymen, on whom he now makes war. As he knows the places where they are to pass, he goes to await and surprise them at the passage; it was this miserable renegade who defeated the Hurons with whom the Father happened to be. They call him "the man of Mathurin," because he brought back from the Hurons, before he was captured by the Iroquois, a worthy young man who bore that name; who crossed back to France, to give himself to God in the holy Order of the Reverend Capuchin Fathers, in which he has made profession. Also, this letter was written partly in French, partly in Latin, partly in the Indian tongue, so that if it fell into the hands of someone else than the one to whom it was addressed, he could not easily discover the good counsel which the Father gives us.

the Governor, who was at Three Rivers, answered the letter of Father Jogues; I wrote to him also and sent Father Brebeuf to Richelieu to confer with that Huron about his return to the Iroquois. But the poor man placed us in a new difficulty, for, fearing in case the Iroquois in the country should take him for a spy, he declared plainly that he would return no more to the Iroquois, but to the Hurons; and there was no way of persuading him to anything else. Consequently, we remained deprived of that consolation, and Father Jogues still more than we, -- having no answer or news from our country, and perhaps in danger of being put to death upon the suspicion which the Indians will have, that some harm may have been done to the captive Huron who was of their band.

SOME OBSERVATIONS TOUCHING THE HURONS.

We should now speak of the Nations higher up, but the Iroquois, -- having robbed us of the Report, and of the letters which our Fathers who are in those more distant regions wrote, have compelled us to keep silence. Still, some Frenchmen, and some Indians of our allies, -- marching afterward in the footsteps of those Barbarians, -- picked up some papers which they had thrown into the woods; we have collected from them what follows.

"I do not know (says one of those whose letters have reached us), what it would help to explain what has happened to us, -- that is inconceivable to those who are not on the spot. For, not to speak of Father Jogues, the two Frenchmen who accompanied him, named Guillaume Cousture and Rene Goupil, who were taken with the Father by the Iroquois, were two young men excellently adapted to these countries. And if the fleet of Huron Christians which they accompanied, and which was taken and defeated at the same time, had arrived safe and sound, the conversion of the country would have seemed almost infallible. If one could remedy the incursions of the Iroquois, and compel them to a favorable peace, we would see in a little time notable advances for Christianity in these regions.

The Iroquois have so spread themselves along the great stream of Saint Lawrence, and along the Riviere des Prairies, that there is no security from the lake of St. Pierre, which is a little above Three Rivers, even to far beyond Montreal. Those Barbarians conceal themselves, now in one place, now in another, -- falling suddenly upon the French, upon the Hurons, and upon the Algonquins, when they see their opportunity; one would scarcely dare to navigate, in all the Summer, these noble streams, unless Caravans be made, which we cannot do because of our small number.

As for our mission in the Villages of the Hurons, we have continued them as usual. We were never so fortunate, nor ever so unfortunate -- the capture of Father Jogues, of our Frenchmen, of our Christian Hurons, and of our Christian trainees, makes us realize our troubles. We are entering more and more into the possession of the goods which we come to buy in this end of the world at the price of our blood and of our lives: I see stronger tendencies than ever toward the total conversion of these peoples, whom we are attacking among the first, and whom we are undertaking to carry away, to serve as models and as examples to those who shall be subsequently converted. Our little Churches are continually increasing in number of persons, and in virtue; the affairs of our Lord advance in proportion to the adversities which he sends us. Hardly could one find, until now, among our Christians two or three warriors; but, since the capture of that worthy Neophyte, named Eustache, the most valiant of all the Hurons, we have counted in a single band as many as twenty-two Believers, -- all men of courage, and mostly Captains or people of importance. The use of muskets, refused to the Infdels by the Governor, and granted to the Christian Neophytes, is a powerful attraction to win them."

Let us not pass lightly over these fragments of letters; everything is not ruined, since we lose only the accessory, and since the essential remains intact. Three worthy laborers have died, almost in the same year. Father Charles Raimbaut -- who had a heart greater than all his body, though he was of generous stature -- was meditating the way to China through our Barbarian land; and God has put him in the way to Heaven. Another was Father Jean Dolbeau, whom paralysis had attacked amid his labors; the ship which was bearing him back to France having been seized by three hostile frigates, while the victors were plundering it, someone let fall fire into the magazine, which hurled into the sea both our friends and our enemies. The poor Father was drowned in the sea. Father Ambroise Davost -- crossing over because of his age and the weakness of his body, having been often attacked by the scurvy -- was carried off on the sea by a fever, which did not leave him until he was buried in the waves.

I touch two points before closing. The first is that this enthusiasm of lavishing one's blood for Jesus Christ, is communicating itself to young men who might have dragged their miserable lives into vices if they had remained in France, and who, in this new world, pass for Saints. The one who was beaten to death by the Iroquois, named Goupil, was a gallant Surgeon, who had dedicated his life, his heart, and his hand to the service of the poor Indians. He lived some years at St. Joseph, where the reputation of his virtues, especially of his humility and of his charity, still gladdens the French and the Indians who knew him. When we spoke to him of going to the Hurons, his heart expanded at the thought of the dangers that he was about to incur for his master; finally, he gave his life for the sake of his love. But here is what increases our astonishment: another young Surgeon, well versed in his art, and well known in the Hospital at Orleans, where he has shown his virtue and his competence, has chosen to take the place of his comrade; he has crossed into New France; and I, seeing him on the point of going up to the Hurons, represented to him all the perils into which he was about to plunge.

"I foresee all that," he said to me; "if my plans tended only to the earth, your words would give me terror: but my heart, desiring only God, fears nothing." Then, he embarks with three young Christian Hurons, resolved upon all that it might please Our Lord to send them. We believe that they have passed secretly through the enemy, but we have no assurance of that.

At the time when the Hurons were most irritated against the French and against our Fathers, and when they were plotting their death, it was asked of some young men who had come down from those upper Nations, whether they were not satisfied to be saved from those great dangers into which the malice of the Indians had thrown them; they answered that, since the Fathers were so freely risking their lives for our Lord, they were again quite ready to go and keep them company, and to die with them. Their statement was not a mere sound formed by their lips; they went up again the same year, and exposed themselves again to the perils which they had avoided.

I wish to say, in the second place, that the Indians have all the reasons which purely human argument can suggest to them for having an aversion toward the faith, or rather, for rejecting it. Since we have proclaimed the law of Jesus Christ in these regions, plagues have rushed in as in a throng. Contagious diseases, war, famine, -- these are the tyrants that have sought to wrest the faith from the faithful, and that have caused it to be hated by the infidels. How many times have we been reproached that, wherever we set foot, death came in with us!

"You tell us" (exclaim some) "that God is full of goodness; and then, when we give ourselves up to him, he massacres us. The Iroquois, our mortal enemies, do not believe in God, they do not love the prayers, they are more wicked than the Demons, -- and yet they prosper; and since we have abandoned the practices of our ancestors, they kill us, they massacre us, they burn us, they exterminate us, root and branch. What profit can come to us from listening to the Gospel, since death and the faith nearly always march together?"

There are Christians who generously answer these complaints: "Though the faith should cause us to lose life, is it a great misfortune to leave the earth to be blessed in Heaven? If death and war slaughter the Christians, no more do they spare the infidels."

"Yes, but," answer the others, "the Iroquois do not die, and yet they hold prayer in abomination. Before these innovations appeared in these regions, we lived as long as the Iroquois; but, since some have accepted prayer, one sees no more white heads, -- we die at half age."

"God behaves toward you," was said to them, "like a Father toward his child; if his child will not have sense, he punishes it, to give it some."

"Alas!" say some, "why did he not begin with the Iroquois? Why did he not try to give them sense first? We have so much already, and they have none at all."

THE DELIVERANCE OF FATHER ISAAC JOGUES, AND HIS ARRIVAL IN FRANCE.

THIS news will be by so much more agreeable as it was less expected. This poor Father was no longer spoken of, save as one speaks of the dead. Some believed him burned and devoured by the Iroquois; others regarded him as a victim who awaited nothing more but the knife and the teeth of the Sacrificers of Moloch. In fact, God saved him by a wholly special Providence, at the moment when he was destined to the fire, and to those other cruelties which pass the malice of men. He is living, and, if his hands are shortened, his heart is enlarged.

The letter which Father Isaac Jogues writes from his captivity to Father Charles Lalemant, speaks to us of these sufferings quite amply; but it does not satisfy all the questions that we might put to him. Let us follow it, still; for it well deserves its place here:

I started the day of the Feast of Our Blessed Father saint Ignace, from the Village where I was captive, -- to follow and accompany some Iroquois who were going away, first for trade, then for fishing. Having accomplished their little trade, they stopped at a place 17 or 20 miles below a settlement of the Dutch, which is located on a river where we carried on our fishing. While we were setting snares for the fish, there came a rumor that a squad of Iroquois, returned from pursuit of the Hurons, had killed five or six on the spot, and taken four prisoners, two of whom had been already burned in our Village, with cruelties extraordinary.

At this news, my heart was pierced through with a most bitter and sharp pain, because I had not seen, or consoled, or baptized those poor victims. Consequently, fearing in case some other like thing should happen in my absence, I said to a good old woman, -- who, due to her age, and the care that she had for me, called me her nephew, and I called her my aunt, -- I said to her: "My aunt, I would much like to return to our Cabin; I grow weary here." It was not that I expected more ease and less pain in our Village, -- where I suffered a continual martyrdom, being compelled to see with my eyes the horrible cruelties which are practiced there; but my heart could not endure the death of any man without my procuring him baptism.

That good woman said to me: "Go then, my nephew, since you are weary here; take something to eat on the way." I embarked in the first Canoe that was going up to the Village, -- always accompanied by the Iroquois. Having arrived in the settlement of the Dutch, through which it was necessary for us to pass, our whole Village is excited against the French, and only my return is awaited, for them to burn us for the cause of such news. Among several bands of Iroquois, who had gone to war against the French, the Algonquins, and the Hurons, there was one which took the resolution to go to Richelieu, to spy on the French and the Indians, their allies. A certain Huron of this band, taken by the Iroquois, and settled among them, came to ask me for letters, to carry to the French, -- hoping, perhaps, to surprise one of them by this bait; but, as I knew that our French would be on their guard, and as I saw that it was important that I should give them some warning of the plans, the arms, and the treachery of our enemies, I found means to secure a bit of paper to write to them, -- the Dutch according me this charity.

I knew the dangers to which I was exposing myself; I was not ignorant that, if any misfortune happened to those warriors, they would make me responsible for it, and would blame my letters for it. I anticipated my death; but it seemed to me pleasant and agreeable, employed for the public good, and for our French and the poor Indians who listen to the word of Our Lord. I accordingly gave my letter to that young warrior, who did not return. The story which his comrades have brought back says that he carried it to the fort of Richelieu, and that, as soon as the French had seen it, they fired the Cannon upon them. This frightened them so that most Fled, all naked, -- abandoning one of their Canoes, in which there were three muskets, gunpowder and lead, and some other baggage.

This news being brought into the Village, they clamor aloud that my letters have caused them to be treated like that; the rumor of it spreads everywhere, -- it comes even to my ears. They reproach me that I have done this evil deed; they speak only of burning me; and if I had been in the Village at the return of those warriors, fire, rage, and cruelty would have taken my life. For a climax of misfortune, another troop -- Coming back from Montreal, Where they had set ambushes for the French -- said that one of their men had been killed, and two others wounded. Each one held me guilty of these adverse encounters; they were fairly mad with rage, awaiting me with impatience.

The Captain of the Dutch settlement where we were, -- not being ignorant of the evil plan of those Barbarians, and knowing, besides, that Sir Charles de Montmagny had prevented the Indians of New France from coming to kill some Dutch, -- disclosed to me means for escape. "There," said he to me, "is a vessel at anchor, which will sail in a few days; enter into it secretly. It is going first to Virginia, and from there it will carry you to Bordeaux or to la Rochelle, where it is to land."

Having thanked him, I tell him that the Iroquois, probably suspecting that someone had favored my retreat, might cause some damages to his people. "No, no," he answers, "fear nothing; this opportunity is favorable; embark; you will never find a more certain way to escape." My heart remained perplexed at these words, wondering if it were not better that I expose myself to the danger of the fire and to the fury of those Barbarians, to aid in the salvation of some soul. I said to him then: "Sir, the affair seems of such importance that I cannot answer You at once; give me the night to think of it. I will entrust it to our Lord; I will examine the arguments on both sides; and tomorrow morning I will tell you my final resolution." He granted me my request with astonishment; I spent the night in prayer, imploring our Lord that he should give me light, to know his most holy will. The reasons which might keep me in the country were consideration for the French and for the Indians; I felt love for them, and a great desire to assist them, -- such that I had decided to spend the remainder of my days in that captivity for their salvation; but I saw the face of affairs quite changed.

In the first place, as regarded our three Frenchmen, led captive into the Country as well as I: one of them, named Rene Goupil, had already been murdered at my feet; this young man had the purity of an Angel. Henry, whom they had taken at Montreal, had fled into the woods. While he was looking at the cruelties which were practiced upon two poor Hurons, roasted at a slow fire, some Iroquois told him that he would receive the same treatment, and I too, when I should return; these threats made him resolve rather to plunge into the danger of dying from hunger in the woods, or of being devoured by some wild beast, than to endure the torments which these half Demons inflicted. It was already seven days since he had disappeared. As for Guillaume Cousture, I saw scarcely any further way of aiding him, -- for they had placed him in a village far from the one where I was; and the Indians so occupied it on the near side of that place that I could no longer meet him. And that he himself had addressed me in these words: "My Father, try to escape; as soon as I shall see you no more, I shall find the means to get away. You well know that I stay in this captivity only for the love of you; make your efforts to escape, for I cannot think of my liberty and of my life unless I see You in safety." Also, this good youth had been given to an old man, who assured me that he would allow him to go in peace, if I could obtain my deliverance; consequently I saw no further reason which compelled me to remain on account of the French.

As for the Indians, I was without power and beyond hope of being able to instruct them; for the whole country was so irritated against me that I no longer found any opening to speak to them; and the Algonquins and the Hurons were compelled to withdraw from me, as from a victim destined to the fire, for fear of sharing in the hatred and rage which the Iroquois felt against me. I realized that I had some acquaintance with their language; that I knew their country and their strength; that I could perhaps better procure their salvation by other ways than by remaining among them. It came to my mind that all this knowledge would die with me, if I did not escape.

These Iroquois wretches had so little inclination to deliver us that they committed a treachery against the law and the custom of all these nations. An Indian from the country of the Sokoki Abenakis, allies of the Iroquois, having been seized by the upper Algonquins and taken a prisoner to Three Rivers, or to Quebec, was delivered and set free by the mediation of the Governor of New France, at the request of our Fathers. This good Indian, seeing that the French had saved his life, sent, in April, some fine presents, to the end that they should deliver at least one of the French. The Iroquois retained the presents, without setting one of them at liberty; this treachery is perhaps unique among these Peoples, -- for they inviolably observe this law, that whoever touches or accepts the present which is made to him, is bound to fulfill what is asked of him through that Present. This is why, when they are unwilling to grant what is desired, they send back the presents or make others in place of them.

Having weighed the reasons which inclined me to remain among those Barbarians or to leave them, I believed that I should take the opportunity to escape. Daylight having come, I went to greet the Dutch Governor, and declared to him the opinions that I had adopted. He summons the chief men of the ship, tells them his intentions, and urges them to receive me, and to keep me concealed, -- to convey me back to Europe. They answer that, if I can once set foot in their vessel, I am in safety; that I shall not leave it until I reach Bourdeaux or la Rochelle. "Well, then," the Governor said to me, "return with the Indians, and toward the evening, or in the night, steal away softly and move toward the river; you will find there a little boat which I will have kept all ready to carry you secretly to the Ship." After humbly returning thanks to all those Gentlemen, I withdrew from the Dutch, in order better to conceal my plan.

Toward evening, I retired with ten or twelve Iroquois into a barn, where we passed the night. Before lying down, I went out of that place, to see in what quarter I might most easily escape. The dogs of the Dutch, being then untied, run up to me; one of them, large and powerful, flings himself upon my leg, which is bare, and seriously injures it. I return immediately to the barn; the Iroquois close it securely, and, to guard me, come to lie down beside me, -- especially a certain man which had been assigned to watch me. Seeing myself troubled with those evil creatures, and the barn well closed, and surrounded with dogs, which would betray me if I attempted to go out, I almost believed that I could not escape. I complained quietly to my God, because, having given me the idea of escaping, he was stopping up the ways and paths of it. I spent also that second night without sleeping; the day approaching, I heard the cocks crow. Soon afterward, a servant of the Dutch farmer who had lodged us in his barn, entered it by some door or other, -- I confronted him softly, and made signs to him (for I did not understand his Flemish), that he should prevent the dogs from yelping. He goes out at once, and I after him, having previously taken all my belongings, -- which consisted of a copy of the "Little Office of Our Lady", of a little Gerson, and a wooden Cross that I had made for myself.

Being outside of the barn, without having made any noise, or awakened my guards, I cross over a fence which confined the enclosure about the house; I run straight to the river where the Ship was, -- this is all the service that my leg, much wounded, could render me: for there was a good half mile of road to make. I found the boat as they had told me, but, the water having subsided, it was aground. I push it, to set it afloat; not being able to do this, on account of its weight, I call to the Ship, that they bring the skiff to ferry me, -- But no news. I do not know whether they heard me; at all events, no one appeared. The daylight meanwhile was beginning to discover to the Iroquois the theft that I was making of myself; I feared that they might surprise me. Weary of shouting, I return to the boat: I pray God to increase my strength; I do so well, turning it end for end, and push it so hard that I get it to the water. Having made it float, I jump into it, and go all alone to the Ship, where I go on board without being discovered by any Iroquois. They lodge me immediately down in the hold; and to conceal me, they put a great chest over the hatchway.

I was two days and two nights in the belly of that vessel, with such discomfort that I thought I would suffocate and die with the stench. The second night of my voluntary prison, the Minister of the Dutch came to tell me that the Iroquois had made some disturbance, and that the Dutch inhabitants of the country were afraid that they would set fire to their houses, or kill their cattle; they have reason to fear them, since they have armed them with good muskets. To that I answer: "If the storm has risen on my account, I am ready to appease it by losing my life;" I had never the wish to escape to the prejudice of the least man of their settlement.

Finally, it was necessary to leave my cavern; all the Mariners were offended at this, saying that the promise of security had been given me in case I could set foot in the Ship; that I had put myself in peril of life by escaping upon their word; that it must be kept, whatever the cost. I asked that I be allowed to go forth, since the Captain who had disclosed to me the way of my flight was asking for me. I went to find him in his house, where he kept me concealed; these goings and these comings having occurred by night, I was not yet discovered. I might have alleged some reasons in all these encounters; but it was not for me to speak in my own cause, but rather to follow the orders of others, to which I submitted with good heart. Finally, the Captain told me that it was necessary to yield quietly to the storm, and wait until the minds of the Indians should be pacified; and that everyone was of this opinion. So there I was, a voluntary prisoner in his house, from which I am writing back to you the present letter.

That Ship which had wished to save my life, sailed without me. If Our Lord does not protect me in a manner almost miraculous, the Indians, who go and come here at every moment, will discover me; and if ever they convince themselves that I have not gone away, it will be necessary to return into their hands. If they had such a rage against me before my flight, what treatment will they inflict on me, seeing me fallen back into their power? I shall not die a common death; the fire, their rage, and the cruelties which they invent, will tear away my life. It is already twelve days that I have been concealed, -- it is quite improbable that misfortune will reach me.

From Renselaerswick (Albany), this 30th of August, 1643.

In another letter, written to the same Father Charles Lalemant, dated the 6th of January of this present year, Father Isaac Jogues speaks in these terms:

At last I am delivered; Our Lord has sent one of his Angels to release me from captivity. The Iroquois, having gone to the Dutch settlement toward the middle of September, finally accepted some presents which the Captain, who kept me concealed, made to them, to the amount of about 150 gold coins, which I will strive to repay. Matters being settled, I was sent to Manhattan, where dwells the Governor of all the country.

He received me humanely; he gave me a coat, and then had me go on board a barque which crossed the Ocean in the middle of Winter. Having put back into England, -- I boarded another barque, a Collier, which carried me into lower Brittany, with a nightcap on my head, and lacking all things, -- in the same way that you arrived at St. Sebastien, but not dripping with a second shipwreck.

Here is still another letter, which the Father has written to a person who felt toward him more envy than compassion, and who would have much desired to be the companion of his fortune:

My sins have rendered me unworthy to die among the Iroquois; I still live. I departed on the fifth of November from the Dutch settlement, in a barque of fifty tons, which conveyed me to Falmouth in England, the day before Christmas; and I arrived in Lower Brittany, between Brest and St. Paul de Leon, the day of Christmas.

An honest Merchant, having met me, took me and paid my way to Rennes, where I have arrived this day, the eve of Epiphany. What happiness, after having dwelt so long among Indians, after having conversed with Calvinists, with Lutherans, with Anabaptists, and with Puritans, to see oneself among servants of God, of the Catholic Church!

Father Raimbault, Father Dolbeau, and Father Davost are then dead? They were ripe for Paradise, and New France has lost in one year three persons who had greatly labored there. I do not know whether a copy of the Report of the Hurons has been received this year. The first copy was taken with the Hurons who were going down to the French, in June, and was restored to me in the country of the Iroquois, with a large package of letters which our Fathers with the Hurons were sending to France. If I had supposed that God intended to deliver me, I would have carried it with me when I went to visit the Dutch; but everything remained in the Cabin where I was.

AT RENNES, THIS 5TH OF JANUARY, 1644.

When I asked Father Isaac Jogues to relate to us the details of his capture and of his captivity, he answered me that he had written of that quite amply; but because I see every day that he is so reserved in speaking of himself that he may have omitted many interesting details, here follows what I have drawn from his lips on several occasions. After the combat of the Hurons, which was soon followed by their defeat, this good Father found himself in a place where he was not beyond hope of saving himself from their hands. But he soon noticed that the principal Christians of the Squad which accompanied him were taken, with a Frenchman. He himself called and summoned to him the Iroquois, to whom he surrendered, so he might be able to assist these poor captives. As soon as he had given himself up, they stripped him, leaving him only his shirt. They tore out his finger-nails, except two. It was necessary to make afterward a journey of about ten days, with great fatigues, and notable inconveniences from hunger, those Barbarians lacking provisions. Approaching within about a day's journey of the country, he was cruelly beaten, and all his fellow captives, by a band of two hundred Indians. They received the same treatment at the entrance to three Villages such that, during three days in which they were led in triumph from Village to Village, they received a countless number of beatings.

As those Barbarians were enraged against the French, and as they regarded the Father as one of the principal French Captains, the fury of the blows fell more especially on him. They were made to mount, during the day, upon scaffolds, to be exposed to the ridicule and to the insolence of those Barbarians. At night, they were taken into the Cabins, where the children tormented them with burning cinders and live coals. The fourth day of their arrival, they cut off the Father's left thumb, even to the root; they crushed and they burned the ends of the fingers from which they had torn off the nails. The left index finger appears to have been partly burned with a hot iron; it has remained somewhat crippled, -- though he has the free movement of the others which are left to him. The sixth day, they bound him to two stakes, as if they intended to burn him; the cords were so tight that he was likely, in a little time, to fall into a swoon, -- When a young Iroquois, touched with compassion and pity, unbound him. Some months later, the Father having encountered him sick, instructed and Baptized him; and soon afterward he died.

The seventh day, they were notified that it was the last of their lives, and that toward evening, their captors would begin burning them; these held a great council about that business. Meanwhile, the Father rallies his people, as a good Pastor his sheep; gives courage to the Christians, instructs them in the ways of deriving profit for Heaven out of these horrible cruelties; and baptizes some Hurons, still Christian trainees. When they were expecting their final sentence, the Indians, leaving the assembly, tell them that they should not die; they were, nevertheless, for four whole months, treated like victims destined to tortures. Finally, -- the Father having given notice of his capture to the Dutch, who are settled in the region near the Iroquois, -- the Governor of all the country wrote to the Captain who commands in the settlement nearest the Iroquois that he should strive to release him and the other French, his fellow captives. He made some presents to these Indians, -- as did also some Indians of a neighboring nation, for having been obliged at Quebec by the French; these presents somewhat softened the Iroquois, such that they gave liberty to the Father to go and to come where he would. This gave him opportunity to baptize about seventy persons, both Children and adults, most of whom are in Heaven; he also, by this means, maintained the captive Hurons in piety. These good deeds -- which had made him resolve not to escape, even when able to do so -- mitigated the rigor of his captivity.

The Iroquois, however, would not hear mention of his deliverance, -- imagining that, while they could retain the Father, the French of Quebec and other places round about would not dare to do them any harm, when they should come in pursuit of the Hurons and Algonquins. But the Father, despising his life, wrote back to the French that consideration for him should not prevent them from doing all that might be to the greater glory of our Lord, -- not unwilling to be the occasion for some Frenchmen, or some poor Indians, to be surprised and massacred by those Barbarians. At last, this poor Father having arrived in England, the Dutch went ashore to refresh themselves a little from a long voyage; some English robbers, entering the barque and having found only the Father all alone, plundered it, and seized from him and carried off the cloak and the hat which the Dutch had given him. You have been able to see, by his own letters, in what plight he arrived in France. In conclusion, he is as cheerful as if he had suffered nothing; and as zealous to return to the Hurons, amid all those dangers, as if perils were to him securities, he certainly expects to cross the Ocean once again, to go to aid those poor peoples, and to finish the sacrifice already begun.

AT RENNES, THIS 14TH OF JANUARY,

THOSE who believe that the Jesuits go into this end of the world to make trade of skins of dead beasts, account them rash, and destitute of sense, to expose themselves to such horrible dangers for a benefit so sordid. Only God can make them leave the comfort of France, to go in quest of fires and torments in the midst of Barbarism. Since this error about commerce might slip into the minds of those who are not acquainted with them, it has been judged proper to affix here an attestation, which will show how far they are removed from such thoughts. If they who speak of the Jesuits with freedom, for lack of knowing them, were with them in that new world, they would certainly change their tone; and becoming companions in their sufferings, they would find themselves united by like affections. Let us conclude with a genuine and impartial testimonial, which may be drawn from the lips of honorable persons, who have stamped it with their names and confirmed it with their signatures.

DECLARATION OF THE DIRECTORS AND ASSOCIATES IN THE COMPANY OF NEW FRANCE.

THE Directors and Associates in the Company of New France, called Canada, have learned that some persons circulate the report that the Jesuits have part in the shipments, returns, and Commercial Transactions which are made in this country, -- wishing by this device to disparage the reputation of the great labors which they undertake in the said country. The Directors are obliged by the duty of Christian Charity, to undeceive those who might have this belief: that these Jesuit Fathers are not associated in this Company of New France, directly or indirectly, and have no part in the trade of merchandise. In witness of which, the present declaration has been signed by these Directors and Associates, and sealed with the seal of this Company, at Paris, in the regular Assembly of the same, the first day of December 1643. Thus signed:

De la Ferte, Abbot de Saint Magdeleine, Bordier, Margonne, Beruyer, Robineau, Tabouret, Berruyer, Verdier, Fleuriau, Caset, Bourguet, and Clarentin; and sealed with a Seal.

YEAR 1644
LETTER FROM FATHER CHARLES GARNIER TO THE REVEREND FATHER MUTIUS VITELLESCHI, GENERAL OF THE JESUITS. 1644

Reverend Father,

Concerning our Jesuits who are in this mission of the Hurons, we have a man distinguished in virtue, discreet, and attached to his people. However, he lacks this little, -- that he does not sufficiently find his way into their hearts; yet there is nothing which urges his removal. But, when he shall be removed, no one seems equally worthy to be substituted in his place as Father Paul Ragueneau, as he is endowed with unusual graces of virtue, talent, prudence, and learning; and in many respects, he excels him whom we now have for superior, Reverend Father Jerome Lallemant.

So great is the difficulty of the roads, so horrible are the dangers, so great is the scarcity of provisions, that if these who have given themselves to us had not given themselves, certainly we would now be without servants, -- that is, this mission would soon collapse. Such are these servants that few like them are to be found who are hired, -- that is, pious, most prompt in obedience, and an unusual example to our Indians. The difficulty which we have experienced with the Indians, during many years, has taught us to value highly this last qualification; since the Indians objected to the corrupt morals of the French who first landed on these shores, -- so that they deemed only us Christians, who wear the black gown. Of so great importance is this matter of our servants, that with one voice it has seemed necessary to us to cry aloud to you.

To say something of our Indians: the fervor for the Gospel law increases daily. There are especially two villages in which are many Christians. There are some Christians and sacred buildings in other villages.

Charles Garnier.

At the Residence of Ste. Marie of the Hurons, April 8, 1644

NEW FRANCE IN 1643 AND 1644. SENT TO THE REV. FATHER JEAN FILLEAU, PROVINCIAL OF THE JESUITS IN THE PROVINCE OF FRANCE. BY FATHER BARTHELEMY VIMONT OF THE JESUITS, SUPERIOR OF THE WHOLE MISSION.

THE GENERAL CONDITION OF THE CHRISTIANS OF NEW FRANCE.

Disease, war, and famine are the three scourges with which God has smited our Neophytes since they have commenced to submit to his laws. Hardly had they heard of the Doctrine that we preach to them, when a contagious disease spread throughout all these nations, carrying off the healthiest. No sooner had disease ceased its ravages, than war -- which had previously been so much to their advantage that they had become Masters of their enemies' country, and had defeated them everywhere -- commenced, and has since continued to be so disastrous to them that they have lost all their best warriors, have been driven from their own country, and at present do nothing but flee from the cruelty of the Iroquois, who still often overtake them, and massacre them horribly.

Being compelled, because of this misfortune, to abandon the woods best suited for hunting, which lie to the South of the great river, and being exposed to the inroads of their enemies, they have fallen into the hands of a no less cruel enemy, hunger, -- which has brought many of them from the depths of the forest to our doors, to ask us for donations at a season when they were accustomed to hold a feast every day. We have seen some who have wandered in the woods for ten, fifteen, and twenty days, without other food than a piece of bark or of skin. Others decided to cross the great river at a time when everywhere its waters rolled down rocks and mountains of ice, to reach the woods to the South, despite their dread of their enemies, -- saying that they would as soon die by the fire of the Iroquois as by hunger; and as if misfortune accompanied them everywhere, after having been a thousand times in danger of losing their lives amid the ice and snow, they have come back without having eaten anything but the cords of their snowshoes. Those who have suffered the least are a portion of the Christians of Sillery and of Tadoussac, who, to avoid being disturbed by the Iroquois in their hunting, went into the woods to the South three months earlier than usual, and penetrated so far that the Iroquois did not find them, -- although they sought for them, as could be seen from their tracks. The result of this was that the Hospital Mothers and our Fathers at Sillery had on their hands throughout the Winter over forty Indians, most of whom were infirm or aged, who had to be fed at great expense, and who otherwise would have perished in the woods, from hunger and hardships.

All these events have so thinned the numbers of our Indians that, where eight years ago one could see eighty or a hundred cabins, barely five or six can now be seen; a Captain, who then had eight hundred warriors under his command, now has not more than thirty or forty; instead of fleets of three or four hundred Canoes, we see now but twenty or thirty. And the pitiful part of it is that these remnants of Nations consist almost entirely of women, widows or girls, who cannot all find lawful husbands, and who consequently are in danger of much suffering, or of committing great sins.

Such an accumulation of miseries would strengthen them in the belief, which they had at the beginning, that prayer caused them to die; that we were sorcerers, who had conspired against their lives; and that we had secret communication with their enemies. But God inspires them with other thoughts, and causes them to acknowledge that the hand that smites them is the hand of the true God whom they had not yet known, and whose judgments are as secret as they are equitable. We have, however, great reason to praise God, because he makes affliction serve for their conversion. When they were prosperous, we could hardly approach them; the French were dogs, and all that we preached them were fables. But since affliction has humiliated them, and necessity has made them more dependent upon the French, and has made them experience the effects of Christian charity, their eyes are opened.

The craft of the tricksters and sorcerers is gradually losing credit. Remote nations, attracted by the reputation of our good Christians, approach us to enjoy the same advantages that are obtained by those nearer to us. They are beginning to become accustomed to our habits; the difficulties that they have in submitting to Christian laws are disappearing more and more; virtue and modesty are now held in veneration by them, and even those who practice them the least still honor them outwardly. They now know and detest as vices many things that they formerly esteemed and falsely applauded as virtues.

This does not mean that all has been done. We have greater trouble in keeping our Christians than in acquiring them. Their wandering life is a great obstacle to virtue; and still the difficulties that exist with respect to their becoming settled are almost insurmountable. The land that we clear, the houses that we build for them, and the other aid, spiritual and material, that we attempt to give them, keep them stationary for a while, but not permanently. The French colony, which is the foundation of Christianity in these countries, continues to increase; but it does so slowly, because it does not receive sufficient aid from old France. The Kichesipirini Algonquins, and those of the Iroquet Algonquins Tribe, after so many years of instruction, are not so insolent as they formerly were; but they are not yet so humble as they must be to become worthy of Baptism. The examples of some of them who have abandoned the Faith, or who have profaned it by shameful actions, prevent us from baptizing many who present themselves. Marriages still give us much trouble. We are completely surrounded by Nations who have,, never seen us. If the great river once be free, it will give us access to Nations beyond number, and populous, -- some of whom have already heard of us and wish for us.

THE GOOD SENTIMENTS AND ACTIONS OF THE CHRISTIANS OF SAINT JOSEPH.

As soon as the Ships weighed anchor before Quebec to return to France, the majority of the Indians of this residence launched their bark canoes to go and hunt moose, -- anticipating their usual time of departure by three months, through fear of the Iroquois. These had threatened to come and attack them at our doors, and would have deprived them of the liberty of hunting far back in the forest, if they had not anticipated the time when they are accustomed to take the field and go to war. When they embarked, they could not refrain from showing us the regret that they felt at separating themselves from us for so long a time.

These good Neophytes had been hunting in the woods for three months, and were divided into various bands, when several families, who had not seen one another since the Autumn, met in the same place. The first thing that they did was to compare the papers that we had given them, to enable them to know the Festival days that they were to observe with respect.

All the provisions that they take with them, when they start for their hunt, consist of a bag of Indian corn and a few packages of smoked eels. This is little for six months.

As soon as the river began to be free by the departure of the ice, our hunters embarked to come back and see us. A furious storm that arose when they were in the middle of the great river nearly snatched them from us. They did not feel this danger so keenly as the loss of a sailboat that we had lent them; for they were afraid of the displeasure we might feel at its loss. But Noel Tekwerimatch soon consoled them by assuring them that the Fathers were firm believers, and that whoever believes firmly cares not for the goods of the earth.

The first thing that they did on approaching the shore, was to ask us whether that day was not the eve of what is respected (so they call Sunday). This was the case. Afterward, they landed, entered the Chapel and handed us the bodies of four or five little children who had been baptized, and had since died in the woods, neatly wrapped up in bark, to be buried with the rites of the Church; and they brought as many newborn ones to be baptized. Then, speaking to their Father director, they added: "Hold yourself ready to confess us." We had to remain awake that and the following nights, to satisfy their devotion. There was one man who wished to confess himself two or three times a day, saying that it was to atone for the fault he had committed in remaining so long without confession.

CONTINUATION OF THE GOOD SENTIMENTS AND ACTIONS OF THE CHRISTIANS OF SAINT JOSEPH.

THE fervor of Charles Meiaskwat is as agreeable as it is fervent. Before being baptized, he had taken a wife who was of an arrogant and violent temper, and who had no inclination toward the Faith. Still, he made himself worthy of Baptism and received it, while she always stubbornly persisted in her unbelief. He tried to soothe her, and to incline her gradually to the Faith, with admirable patience. He succeeded; she urgently asked for Baptism and obtained it. It was proposed that they be married according to the Church, so as to give to their marriage the character and the grace of that Sacrament. They both agreed to this, and proceeded to the Church to receive the Blessing of the Priest, who first asked Charles if he took such a one for his wife. "Wait a little," answered Charles; and turning to his wife, he said: "But you, will you continue to be proud, disobedient, and ill-tempered, as in the past? Answer me; for, if you will not behave better, I will not take you for my wife, -- I shall easily find another." She was quite abashed, and replied that she would conduct herself better in future. "Speak louder," said Charles; "I do not hear you. When you are angry, you scream like a mad woman; and now you will not open your mouth." The poor woman had to shout aloud, and protest publicly that she would be obedient to her husband, and live with him in gentleness and in the utmost humility. "That is right," said Charles, "provided you do as you say; otherwise, you will cause me to be angry; and if I get angry, I shall go to Hell, and so will you." Then speaking to the Father, "Go on," he said, "I am satisfied. I will always love her as my only and my lawful wife." We have never seen a greater change than in this woman, who has now become a lamb, and has deep and affectionate feelings of devotion.

A brave woman manifests admirable fervor for the purity of the girls. When the young men come back from war, she carefully assembles all the girls and locks them in at night, or shuts them up in the houses that we have built for them in the manner of the French, or in the granaries where they keep their provisions. One night, while we were reciting the prayers in our chapel, she suddenly entered and hurried us out. We found that she called us to help her against some young men, who were walking about near a house in which some girls were shut up. This was enough to drive them from Sillery, where the slightest suspicion on this head is criminal.

There are many who accuse themselves, as of a grievous sin, that some young men have spoken to them of marriage, -- although they have coldly answered to this that the matter did not depend upon them, but upon their parents. One night a band of young girls came to our door and called out: "My Father, have pity on us." We asked what was the matter. "We are afraid," they said, "of some young men who are not well behaved. We are not safe in our cabins; lock us up in one of those small houses."

A Christian who was innocent in other respects, and a good man, had become intoxicated, -- not so much through his own fault as through that of a Frenchman, who had invited him to drink. He had to give satisfaction to God, whom he had offended; and to men, whom he had scandalized. Father Dequen administered a severe reprimand to him, in the presence of all the Indians, and ordered him to kiss the ground three times, and to fast for three consecutive days. This he performed with humility, and to the education of all present. Besides, he had to pay the fine that has been imposed, with the consent of the Indians themselves, on those who become intoxicated.

He went to the fort for that purpose, where, after having been again scolded by the Governor for his offense, he threw down three Beaver skins. "There," said he, "I throw away my wickedness. I am not sorry to give my Beaver skins, but I am sorry to give them for this purpose. I have offended God, and have lost his friendship; that is what afflicts me, and not the loss of my Beaver skins. It is the first time that I have been intoxicated; it shall be the last. He who made me drink has no sense; but I should not have obeyed him -- I should have notified you. That is what I will do another time, if the same thing happens to me." Such strong measures seem lenient to our Christians, but are none the less effective.

I shall conclude this Chapter by the public education given by the Christians of Sillery, when about to go to war against the Iroquois. The rendezvous was at Three Rivers, where there were one hundred and twenty Warriors, among whom were some bad Christians and several infidels. Ours always wished to have separate cabins, so as to have no communication with the wicked ones. Some of the wicked held a war feast, in which they introduced (in accordance with their old custom) naked girls. Those of our people who suspected this did not go. The others, who went there unwittingly, detested such impiety, and expressed strong resentment at it. Sir de Chamflour, the Governor of Three Rivers, inflicted a corporal punishment on all who had participated in this offense, by driving them out of his Fort: and Father Brebeuf inflicted spiritual punishment by expelling them from the Church.

On the eve of their departure, they passed the whole night in superstitious feasts, in dances, and in uttering horrible yells and cries. Our people passed it in the Chapel, praying to God and confessing themselves. This is what Father Buteux says, who saw them at Montreal, and who came with them down to Three Rivers. "They were," he says, "the first to embark, to go and discover the enemy, and to penetrate into the woods at the most dangerous points. They went everywhere with heads erect and without any sign of fear. When I took my prayer book to pray, he who commanded in that sailboat, and the other Christians in imitation of him, took their Rosaries, which they recited devoutly when the wind dispensed them from the necessity of using their paddles."

THE HOSPITAL.

THE Iroquois, who are the true persecutors of this new Church, have spread terror this year throughout the country. They were divided last Spring into ten bands, scattered along the great River, to take all whom they came across. One of these bands captured Father Bressany, and the Hurons who were conducting him to their country, on the 28th day of April, 10 miles above Three Rivers. Another group massacred three Frenchmen at Montreal and took two others captive, whom they have since burned in their country, according to the report of a Huron who escaped from their hands. Many Indians of the residence of Saint Joseph were terrified, and had cause to believe that the enemies would come further down. For that reason, they took flight, which compelled the Hospital Nuns, by the advice of the Governor, of the Fathers, and of the inhabitants, to move to their house in Quebec, -- with great inconvenience because the building had as yet but the four walls and the roof. But they had this consolation, that the Indians, both healthy and sick, had become accustomed to and familiar with that holy house and had lost their unwillingness to come to them at Quebec in their necessities and sickness.

Noel Tekwerimatch, Captain of Sillery, who had gone to Three Rivers during these rumors, asked Father Brebeuf, who was then there, to write to the Hospital nuns that, as soon as the crops were sown, they were to withdraw to Quebec, and to take with them all the women, children, and old men until his return. This could not be fully carried out; but, when the Nuns left Sillery, all the Indian women came to Quebec, and built two cabins near the Nuns' house, -- one for the men who were working at the building, and the other for the sick, until a ward could be prepared for them; and they at once sent there two or three of their people who were sick, and who were afterward followed by some others. The Indians visited them at every opportunity, and urged them to complete the building of a suitable house to enable them to pass the Winter and to be protected against the snow and ice.

Their charity has this year aided over 35 sick, of whom Heaven has taken ten; and in addition to these sick persons, many Indians have passed two or three days in this house of mercy for the purpose of undergoing purgation, and of taking medicines for the prevention of some disease with which they felt themselves threatened.

THE URSULINE SEMINARY.

THE arrival of the ships increased the joy in this little seminary, for they brought to it safe and sound two brave Ursulines, who, like the others, scorned the dangers of the sea, and, in spite of all the fatigues of a long journey, never looked back. The choice of these two worthy persons was made by the Archbishop of Tours, who on being requested by the Superioress of the little Convent of Quebec to send them a reinforcement, doubted whether he should expose to the continued dangers of the Ocean, girls who lived there in security. But, seeing that the road was already opened, and that he could not refuse so holy a request, he went to the house of the Ursulines of Tours, listened to those who had the most enthusiasm and fervor for that mission, and, after having diligently questioned them, he gave his Blessing to sister Anne de Saint Cecile and sister Anne de Notre Dame. And, as evidence of his desire to support this little seminary, he caused these two good maidens to be conveyed in his own Carriage to Poitiers.

The Ursulines have little French girls as pupils; they also have some as boarders; and as the country becomes more settled, they will have more occupation. They have resident and transient seminarists, taken from the cabins of the Indians. Their grated parlors are sometimes visited by the new Christians and by the good Neophytes, who go to visit them, to hear about matters relating to Heaven. There are sisters in this house who speak Algonquin, and others who speak Huron.

This year, a seminarist who had desired to become a Nun passed from this life to a better one. Her name was Agnes Chabwekwechich. Her parents had withdrawn her from the seminary to make use of her for light work, as she was already grown up. While paddling in one of their little canoes, she fell into the great river. Her brother-in-law jumped into the water and saved her from death as she was about to sink to the bottom. He also saved her companions, who were wrecked at the same time. As they did not warm this poor girl, whom the cold of an already severe season had brought within two finger-lengths of death, she lingered only until about Christmastide.

Grown women, and even other persons, visit the Ursulines in their grated parlor, and ask them for instruction. Others leave their daughters there as if on deposit, for several months, while they are away on their great hunts. This suits them admirably, for they have not the trouble of dragging them after them in the woods. They are sure that their children will suffer from neither hunger nor cold while with those good mothers. A poor woman wished, on that account, to leave her daughter with the others; the child could not remain so long away from her mother; she cried, she grieved, until finally she was sent back to her parents. The mother was sorry for it, and said: "My daughter has no sense. I hoped that she would teach me what she would have learned from the good Mothers during the Winter, and now I am disappointed in my expectations."

SOME APOSTATES.

ALTHOUGH this new Church is in the fervor of its beginning, it cannot avoid suffering scandal through the acts of some bad Christians.

The source of all these scandals is none other than the liberty that our Indians have always had, and that they would like to retain, of having as many wives as they please, and of leaving them according to their fancy. So it results that, of all the Christian laws which we propound to them, there is not one that seems so hard to them as what forbids polygamy, and does not allow them to break the bonds of lawful marriage. As they hate anything which restricts their liberty, they find it difficult to bend their necks to a yoke which they cannot lawfully change or set aside; and they no longer look upon Christian marriage as an aid and comfort of human life, but as a servitude full of vexation and bitterness. It is this that prevents most of the infidels from accepting the Faith, and has caused some to lose it who had already embraced it. There are many who give us every satisfaction on this point, faithfully observing all the laws of Marriage, without any trouble. However, this year there have been two who have given scandal in this matter, and have disturbed the Peace of this little Church.

The name of the first is Estienne Pigarouich; that of the second Francois Kokweribagougouch. Estienne Pigarouich was, before his Baptism, one of the most famous Sorcerers of his Tribe, and one who gave the most trouble to those who labored for his conversion. But at last, after several contests, he embraced our belief and professed it with as much enthusiasm as he had formerly contended against it. He it was who called and brought the others to the prayers, who chastised the wicked, and who preached our doctrine in the Churches and in the cabins with an eloquence that savored in no way of barbarism. This fervor continued while he was in the company of the Christians of saint Joseph; but after he left them to go up to Three Rivers, at which place were the Kichesipirini Algonquins, his countrymen, and those of the Iroquet Algonquins, -- who are two Tribes extremely insolent, arrogant, full of superstitions, and immoral, -- he soon allowed himself, with his comrade, to be corrupted by such bad company, so that both abandoned their lawful wives with the practice of the Faith, and took each a concubine.

The wickedness of Estienne Pigarouich and of some other bad Christians, infidels, and sorcerers, who were in a band traveling to Sillery, and who had behaved in an insolent manner at Three Rivers, made us resolve with the Governor to give them a harsh reception, to make them comprehend their fault still more.

Fear of the Iroquois and famine compelled them to come down to Quebec, where they hoped to be protected by the neighborhood of the French, and to receive from their charity, which they had always experienced on similar occasions, some relief from the hunger that pressed them. But they were surprised, on their arrival, to see that those who had formerly received them with open arms, appeared now with angry faces, spoke to them only with insults, and closed their doors to them as to excommunicated persons.

They first came to our house at Sillery and were driven off with a sharp reprimand. They went to the Hospital Mothers, and were sent away. They brought some sick persons, and were not admitted. They went to the houses of the inhabitants, who all closed their doors to them. They wished to enter the Church, and were forbidden to do so. They went to the Gentlemen of the Company of New France at the Storehouse, and were turned away. They cried out that they were dying of hunger, and that, no one gave them anything to eat. They threw down beaver skins, collars of wampum beads, and all the most valuable things that they had, for a piece of bread; and their presents were rejected. They prepared to build their cabins near the French, and the Governor gave orders to forbid them to approach, or to hold any communication with the French, until they had driven away the two Apostates, and had atoned for the faults committed at Three Rivers.

THE SEMINARY OF THE HURONS AT THE THREE RIVERS, AND OF THEIR CAPTURE, WITH THAT OF FATHER JOSEPH BRESSANY, BY THE IROQUOIS.

THE Seminary of the Hurons that we maintain here has this year been extraordinarily fortunate, and, humanly speaking, extraordinarily unfortunate. It has been extraordinarily fortunate, because it has consisted of six excellent Neophytes. On the other hand, it has been extraordinarily unfortunate, because these poor Christians fell into the hands of the Iroquois, to serve as a prey for the flames, and for their stomachs hungering after the flesh and blood of all these peoples who hear us.

Four of them had left their own country last Autumn, to come and winter here, and to be instructed at leisure, hoping to derive great benefit from the good examples both of our French and of the Christian Indians, of whose virtue and good habits they had heard through the reports of their countrymen who had wintered here in previous years, and had been impressed by it. The fear of the Iroquois, of hunger, and of numerous other great dangers and hardships that have to be encountered on so long a journey, was not sufficient to prevent them from coming. The two others were captives who came and threw themselves into our hands, after escaping from those of the Iroquois, who had taken them prisoners, -- one since the capture of Father Jogues, by whom he was baptized; and the other, after the disastrous defeat of the Hurons near Montreal. This disaster was caused by an act of treachery on the part of the Iroquois, who, having attracted the Hurons into their Fort under pretext of peace and friendship, massacred some and made prisoners of the others, excepting a few who fled, quite naked, to Montreal.

These six Hurons met together, by a fortunate coincidence, at the Three Rivers, at the beginning of November, after having escaped many dangers. They found there Father Brebeuf, whom they sought; he received them into our house, and took charge of their instruction and maintenance, -- being assisted by the liberality of the Governor, who spares nothing on such occasions; also of Sir de Chamflour, the commandant of the Fort and settlement of Three Rivers; and even of the reverend Hospital Mothers, whose charity extends frequently beyond the bounds of their Hospital, especially in favor of the Hurons.

When Spring came, and the river began to be somewhat free through the disappearance of the ice, some of our Seminarists decided to embark on the return to their own country, -- promising to speak there boldly in favor of the Faith. In fact, there was every prospect that they would advance the Faith in their country; for they were nearly all grown men, with good minds, well taught, and zealous for the conversion of their people, -- one especially, who had already been chosen as a war Captain. Besides this, they would have spoken favorably of the French, and of our Fathers, who had loaded them with fine gifts and shown them every kindness. But all these hopes were vain, and we would have reason to fear that the accident which has happened to our Seminarists might spoil all our affairs in the Huron country instead of advancing them; for these peoples may imagine that we bring all these misfortunes upon them, and that our company is fated to cause their ruin and desolation.

Our Neophytes embarked in three canoes, on the 27th of April, with Father Joseph Bressany, -- an Italian by Birth, whom our Reverend Father General had sent here to us, two years ago, -- and a young French lad, who was sent to serve our Fathers. It was believed that there would not be much danger upon the river; and our Hurons especially were of opinion that, as the ice had not yet entirely disappeared, the Iroquois had not had time to come from their country. Besides, they imagined that Peace had already been concluded between them and the Iroquois, because of overtures commenced upon this subject before they had left their own country. This persuaded us to risk several packages for our Fathers among the Hurons, owing to the need in which they were, after so many losses.

All these assurances did not prevent the Father and the Hurons from preparing themselves as persons who might soon die. All were ready alike for life or for death, nor were they without some outward indications; for Father Bressany's canoe was wrecked about 2 miles from Three Rivers, at a place where there was no danger, and in fine weather. Owing to the proximity of the land, all in the canoe was saved; but this accident stopped them, and compelled them to sleep at this side of the entrance to the Lake. When they started from there on the following day, the cold and the quantity of snow that fell delayed them, and did not allow them to proceed farther than the Marguerie river, 15 miles beyond Three Rivers. Here the Hurons fired a few gun shots at some Canadian geese; this made their presence known to thirty Iroquois who were not far away, and who prepared an ambush for them beyond the river, behind a point which they had to double. Consequently, on the third day after their departure, when the canoe which carried Father Bressany, and which led the way, reached that point, it was immediately attacked by three Iroquois canoes. On seeing them, the Father commanded his people not to fight, as their side was not of equal strength, in either men or arms. The enemies drew near, seized the Father and the two Hurons who accompanied him, and declared them their prisoners.

Meanwhile the two other Huron canoes attempted to escape by flight, and were already so far away that they thought they were out of danger, when, on doubling another point, they saw two other Iroquois canoes, strongly manned, which attacked them. In this encounter, one of our Hurons, named Bertrand Sotrioskon, tried to use his gun, but was prevented from doing so by an Iroquois who felled him in his canoe, quite dead; this so frightened the others that they allowed themselves to be taken without further resistance.

The enemies landed, with their prisoners; broke open all the packages containing the articles needed by our Fathers, who have received nothing for three years: tore up the letters that we sent them; and equally divided the spoils. They then threw themselves on the body of the man whom they had killed; they tore his heart out of his breast, and scalped him; they cut off his lips, and the most fleshy parts of his thighs and legs, which they boiled and ate in the presence of the captives.

At the time, they committed no outrage on Father Bressany or on the other captives whom they carried off to their country, with the exception of one who escaped halfway. This was Henry Stontrats, -- a man of mature age and mind, and a most excellent Christian, -- who told us all the circumstances attending their capture. He assured us that the Iroquois had neither stripped nor bound Father Bressany, and had left him his prayer book, and all the small articles that he carried on his person; but that they had threatened to burn him at the entrance of their village, as he had been given in the place of a celebrated Iroquois recently killed at Montreal by the French. The good Father was prepared for this, and, according to the account of the Huron who escaped, he went his way quite joyful and content, consoling and encouraging his companions.

Henry Stontrats added that, since the end of the Winter, in less than a month, ten bands of Iroquois warriors had started from their country to war against the French, Algonquins, and Hurons. The first two had gone to Chaudiere Falls, a place famous for Iroquois ambushes and Huron defeats; the third, to the foot of the long Sault; the fourth, above Montreal; the fifth, to the Island of Montreal itself. He said that this last consisted of 80 warriors, who lay there three days in ambush, watching the French of that settlement, who saw and boldly attacked them. Finally, -- after a long resistance, in which the French killed some of the Indians and wounded many, -- the French were compelled to fall back, having lost five out of their thirty men, three of whom were killed and two taken prisoner. The prisoners were afterward burned alive, during four days, with frightful tortures. The sixth band, consisting of 40 warriors, had marched toward the Riviere des Prairies, where they surprised a group of Algonquins, who were all carried off as captives, and most of these were immediately burned at the Iroquois village. The seventh is that which captured Father Bressany and our Hurons, -- among whom, in addition to the Iroquois, there were six Hurons, and 3 of the Mahicans, who are naturalized Iroquois. The 8th is a band of 30, who met our prisoners on the way; they cut off a finger from the hand of Henry, who afterward escaped, and one from that of Michel Atiokwendoron, and threatened the Father, -- without, however, doing him any harm. This band, who were coming to attack the Three Rivers, were to leave a letter that they had received from Father Bressany, at the end of a stick, on the bank of the great river; but nothing was found save this Father's canoe that had been given to that band, and was afterward left behind and recognized near Three Rivers. The 9th band made its appearance at Richelieu; and the 10th went in the direction of the Huron country; besides, there are several others that have started or will start later.

That is what the Huron relates who accomplished his escape, and who -- having reembarked not long after, with some others who had recently come down from their country -- again fell, with all his companions, into the hands of the Iroquois. They will not fail to put him to death, according to their custom, -- not only because he was already destined for death at his first capture, and in revenge for another Iroquois killed at Montreal, but because of his flight, which is a crime among them that they do not forgive.

Such has been the end of our Seminary for the Hurons. We regret the loss of Father Bressany, -- an excellent laborer in these Missions, of whom we had great expectations. It has pleased Our Lord to give us back Father Jogues, and he has taken Father Bressany from us. We would have been deprived of all knowledge of what has happened to Father Bressany since the time of his capture, had we not heard it from a trustworthy person who was an eyewitness of all that he suffered during his captivity. After the first encounter, related above, the Iroquois crossed Lake saint Pierre, and took the captives, for their sleep, to a damp but retired place, -- where the Father and his companions, all securely bound, passed the night without any shelter but the Sky, or other bed than the earth. This was their usual lot, every night throughout the journey.

On the following day, they were made to embark; and after two days' navigation, they met another band of Iroquois, who, overjoyed at this capture, gave the Father several blows with cudgels and threatened him with rougher treatment. When the last arrivals informed the others of the death of one of their most distinguished companions, which had happened at Montreal, the Father was no longer spared.

After two days' navigation, he landed, and walked for six days barefooted through the woods, brush, and swamps, -- fasting until about four o'clock in the afternoon, when a halt was made for the purpose of taking a rest. But hardly any was given to the Father, who, wet with rain, with the water of melting snows, of the torrents, and of the rivers that had to be crossed, was compelled to assume all the tasks of the cooking. He was sent for the water and wood; and when he did not do well, or did not understand what was said to him, blows from cudgels were not lacking, -- nor were they, whenever the group encountered Hunters and Fishermen.

When the six days had expired, he had to embark on Lake Ontario, which they crossed in 8 days; they then landed, and walked for three days more.

On the fourth day, which was the fifteenth of May, about three o'clock in the afternoon, while he was still fasting, they reached a place where there were about 400 Indians, who had built their cabins there for fishing. About 500 feet beyond the cabins, the Father was stripped quite naked; and when the Indians had ranged themselves in two lines, facing each other, and armed with cudgels, he was ordered to march the first of all through the ranks of the band. No sooner had he lifted his foot than one of the Iroquois seized him by the left hand, and with a knife inflicted a deep gash between the third and the little fingers; and then the others discharged on him a shower of blows with cudgels, and led him to the cabins. There they made him ascend a scaffold raised about six feet from the ground, -- quite naked, bathed in his own blood that flowed from nearly every part of his body, and exposed to a cold wind that congealed his blood on his skin; and they ordered him to sing during the feast that they gave to those who had brought in the prisoners.

When the feast was over, the warriors withdrew and left the Father and his companions in the hands of the young men, who made them descend from the scaffold, on which they had stood for two hours, exposed to the jeers of these Indians. When they had come down, they were made to dance, after their fashion. But, as the Father did not do it well, they struck him, goaded him, and tore out his hair. Five or six days were spent in this pastime. Someone, out of compassion, threw him some shreds of a gown, with which to cover himself. He made use of it during the day; but at night they took it from him, and, gathering round him, one goaded him with a sharp stick; another burned him with a firebrand; others seared him with calumets (tobacco pipes) heated red-hot. The children threw on him hot embers and glowing coals. Then they made him walk around the fire where they had stuck short, pointed sticks into the ground, and had scattered hot embers and live coals; others tore out his beard and his hair. Every night, they would begin again this diverting sport; and at the end, they would burn one of his nails or one of his fingers during seven or eight minutes. One night, they would burn a nail; another night, the first joint of a finger; on another, the second joint. Thus they applied fire to his fingers over eighteen times. They pierced his left foot with a stick, and, meanwhile, he was compelled to sing. This little amusement lasted until fully two hours after midnight; and then they left him there, lying flat on the ground in a spot where rain fell abundantly, -- his only covering being a small skin that did not cover one half of his body. A whole month passed in this manner.

From this place, he was taken to the first Village of the Iroquois, and suffered more on this journey than on the previous one, -- being wounded, feeble, poorly clad, with little food, and at night exposed to the air and bound to a tree; so that, instead of sleeping, he could only shiver with the cold. On arriving at the first Village, he was received with severe blows, administered with cudgels on the most sensitive parts of his body; but the blows were so heavy that he fell to the ground, half dead. They still continued to strike him on the chest and on the head, and would have killed him, had not a Captain dragged him on the scaffold that had been erected, as on the first occasion. Here they cut off his left thumb, and two fingers of his right hand, after first slitting his hand between the second and middle fingers. Meanwhile, there came a heavy shower accompanied by thunder and lightning, which drove the Indians away, and so they left him there quite naked. As night approached, they took him into a cabin where they burned the remainder of his nails and some of his fingers, twisted his toes, and forced him to eat filth and what the dogs had left, without giving him any rest.

After he had been so tortured in that Village, he was taken to another, at a distance of 5 or 7 miles, where again he had to suffer the same torments. He was hung up in chains, by the feet; and when he was taken down, his feet, his hands, and his neck were bound with the same chains.

Seven days passed in this manner, and new tortures were added; for he was made to suffer in places and in ways concerning which propriety will not allow us to write. Sagamite was poured on his stomach and the dogs were called to eat the sagamite, biting him as they ate. All these sufferings reduced him to such a state that he became so offensive to the smell that all kept away from him as from carrion and approached only to torment him. He was covered with pus and filth, and his sores were alive with maggots. With all this, he could hardly find anyone who would give him a little Indian corn boiled in water. The blows that he had received caused an abscess to form on his thigh that allowed him no rest, -- which was difficult to obtain on account of the hardness of the ground, on which he stretched his body, that was only skin and bone. He did not know how he could succeed in opening his abscess, but God guided the hand of an Indian -- who wished to stab him three times with a knife -- so that the Indian struck him directly on the abscess, from where flowed an abundance of pus and blood, and therefore he was cured. Who would ever have thought that any man could have suffered so much without dying; without language with which to make himself heard; without friends to console him; without Sacraments, and without any remedy with which to alleviate his suffering? He did not know why the Indians deferred his death so long, -- unless, perhaps, to fatten him before eating him; but they did not take the means to do so. Finally, on the 19th of June, the Iroquois gathered together from all the Villages, to the number of 2,000, in the Village where the Father was, who thought that that day would be the last of his life. After the meeting, he asked the Captain that the torture by fire might be changed for another; as for death, he would welcome it. "Not only will you not suffer by fire," replied the Captain, "but what is more, you will not die. That has been resolved." I do not know how they came to take that resolution; but they themselves were afterward astonished at it, without knowing why.

That resolution taken, they gave him, with all the ceremonies usual in the country, to a good woman whose grandfather had formerly been killed by the Hurons in an encounter. This woman received him; but her daughters could not bear him, because he inspired them with such horror. I do not know whether it was this that led the mother to think of his deliverance, or whether it was through compassion that she took on him, or, rather, because she saw that he was unfit for work owing to the mutilation of his fingers, and was convinced that he would be a burden upon her. In any case, she ordered her son to take him to the Dutch, and, on receiving some present from them, to deliver him into their hands. This the son faithfully carried out.

But, before leaving, the Father baptized a Huron who was being taken to the torture, and who asked for Baptism before dying. This the Father granted him, but it could not be done so secretly that the Iroquois did not see it, so they compelled him to go out and leave the Huron. When he was dead, they brought his limbs into the cabin where the Father was, and, after cooking them, they ate them in his presence; then, placing the head of the dead man at his feet, they asked: "Well! of what help was Baptism to him?"

If the Father could have explained himself in their language, it would have been a good opportunity for him to instruct them. It was, still, a profound consolation to have been there so opportunely for the happiness of that poor Indian. He started shortly afterward, in the company of the young Indian, the son of the good widow, who took him to the Dutch. He was received by them with great kindness, and they satisfied the Indian beyond all his expectations; they gave the Father clothes, and, after keeping him with them for some time, until his health was restored, they put him on board a ship. He reached la Rochelle, on the fifteenth of November, 1644, in better health than he has ever enjoyed since he has belonged to our Jesuits.

THE CAPTURE OF THREE IROQUOIS.

A BAND of sixty Hurons who had come down toward the French with the intention of fighting the Iroquois, if they encountered them, reached the Three Rivers without meeting an enemy. But they had not long been there, when information was brought them that some canoes had made their appearance on Lake saint Pierre, which is only 5 miles above Three Rivers. They hurried there at once, accompanied by some Algonquins who wished to join them. Finding only signs and traces of the enemy, they went farther up, as far as Richelieu, which is at the Mouth of the river of the Iroquois (Richelieu River). When they reached that settlement, some of them rested; while the others, thinking that the Iroquois were not far away, embarked at night on that river to go and seek them.

They passed through the Iroquois sentinels, without being noticed. Thirty Iroquois were posted as pickets below their main body, to watch for any French or any Indians of our allies who might show themselves, on the water or on land. As the night was dark, they did not see those young warriors who were ascending, against the current of the river, to discover the enemy. They heard some noise, however. When the Hurons had advanced some distance, they observed a number of fires in the woods. Having ascertained that they were enemies, and judging from the number of their fires that the forces were unequal, they withdrew a little, to consult as to what they should do. While halting, they heard in their rear two canoes, propelled by many paddles. They were surprised, because they had not observed these as they passed through them.

It was the ambush of those thirty Iroquois who, suspecting that there was someone on the river, wished to find out who it was. Here were our Hurons between the main body of their enemies and these two well-manned canoes. They turned toward the two canoes, and both sides fired musket shots and arrows without much effect, owing to the darkness of the night. The two canoes retreated to their main body. A Huron who had been captured in battle by the Iroquois and had taken sides with them, left them under cover of night, and, running along the bank of the river, he called out to the Hurons, who were in doubt as to whether they should renew the fight. After some distrust of this man, they drew near to him. He called out that he belonged to their Nation, and that he desired to escape with them. "How many of you are here?" he asked. "We are but sixty," replied the Hurons. "Fly," he said; "for, besides the two canoes that you met, which contained thirty Iroquois, there are a hundred hidden not far from here." He did not include those who were scattered in troops along the great river. Another Huron, who had hidden himself in the edge of the wood and had listened to the Iroquois, told them that ten out of the band of thirty had detached themselves to hunt for Frenchmen.

Those ten hunters were quite near fort Richelieu, hidden amid the brushwood and trees, where they were waiting until the French should come out in the morning to visit the nets stretched near their fort. The warriors, on hearing this, went to reconnoiter that ambush; and on discovering it, they tried to surround it. But, when the spies saw that they were found out, they rose like a covey of frightened Partridges; and having neither wings nor feet sufficiently swift to allow their all escaping, three of them fell into the hands of our Hurons. They gave one to the Algonquins, who commenced to treat him in a barbarous manner. As there were many enemies around Richelieu, they did not feel safe; so both Hurons and Algonquins embarked to go down to the Three Rivers, where they brought their prisoners in triumph.

On the 26th of July, at 4 o'clock in the morning, a canoe was observed from Three Rivers floating down the current. When it had approached within earshot, the sad voice of an Algonquin was heard, calling out that one of the Hurons who had gone to the war was dead. But he was mistaken. It was quite true that one of those three Iroquois, on being captured, had stabbed with his knife the Huron who had seized him; and that the wound was considered mortal. But it was not so, although his lung was badly injured, and a portion of it protruded. The surgeon cut this off; and strange to say, when he threw it on the ground, a Huron picked it up, roasted it, and gave it to the wounded man to eat. He swallowed it, singing: "That is strange medicine."

Soon afterward, joyful voices were heard from afar; and from twelve to fifteen canoes made their appearance on the great river, floating gently down with the current, bearing about eighty warriors, who struck their paddles against the sides of the canoes, and sang all together, -- making the prisoners dance in time to their voices, and to the noise that they made. They were all seated in these little Bark boats, with the exception of the three poor victims, who appeared above the others, and who sang as boldly as the victors, -- showing by the swaying of their bodies, and the look in their eyes, that the fire and death that they expected caused them no fear. All the people came out to witness this Triumph of the Indians. Joy animated the souls of the victors, while sorrow distressed those of the vanquished.

When all had landed, they were taken to the cabins of the Algonquins. Some threw themselves on him who had been given to them, tore out his nails, cut off several of his fingers, and burned his feet with heated stones. Sir de Chamflour, the commandant of the settlement, sent word to them to desist; that information had to be given to Sir Charles de Montmagny, the Governor of the country, of the capture of the prisoners and that the matter was important.

It was difficult to control the fury of these minds that were vindictive to the last degree, for this poor wretch had been given in the place of a brave Algonquin, taken prisoner and burned by the Iroquois. All those who loved the dead man vented their wrath on this one who was but half alive.

the Governor arrived, and assembled the principal Algonquins. But, as their vengeance had already devoted the victim to the flames, they replied that his life was disposed of, -- that the stake was already prepared; that they would treat him in the same manner as the Iroquois treated them, when they fell into their hands. Indeed, he would have been burned that night, had not Sir Charles de Montmagny caused orders to be given them in a emphatic manner. The violence of their fury was therefore restrained; and the Christians were secretly advised to represent the importance of the matter to their countrymen, -- that overtures of peace could be made only through those captives, and that peace meant the welfare and salvation of the whole country. When their first feelings of rage were appeased, they became more pliable.

The Hurons were also spoken to about giving up their prisoners; but they turned a deaf ear. Some Indians, who saw what the Governor desired, made him understand their fashion of delivering prisoners. They handed him thirty-two or thirty-three straws, saying that a similar number of presents would speak more effectively for the deliverance of the prisoners, than the most eloquent tongues in the world; and that it was how those who wished for peace should act. Indeed, feasts, presents, and speeches do all the business of these Indians. When Sir Charles de Montmagny saw this, he had spread out in the courtyard of the fort, on a fine day, three considerable presents consisting of axes, blankets, kettles, arrowheads, and similar articles. Then he ordered the Chiefs and principal men of the Algonquins and Hurons who were then at Three Rivers to be summoned before him. When they had taken their places, each on his own side, he made his Interpreter explain to them what those presents meant. He had already strongly impressed on them that it was highly important for them to make peace with their enemies; and that the only way to do so was to send back one of those captives, who might prevail upon his countrymen to come to a good understanding, and agree to a lasting peace between all these Nations.

The Algonquins, who had shown themselves so furious at the beginning, brought their prisoner, who was no longer able to walk; and one of their Captains made a speech, saying that they wished to live on good terms with the French, seeing likewise that many of them were of the same belief; that they could refuse nothing to the Governor, whom they called their Captain; that it was not for the sake of the presents that they showed such obedience, but through the desire that the country might be free, and that all the nations might enjoy profound peace. They took what was intended for the deliverance of the prisoner. The majority of these gifts were not for them, but for the purpose of drying the tears of the relatives of him to whose soul this pitiable victim was to be sacrificed.

When he saw that he had escaped the fire that had been prepared for him, he gazed eagerly at his liberator, repeating several times the name that these people have given him: "Onontio, Onontio," -- that is, "Great mountain, great mountain;" expressing his joy and pouring forth all his thanks by a single word that is worth ten thousand.

As to the Hurons, the sight of all those presents produced no effect on them; on the contrary, they showed their regret, being sorry that they were not able to grant what was insisted upon so urgently, and with such good reasons. One of their Captains arose, and exclaimed angrily: "I am a man of war, and not a trader; I came to fight and not to trade. My glory does not consist in bringing back presents, but prisoners; and so I cannot touch your axes or your kettles. If you are so anxious to have our prisoners, take them; I have still enough courage to go and find others. If the enemy kill me, it will be said throughout the country that, because Onontio kept our prisoners, we exposed ourselves to death to capture others."

Having exhausted his vehemence, another Captain -- a Christian, named Charles -- spoke much more modestly. "Be not angry, Onontio," he said to the Governor. "It is not through disobedience that we act therefore, but because we fear to lose both honor and life. You see here but young men; the elders in our country govern its affairs. If we were to return to our country with the presents, we would be taken for grasping traders, and not for warriors. We have given our word to the Captains of the Hurons that if we succeeded in capturing any prisoners, we would deliver them into their hands. Just as those soldiers around you obey you, so must we perform our duty toward those who are over us. How could we endure the blame of a whole country when, knowing that we have taken prisoners, they would see only axes and kettles? The presents that you give us are much more than is necessary for restoring those men to freedom, and your desire alone would suffice to obtain them for you, if the fear of being considered cowards did not persuade us to take them back to our country. You will tell me that the Algonquins have given up their prisoner, and that we can give up ours. I reply that the chief Algonquin Captains are here, -- that those who govern their affairs are present, and are dependent on no one; and that therefore their action cannot be disapproved. But ours will be condemned, and we shall be looked upon as persons without sense for having decided a matter of such consequence without consulting the elders of the country. You prove by your arguments that peace is desirable, -- that it is in the interest of the country that the river be free. We are of the same opinion; that is why we have done no harm to our prisoners. We treat them kindly, because we hope to have them for friends. We trust that our Captains will not thwart the wishes of Onontio. They will concede something to our desires; when we tell them that we wish for peace, they will not make us blush. But if we were to settle this matter without bringing the prisoners before them, they would cover our faces with shame. Not only is our honor at stake, but our lives also. It is rumored that the river is full of enemies. If we meet any group stronger than ours, we will at once make our prisoners rise and declare aloud the good treatment that they have received from Onontio, the considerable presents that he has offered for their deliverance, and the goodwill that we have for them. They will testify that we have done them no harm, -- that we are taking them to our own country, to negotiate a peace; and therefore will our captives save our lives in the event of such an unfortunate encounter."

This speech, delivered in a pleasing and serious manner, supported by all these arguments, and by many others that have escaped my memory, persuaded our Governor to reply that he required the prisoners only for the purpose of negotiating peace; and that if the Hurons wished to negotiate it, he was satisfied; but that they must not break faith in matters so important.

After these speeches, the two other prisoners were brought in; they were shown the presents that were offered for their deliverance; they were told of the great kindness of the French, and that Onontio treated them in a fashion different from that in which they had treated his people whom they had captured. They admitted the truth of this. One of them arose in the middle of the assembly, and, advancing one or two steps with his fettered limbs, he looked at the Sun, and lowering his eyes upon those who were present, with a look full of assurance, he addressed our Governor, exclaiming: "That Sun, Onontio, shall bear testimony to your kindness on our behalf, and show everywhere your liberality." Then, turning in the direction of his country, he said: "Listen, you who command in the land of the Iroquois; you Captains of my beloved country, lend me ear. Subsequently, be kind and courteous, and acknowledge by your actions what the French have offered for my deliverance; and even if I should die, be grateful."

"No, no," replied a Huron Captain, "you will not die. As we do not intend to take your life, you must not despair of shortly enjoying your liberty. You will reach the country of the Hurons safe and sound; and you will leave it without suffering any harm. We hope to bring you back here with your companion, so as to level the soil and make all of the great River smooth. Take courage, both of you; and do not forget what the French have done for you."

The result of these Councils was that, if the Hurons attempted to negotiate peace, they would do it much more effectively than the French, as they have a better knowledge than we of Indian customs. The only thing to be feared is the vengeance and fury of some individual; for a mere fancy will suffice to cause a blow from a hatchet to be struck at these prisoners, and then all hopes of peace will fall to the ground.

At last, when the Hurons were almost ready to return to their country, as our Governor saw that the Iroquois took or massacred nearly all who came down to the French, he gave them more than 20 brave Soldiers from among those whom the Queen has sent over this year to this country. These went with them to winter in their villages, and to serve as an escort to them the following year when they should come down to Quebec. Would you believe that some of these Soldiers, who had formerly been rather bad fellows, told us that it was not money nor the hope of reward that persuaded them to undertake a journey on which they will encounter great hardships in the difficulties of the road? But they protested that the desire of plying their trade for the good of the Faith, and of giving their lives for so great an object, led them to confide themselves to those barbarians. Reverend Father Jean de Brebeuf went up with them. He understands the Huron language, and will be of great assistance to them, -- as also will Father Leonard Garreau and Father Noel Chabanel, who are going there to aid in the conversion of the Algonquins who dwell next to the Hurons, and urgently ask to be taught.

THE GOOD CONDUCT OF THE ATIKAMEKW.

Of all the tribes among whom we sow the seed here, we know of none with better inclination for the Faith than that of the Atikamekw. Although the least instructed, they are the tribe who give us the strongest evidence of Christian goodness. The small number of Evangelistic laborers that we have here, and the great number of Residences and Missions that occupy our attention, have not allowed of our going to see them in their own country; and during the two years since they left Sillery, they have made their appearance at Three Rivers only in passing.

These good Indians left Sillery in the middle of the winter, to hunt in the woods, all the time approaching the mouth of their river. When they arrived there, they found themselves intermingled with many others who were not yet Christians, some of whom had never even heard the Faith mentioned. The number of the ungodly was greater than that of the faithful, and it would seem that the ungodly should have had more power and authority. However, the faithful so prevailed that the ungodly allowed themselves to be persuaded by the talks and examples of the faithful to give up their drums, their sorceries, and their eat-all feasts, and to come down to Three Rivers to be instructed. They came down, therefore, to the number of thirty-five canoes well-filled.

The first thing that the Christians did was to enter our Chapel and bring there the others, after which they asked to hold a Council with Sir des Rochers, who was then in command of the fort of Three Rivers, and with Father Buteux, to whom the Captain spoke as follows:

"Listen to my words, you who know the Massinahigan (writing). Here, look at what you see before you; these are the letters that I send to the Captain of the French who is at Quebec. My young men will carry them; but you who have more wit than they, -- write to him what I shall tell you.

"Last year he made us a fine present, to give us sense; we have received a little of it. We wish to acknowledge his present by embracing the Faith; and we will prove to him that what we say is true, by this letter which you will send him" (it was a package of Beaver skins). He continued: "We were given the pleasure of being taught and baptized last winter. We return thanks for this, first; and we ask the continuation of that favor by this other letter" (this was another package of sixty-four Beaver skins). "You have pity on us," he added.

"The enemies troubled our river by their incursions; you close it by means of the forts that you build against the Iroquois. Here is something with which to strengthen those forts." As he said this, he threw down another package of Beaver skins. "Nothing further remains," he said, "but to live as brothers, and not to quarrel, since we all pray. But, as that is difficult when trade is being carried on, here are furs to soothe the minds," and he threw down a fourth package of Beaver skins.

We replied to all these presents, and told him that we did not teach them in the hope of any reward, -- that, on the contrary, we wished to assist them physically as well as spiritually. "I know that," he said, "but this is only to show you that we do not lie, when we tell you that we desire to embrace the Faith. I speak in the name of all here, who are of the same opinion as myself."

If the words of this Captain promise much, his actions do not contradict them. He had been badly treated by a French soldier, who had pushed him, thrown him down, and dragged him along the ground. Such an insult to an Indian of high rank among his people, in whose presence this occurred, must beyond doubt have been deeply felt; and had not the Faith penetrated far into his heart, he, being unable to avenge himself upon his adversary, would have blamed religion for it, as others have done on similar occasions who have abandoned it out of spite, at least for a time. But his love for prayer led him to bear this insult bravely, and to win a glorious victory over himself. He spoke to Father Buteux, and asked if he knew what had happened to him.

"Yes," replied the Father, "I do know."

"It is true," he said, "that an injury has been done to me; but the Faith prevents me from feeling any resentment. I willingly pardon that soldier; he has no sense. For that reason, I must not be like him, nor think that all the French are worthless because one of them is not good. My heart is at peace. Rest assured that I harbor no evil thoughts. Were I to follow my natural feeling, I would do a wicked deed; but I do not wish to offend God."

Paul Ouetamourat feared that he and his people might revert to their superstitions which they had abandoned at Sillery. He ordered that they should not call it a feast when they invited one another, and that they should not eat together; but that, when each one had received his portion on his plate, he should withdraw to his own house. "It is to be feared," they said, "that the Devil might deceive us, and friendly feasts might gradually lead us back to superstitious feasts."

THE MISSION OF THE HOLY CROSS AT TADOUSSAC.

Although the Captains of the Indians are poorly obeyed by their people, because they use no violence, one has acquired such authority, since his Baptism, that no one dares to refuse obedience to him. One day, a young man did not execute with sufficient promptness what he had commanded. "Ha!" he said to him, "you pray, and you obey not. Come here, so I may give you three blows on the back with a stick." The other drew near, received the blows quietly, and went to do what he was ordered.

The Father wished to have the bricks carried up that had been brought for building the house at Tadoussac. The Captain ordered all his people to work. Some of them overloaded themselves, and the Father tried to warn them and to moderate their eagerness. "Let us do it," they said, "we are putting into practice what you told us yesterday, when you did urge us to practice mortifications for our brothers who are not baptized, in imitation of the example of the French who perform so many for us."

With these good Christians, there were others who had never seen any of our Fathers; and when they heard the Father speak of matters pertaining to the Faith, they exclaimed: "Oh, how admirable is what you tell us!"

"That is not all," said the Father; "you must give up your drums, your stones, and your sorceries."

Said a good old woman, "I have no drum nor stone; I have nothing but a dried embryo of a Deer. The manitou gave it to me last winter, during a severe illness, of which he cured me."

"That is not the good manitou," said the Father. "If you would be baptized, you must burn that embryo, and acknowledge another preserver of your life, who is the God whom we preach and who will burn you in eternal fire, if you do not believe in him."

"Well, then," she said, "there it is. Burn it yourself, and baptize me." She was baptized, with seven or eight others of her cabin.

Not all the others submit so easily. There are some whom God drives into his Church by force of blows. For instance, there was a young boy, the only one out of a large family, who was not baptized. In the spring he went to Miscou, where intoxicating liquor is allowed. He becomes intoxicated, with some others. One of the band becomes furious, -- he behaves like an unchained Demon, threatens to kill everyone, strikes all whom he meets, and overthrows the cabins. No one answers him. He takes an musket, raises it, and fires three or four shot into the face of the boy of whom I speak, -- knocking out four or five teeth, breaking his jaw on one side, splitting his lip, and covering his face with blood and wounds. They think that it is all over with him; and the worst of it is that he does not know of his misfortune, because he is intoxicated. Finally, he recovered his senses, and so well were his wounds dressed that he was cured of them; but he remained so disfigured that none of those who knew him could recognize him, even by his voice.

I shall conclude with the reasoning of an Indian which will perhaps undeceive some persons in France who seek to make our Indians pass for men who have nothing human about them except their faces. Others, who think a little more highly of them, compare them to certain good peasants, who remain mute when one speaks to them of anything besides their oxen and plows. We have reported several of their speeches which prove the contrary. I shall confirm this now by a short philosophical speech, delivered by an Indian not yet baptized.

Father Buteux was speaking one day in a cabin on the immortality of the soul, citing arguments of convenience, and even taking these from some of their own principles, -- as, for instance, that the souls of the deceased went to reside in a village toward the setting Sun, where they hunt Beavers and Elk, carry on war, and do the same things that they did in this life. After this speech, the Indian, who had never heard our Fathers speak on that subject, said: "We see well that our soul is different from that of a dog; the dog can perceive nothing except through the eyes and ears, and knows nothing that does not come under its senses. But the soul of a man knows many things that are not perceived by the senses; and so it can act without the body, and without the senses. And if it can act without the body, it can exist without the body. Therefore it is not material, and consequently it is immortal."

CONTINUATION OF THE MISSION OF THE HOLY CROSS AT TADOUSSAC.

A Father of our Jesuits goes there as soon as the tribes are gathered there, for the purpose of instructing them until they start on their great hunting and fishing expeditions for Beaver, Elk, and the other animals that serve as their food. In winter, they eat the meat; and in summer they sell the skins to the French who come to these countries to trade.

Tadoussac is the first port at which the ships stop that come from France. It is here that the Indians witnessed the arrival of Father Paul le Jeune, who came back once more from France, where the affairs of these poor peoples had taken him.

A Father was teaching another group, belonging to a small tribe that had come from far inland; he showed them the picture of a damned soul. A good Neophyte who had heard him speak on the subject, exclaimed: "Give me, my Father, give me that picture, and let me speak." He took it and, addressing the whole audience, said: "Look at that picture. You do not know what is depicted on it. It is a Magician, a beater of drums, such as most of you are. Do you see how he is chained? Look at the flames that surround and burn him. He is filled with rage and fury. See what you will be; see how the Demon whom you obey will treat you." The Captain of the band was frightened by this speech, and exclaimed aloud: "Formerly I engaged in such practices, but I have cast them off. I have burned my drum and all the instruments that I used."

A young man and a widow were brought to the Church, to be married. The wedding announcements had been made, and all that remained was to express their consent in the presence of the Pastor and of the witnesses. When the young man was questioned, he would not answer. The Father closed his book, and declared aloud that nothing was done, and that they were not married. No one was surprised, and all returned to their homes.

A Captain did not maintain such profound silence, for when he was asked, and had given his consent, and when his bride, who was more bashful, did not respond with sufficient promptness, he said to her: "Be careful of what you are about to say. I do not conceal my bad temper from you. I am a hasty and irritable man; I make all serve me; I wish my wife to obey me. Do not bind yourself ill-advisedly. Consider whether you will take me with those defects." The woman gave her consent and verified the Proverb which says that she who marries a husband also marries his humors. Apart from this, the man is of a good disposition.

THE CREATION OF A CAPTAIN AT TADOUSSAC.

THE desire of immortality reigns in the minds of Indians as well as in the souls of the most civilized nations. When a man of mark among them is removed by death, they resuscitate him and bring him back to life in the manner described in the previous Reports. As they wished to bring back one of their Captains from his grave, they observed the following ceremonies.

The neighboring tribes are notified to be present, if they desire, at the spot where the event is to take place; or a time is selected when they are in the habit of visiting one another. When all are assembled, a fine feast is made ready in the largest cabin, to which all the principal Indians are invited. While the feast is being prepared, the Captain is created in this manner:

He who acts as Master of ceremonies keeps near him some of the chief persons, who serve as his officers. In the first place, they set out and expose to view the presents that are to be given to the Captains of the tribes who are present at the ceremony of creation. They afterward spread out some Elk skins, well dressed, soft, and handsomely painted in their fashion, to serve as a seat or throne for the new Captain. When this is done, he who is to create him sends two of his officers to bring him. They seek him in the cabin where he is conversing with some of his relatives, and waiting -- until he is summoned. One of the two takes him by the hand, and leads him to the spot prepared for him; the other respectfully removes the robe that covers him, and clothes him with another, much finer and richer; he hangs about his neck a collar of wampum beads, places in his hand a handsome Calumet (tobacco pipe), and presents him with tobacco to put in it. All this is done so gravely, and in such profound silence, that one would take these men for statues, as they move about without speaking.

When the Captain is clothed as befits his dignity, a third officer, -- richly clad, with his face painted according to their custom, -- rises and, acting as Herald, declares the object of all this ceremony. "Let everyone remain quiet," he calls out; "open your ears, and close your mouths. What I have to tell you is important. We are here to resuscitate a dead man, and to bring a great Captain back to life." Then, he mentions him, and all his posterity; relates the place and manner of his death, and then, turning toward him who is to succeed him, he raises his voice and says: "There he is, he who is clothed with that fine robe. It is no longer he whom you lately saw, and whose name was Nehap. He has given his name to another Indian. His name is Etouait" (that was the name of the deceased). "Look upon him as the true Captain of this tribe. It is he whom you must obey; it is he to whom you must listen, and whom you must honor." While the Herald delivers this speech, all present remain perfectly still, and not a word is said. The new Captain maintains a gravity that indicates nothing of his barbarism.

Then that man continues his speech, briefly addresses the principal men of the various tribes, and, referring to the presents that are intended for them, and are displayed in a prominent place, he names the Captains, one after the other, saying: "So and so, that collar of wampum beads will tell your tribe that there is a Captain in Tadoussac, and that Etouait has come back to life."

Pointing to a package of Beaver skins, he says to another: "This present, intended for you, will proclaim in your country the fact that we have a Chief, and that death has not utterly destroyed the name of Etouait." The Herald points to as many presents as there are Chiefs of various tribes: but observe that they are not all equal, -- some being richer than others, as there are tribes more or less highly esteemed among them. When he has finished his speech, the Herald sits down, as if to rest; and another officer takes these fine gifts, and distributes them as they have been allotted. When this is done, the Herald resumes his speech. "Let us rejoice; our Captain's first act is to invite us all to a feast;" and, as he says (2531 this, he shows them the kettles full of Indian corn, of plums and grapes. They then begin to sing and dance, each according to the custom of his tribe. As the Captains conclude their songs, they say a few words in praise of him who has just been brought back to life. One calls out:

"Let us take courage; this brave man will save the country." Another adds that his liberality will banish poverty, and cause those who shall be under his direction to live a long life. "Rejoice, young men," another will sing; "you have a brave Captain, who will teach you to overcome your enemies." The Father was present at the ceremony, and was honored with a present as well as the others; he therefore wished to say a few words. "Now," said he, "Jesus Christ will be honored in Tadoussac, and will be acknowledged in these vast forests, because the Captain is a Christian, and holds his Faith in higher esteem than his life." He continued his speech which was listened to in great silence, and approved by all present.

The Captain, who until then had not opened his mouth except to place in it his Calumet or tobacco pipe, -- which with the Indians takes the place of conversation, and serves to sustain their demean -- or, -- said to all the tribes present there: "I am not worthy of the honor that you do me. I do not deserve to bear the name of a man who should not have died, of a man whom you loved so much, and whom you honored with so great respect. That man had two qualities in which I am deficient, -- he was liberal, and he had abundance of wisdom and of ability to manage affairs. You will confer this ability to manage affairs on me by your good counsels, and I will attempt to gain wisdom by my own industry. If he who has made all gives me anything, you may rest assured that it will belong more to you than to me." When he had pronounced these words, the feast began.

The women and girls were brought in. All danced, enjoyed themselves, and feasted; everything passed without discussion, without dispute, and without any insolent acts. At the end, an old Captain -- living far within the mountains of the North, who had come to Tadoussac for the first time -- delivered, in animated language, this short speech: "Hunger and hardships have killed a portion of my people in the cold region that we inhabit but subsequently we shall fear nothing, -- Captain Etouait will banish all our misfortunes by his liberality; I carry the marks of his goodness" (he showed the collar that had been given to him). "I shall show this to all who have escaped death, to make them wish to range themselves under so brave a Captain."

When this speech was ended, each withdrew to his own quarters; and the resuscitated Captain, who wished to begin the duties of his office, sent for the leading men of his tribe, and for some poor widows, and immediately gave them the best that his cabin contained. To one he gave a blanket, to another a robe of Beaver fur, to a third a Calumet (tobacco pipe), and to others a sack of Indian corn. To the poor women he gave some Beaver skins, with which to make dresses. To some of the warriors, he presented his sword, his dagger, and his pistol, and then he dismissed them with these words: "As long as I live, I will assist you, as far as lies in my power." Such are the revenues of the offices of the lords and princes of the Indians.

THE MISSION IN THE HURON COUNTRY FROM JUNE 1642, TO JUNE 1643. ADDRESSED TO THE REVEREND FATHER JEAN FILLEAU, PROVINCIAL OF THE JESUITS IN THE PROVINCE OF FRANCE.

Reverend Father,

Our best Christians are dead, -- some of illness, the others massacred by the enemies; and the choicest among them have endured the cruelty of the Iroquois, with Father Isaac Jogues and two others of our French. But our Church has increased, both in number and in godliness; many Captains and persons of authority have adopted the Faith; the fire has been lighted at the four corners of the country, and Christianity is held in higher honor and respect than ever.

Jerome Lalemant.

From the Huron country, this 21st of September, 1643

THE STATE OF THE COUNTRY.

THE scourge of war that has carried off a great number of these tribes, has continued to such an extent, for a year past, that one may say that this country is only one scene of massacre.

A band of barbarous Iroquois having surprised one of our frontier villages, spared neither sex, not even the children, and destroyed all by fire, except 20 persons. These succeeded in effecting their escape from amid the flames and the enemies' arrows, and came to tell us at the same time of their ruin and of the coming of the storm that disappeared before the rising of the sun. It was the most impious of the villages, and what had been most rebellious against the truths of the faith in all these countries; and its inhabitants had more than once told the Fathers who had gone to teach them that, if there were a God who avenged crimes, they defied him to make them feel his anger, and that, for anything less than that, they refused to acknowledge his power.

Almost at the same time, an army of our Hurons started to meet some other band of enemies. They consulted a famous Magician, for the purpose of receiving his orders. That instrument of Satan caused a dark tabernacle to be built for him, two or three feet in height, and as many in width; filled it with stones heated in the fire; and throwing himself into the middle of this furnace, he commanded that he be kept shut up in it until his Demon had given him an answer. He sang, or rather he yelled, there like a damned soul; while the whole Huron army danced around him, and reechoed his voice so that it might be heard in the lowest pit of Hell. Finally, the magician changed his tone, and called out in most joyful accents, "Victory! Victory! I see the enemies coming toward us from the south. I see them take to flight. I see all of you, my comrades, making prisoners of them."

At these words, each one made ready, and sought more eagerly for ropes to bind the enemy than for weapons with which to fight them. Never had that magician spoken more confidently; never had his Demon been more willingly given the homage that he desired; and never did the infidels triumph with more insolence than on that day, when their ungodliness overcame the faith of some good Christians, who had scolded them for relying on Demons who were powerless to assist them. They started at the same time, and hurried toward the south, in accordance with the magician's advice.

The Christians stood by themselves for a long time, without speaking, being unable to make up their minds to obey so impious a guide. Finally, one of the most fervent among them spoke to God amid those shouts of victory. "My Lord," he said, "your honor is at stake. You alone are the master of our lives, and dispose of victories. If the promises of the Demon are fulfilled, he alone will derive glory, and your name will be blasphemed for it. I offer you my life, so I may be killed by the enemy rather than see myself victorious in that fashion." After that, he spoke to the other Christians, and, although the youngest of the band, his fervor made him assume authority to speak to them. "My brothers," he said, "we would sin were we to follow the road pointed out by the Demon. Let us rather go toward the west, from where our enemies most frequently come." He was at once obeyed; the infidels went their way in one direction, and the Christians in another. The Infidels and their Demon were defeated. In fact, they met the enemy but did not kill one of them, the entire loss being on their side; and they were so overcome by fright that, although they were six times more numerous, the whole army melted away, and therefore ended the plans of their war.

Afterward, throughout the whole summer, there was nothing but fresh rumors of massacres happening one after the other, in the heart of the country, and close to the villages that were most remote from the enemy; and yet it never was possible to capture more than two of those Adventurers, who, having pushed ahead too recklessly, were surprised in their ambushes. They were victims doomed to the flames, and the objects of the cruelty that is natural to all these barbarous Nations; but they were souls destined for Paradise. No sooner had they heard the words of the Fathers who hurried to instruct them, than they surrendered to the truths of our faith, received Baptism, and, at the height of their tortures, sang that they would be happy in Heaven. But all the more cruel was the fury of the infidel Hurons, who, because they had been unable, with all the opposition they could make, to deprive these men of their happiness, wished to make them suffer in this life a semblance of the torments that, as they are often told, are suffered by Souls in hell.

About the end of the summer, we at last received news of the misfortune that had happened on the river through the defeat and capture of some of our French, and of a fleet of the choicest Christians that we have among the Hurons.

As they were returning from Three Rivers, they fell into the ambush of a band of Iroquois, as may have been learned from the Report of last year that was sent from Quebec. For fear of repetition, I will not speak of that disaster, but will merely say that the loss of the persons who were involved there was the heaviest blow that has yet been dealt to the Christianity of the Hurons.

We have been almost a year in uncertainty as to what may have happened to them; in dread that those barbarians may have made them feel the cruelty of their tortures; and in the hope that one of them whose life might have been spared would escape from his captivity, and bring us back positive information. These expectations have not been vain. The most faithful of our Christians, Joseph Taondechoren, found means to escape from the hands of the enemy, and arrived here among the Hurons at the beginning of August, a year after his capture. By his recital of those things of which he has been more than an eyewitness, he has shown us that God derives good from evil.

The day before the capture, they had confessed themselves, and had held a Council for the express purpose of encouraging one another. Eustache Ahatsistari, -- that Captain who was a Neophyte and the terror of his enemies, began to speak, and said: "My brothers, if I fall into the hands of the Iroquois, I cannot hope for life. But, before I die, I will ask them what the Europeans bring into their country, -- axes, kettles, blankets, muskets, that is all. I will tell them that those people do not love them, -- that they conceal from them the most precious merchandise of all, which the French give without selling it to us; of a God who has made all. Thus will I preach to them, while they are burning me."

On the following day, no sooner had this courageous heart perceived the enemy than he began to pray, and, amid the cries of the combat, his voice was heard above all the others: "Great God, to you alone I rely on." He was the first to be taken prisoner, as he was the foremost in the fight; but the great God whom he invoked assisted him in a much more pleasing fashion, for he died a good Christian; and in the midst of all the cruelties that he endured from that time until the final torture, he showed a courage greater than the torments.

Father Isaac Jogues was also one of the first taken, for his thought was not to save himself, but to provide for the salvation of so many poor souls. His first impulse when the enemy approached was to baptize his Pilot, who was the only one in that canoe that was not a Christian. This was the last act that he performed while still at liberty. This good Neophyte, who has since escaped from peril, says, "Ondessonk" (that is the name by which Father Jogues is called here in the Huron country) "forgot himself at the moment of danger; he thought only of me, and spoke to me of becoming a Christian. The musket balls whistled past our ears: death was before our eyes. He thought of baptizing me, and not of saving himself."

But let us return to the Father. When he saw himself in the hands of the enemy, and when they wished to bind him in their usual manner, he said to them: "No, no; those French and Hurons whom you have taken with me are the bonds that will keep me captive; I will leave them only at death. I will follow them everywhere, and you may be assured of my person so long as one of them remains with you." He said this to those barbarians so emphatically that they saw that his words came more from his heart than from his lips; and they therefore contented themselves for the time with giving him a severe beating, and tearing some nails from his fingers; then, they left him at liberty.

But his steps, his actions, and his thoughts were all for the poor Huron captives. On the first day of his captivity, he baptized fourteen Hurons, -- one of whom died at the hour in his arms, for he had been mortally wounded in the fight. He confessed the others who were already Christians, and urged them all to suffer bravely the tortures that would inevitably be inflicted on them.

The Father continued always to perform these charitable acts; he knew that the time of the greatest sufferings was approaching. In fact, after six or seven days' journey, they met a band of three hundred Iroquois warriors, who stripped our French and practiced a thousand cruelties on them and on the Hurons. They tore off the nails of all of them; they cut off the fingers of some, and pierced the hands of others; to dry the blood, they applied to their wounds lighted firebrands and torches, and stones heated red-hot in the fire; they sawed their arms with ropes until these reached the bone; they slashed their thighs with knives and swords. Finally, there was not one who did not receive almost as many blows as there were Iroquois, with the exception of two young children and a young girl returning from the Seminary of the Ursulines in Quebec, who were not injured. This was the first treatment received by those unfortunate captives, who, ever encouraged by the Father, prepared themselves for still greater cruelties.

Three days afterward, they reached the enemies' villages, where such was the fury vented on them that there was hardly a portion of their bodies that was not injured. The Indians made the French walk in front, so they might receive the first blows. Afterward they were made to ascend, quite naked, a scaffold erected at the entrance of the Village. There they remained from morning until night, and, to commence this cruel game, an old man -- a famous magician among the Iroquois tribes, who had for many years promised them that they would be victorious over all their foes -- was the first to mount upon the stage. "It is the French," he said, "whom I consider my enemies. The Hurons do not deserve my anger. I have compassion on them;" and, as he said this, he severely beat our French, one after the other, with a cudgel. Then he ordered a woman to come up and cut off the Father's thumb. "For," added he, "I hate him the most."

After that, one torture succeeded another, and the entire day was but a scene of cruelty. On the following day, the whole had to be commenced again. But I have a horror of repeating all these tortures, although they are more horrible to suffer than to write of. It is sufficient for our consolation to know that God animated the Father with a courage altogether heroic; that, instead of complaining at the height of these barbarous torments, he raised his eyes to Heaven, from where he expected aid, himself offering, without any resistance, the parts of his body on which the executioners wished to vent the rage of their hearts; and they could never draw from his lips a single cry, as if he had been insensible to all those sufferings. Finally it was decided not to put him to death. His life was spared, as well as those of the two other Frenchmen, and of most of all the good Huron Christians.

Eustache Ahatsistari alone was burned and put to death, and with him one of his nephews. He was one of the most accomplished young men among the Hurons; and as he had always promised his uncle to accompany him amid the greatest dangers of war, he could not do better than follow him to Heaven.

At the same time when the Father arrived at the enemies' villages, he found means to baptize four other Huron captives who had been taken on the same day as himself, but 150 miles higher up the river, -- one of whom was burned, shortly after having received the waters of baptism.

It was a profound affliction for these good Christians to see their good Father in such misery and inconvenience throughout a severe Winter, -- when his sole covering consisted of a piece of blanket, which barely covered one half of his body; and when the enthusiasm of his charity compelled him, even in the worst of the coldest weather, to drag himself from village to village to visit the children whom he had begotten in our Lord.

We do not know where all this will end, nor how long those barbarians will allow him to live; we know only that he expects death from day to day, and from hour to hour.

I omit many important things that have happened to that suffering Church in its slavery to the Iroquois. I say nothing, also, of the death of one of those two Frenchmen who were taken prisoner with the Father, who was killed at the end of the Autumn through the passion of an individual Iroquois.

THE HOUSE AND MISSION OF SAINT MARIE.

ALTHOUGH this House is not the usual residence of the Fathers of our Jesuits who are here in the Huron country, it is still the place to which they repair from time to time, after the work of the Missions, in which otherwise they could not live.

Not only has the aid from Quebec and from France that we asked for last year failed us, but, out of fourteen that we were, Father Isaac Jogues and Father Charles Raimbaut went down to Quebec; Father Jogues fell into the hands of the enemies, and Father Raimbaut was carried off by a natural disease. Thus our number was reduced to twelve, ten of whom found employment in the Huron and Algonquin Missions; and the care of this House fell to the share of the only two who remained, Father Francois le Mercier and Father Pierre Chastelain.

This House is not only an abode for ourselves, but it is also the continual resort of all the neighboring tribes, and still more of the Christians who come from all parts for various necessities, -- even with the object of dying there in greater peace of mind, and in the true sentiments of the Faith. We have, therefore, been compelled to establish a hospital there for the sick, a cemetery for the dead, a Church for public devotions, a retreat for pilgrims, and, finally, a place apart from the others, where the infidels -- who are only admitted by day, when passing that way -- can always hear some good words respecting their salvation. In these countries, more than in any other spot on earth, it is necessary to become all things to all men, to win them to Jesus Christ.

The hospital is so distinct from our dwelling that not only men and children, but even women, can be admitted to it. God has given us some good servants who are able to attend them in their sickness, while we assist them for the good of their souls.

A baptized mother and her new-born baby died, and their bodies went together to the grave. It was then that we saw ourselves compelled to consecrate a cemetery near our Church. Since then, the Christians who have died not only at the village of la Conception, but at that of Saint Joseph, 12 miles from our House, have wished to be buried in our cemetery. And the devotion of the living has been so fervent that the intense cold in the severest part of winter, and the depth of the snows, have not prevented them from carrying on their shoulders a burden that they considered only an agreeable one, because they thought that they were paying this last duty to bodies which would one day rise again with them in glory.

The care of the Mission which bears the name of this Residence, and which comprises the nearest villages, has fallen to the lot of Father Pierre Pijart. As the number of Christians is not so great as to make us consider it necessary to build Chapels for them in their villages, it is to this House that they come on Festivals and Sundays, to perform their devotions.

THE MISSION OF LA CONCEPTION AMONG THE ATTIGNAWANTAN.

An entire family had taken the resolution to embrace the Faith. While the mistress of the cabin was working in broad daylight in her field, with one of her nieces, two Iroquois, who were hidden close by in the woods, rushed from their ambush; in the sight of everyone these threw themselves upon them with their hatchets, tore off their hair and their scalps, and, after committing the deed, retreated so rapidly that it was impossible to overtake them. They came from a distance of 7 miles to summon us in haste. We hurried there, and were in time to place these poor butchered women on the road to Paradise. "These," said one, "are the thoughts that I had while in my field. I wished to go to Heaven, and God took me at my word. I wished to live, and now I wish to die, a Christian. Do not refuse me Baptism." This one recovered, and ever since then has behaved in a most Christian manner; the other was soon in Heaven.

Some days after his Baptism, a Christian met an infidel woman, who pulled him gently by his robe, and said to him: "I am yours."

"You take me for another," he replied. "You belong to the devil; I have nothing to do with him."

Charles Tsondatsaa has shown us in his person that God is good, even when he afflicts. This good Christian was one of the richest of his village; now he is one of the poorest; but his faith, his fervor, and his virtue have never shone out more brilliantly.

One day, some Infidels -- who found him inflexible against all their requests, when they wished him to commit some offense against God, and who never received any other answer from him than that he feared fire less than sin -- decided to test his courage, and to see whether he would be stronger than fire. They invite him to enter a sweat bath (this is a kind of oven or sauna, in which the whole body is at once bathed in sweat, and in which one would soon be suffocated, were it not often uncovered to allow fresh air to be breathed). The good Christian, who is ignorant of their plan, considers this as a favor usual among these peoples when they intend to gratify anyone. He enters the bath, but at the first he feels a heat so excessive that he asks them to allow him to come out. "Comrade," replies he who had invited him, "I dreamed last night that you must say three words in honor of my demon, or otherwise some misfortune would happen to me. I ask you to oblige your friend, and, if you wish to come out, refuse me not those words." Charles sees that they wish to compel him by force to do what gentleness could never obtain from him. "Comrade," he replies, "the fire of hell is hotter than this. To avoid one I would be foolish to throw myself into the other. You can make me die here if you will, but you can not get a word out of my mouth that will soil my soul. You must know that I have no tongue, when a sin has to be committed."

He is urged not to be so strict in a matter which will cost him so little, and so oblige his friend. He is promised that it will never be mentioned; and that, if he dread the reproaches of the French, they can never know of it. "My comrades," he says to them, "I fear neither men nor the French, but the eye of God, which would condemn my offense even if the whole earth should praise me for it." Meanwhile, the heat becomes more intense; he finds himself in the midst of a heap of stones all heated red-hot, and of coals that flame more and more; and he cannot stir without walking on the embers. "My comrades," he says to them, "my heart fails me, but not my courage. I am stifled here, and cannot breathe; but know that, whatever violence may be done to me, I will never yield to your desires." Then he who had invited him changes his tone, and, assuming an angry one, he utters a thousand blasphemies against God; curses the Faith and the believers; renounces the friendship that had existed between them from their youth.

Finally the other Infidels range themselves on the fairer side; they take up the cause of the innocent; they upbraid this insolent man for going to such extremes. He himself is filled with confusion when, on uncovering the sauna, he sees the good Christian without pulse and strength; and that, on coming out and recovering himself, the Christian has no other words with which to avenge himself for all these wrongs than to say, while looking at him with as friendly regard as usual, "My comrade, you have killed me; but what consoles me is that I have not offended God. If ever he opens your mind, and you have Faith, you will know that our lives cannot be better sacrificed than in his service."

THE MISSION OF ST. JOSEPH AMONG THE ATTIGNENONGHAC.

Father Charles Garnier and Father Simon le Moyne have had charge of this Mission. The number of Christians in it has increased in a marked degree.

All the Christians of this Mission were tried, especially at the end of the winter. For, as their number had become considerable, and they firmly persisted in refusing to join in the superstitious practices of the country, -- so that those diabolical ceremonies were given up by many, and the debaucheries moderated to some extent, -- the slanders against the Faith redoubled. They asserted that it tended to the subversion of the country; that the sick remained without aid; that war ravaged everything more and more; that famine threatened them; that the most harmless amusements (therefore they called their crimes) could hardly be indulged in; that wherever a Christian happened to be, they had to blush with shame or give up the thought of sin; that their ancestors did not live in such restraint. They claimed that in those days the country flourished; that all these misfortunes had fallen on them since the word of God had commenced to be preached here; that the believers (such is the name of the Christians here) should either withdraw apart, or retain their Faith in the depths of their own souls, without condemning the customs of their forefathers in so public a manner; that these should not be invited either to councils or to feasts, and that all relations with them should be broken off, -- or rather, if it were desired to preserve the country, a general Council should be called at once, to make those who were already of that group renounce the Faith, either willingly or by force. These slanders went so far, and this hatred against the Faith became so public, that the Christians -- who, at the beginning, did not think that matters would come to such a pass -- considered it necessary to avert the storm as soon as possible. They assemble for that purpose, and seek means whereby to parry the blow.

We have introduced here in the Huron country, among the Christians, the custom of wearing their rosaries around their necks as a sign of their Faith. We see the good effects of it.

THE MISSION OF SAINT MICHEL AMONG THE TAHONTAENRAT.

LAST year we received the first news from Quebec through two Hurons who, after wintering there, returned up here at the end of the spring, landed at our doors, and handed us some packages of letters that they had saved from a wreck in which they lost all their own property.

Some Kichesipirini Algonquins wintered here this year with the Hurons; and one of their Captains, called Agwachimagan, and by the Frenchmen le Charbon ["the Coal"], played one of the tricks of his trade. When this wretched man -- whose soul is a thousand times blacker than the name that he bears, and who is a firebrand against the Faith and the French -- arrived at the village of saint Michel, he secretly gathered the Captains together, and said to them: "My brothers, I have always had as much love for you as I have had hate for the Iroquois, our common enemies, -- whose cruelty I experienced last year, when I was their prisoner on two occasions, and escaped each time from their hands, when they were about to burn me alive. Your village is moved by the speeches of the black gowns; that several have already received Baptism; and that you yourselves lend ear to talks that charm them at first. But you are doubtless ignorant to what these promises of eternal life imply. I have been among the French at Quebec and at Three Rivers. They have taught me the substance of their doctrine. I know everything about matters of the Faith. But, the more I learned their mysteries, the less clearly did I see. They are fables, invented to inspire us with real fear of an imaginary fire; and in the false hope of good that can never come to us; we involve ourselves in inevitable dangers. I do not speak without having had experience of it. Some years ago, you saw the Algonquins in such numbers that we were the terror of our enemies. Now we are reduced to nothing; disease has exterminated us; war has decimated us; famine pursues us, wherever we go. It is the Faith that brings these misfortunes upon us. That you may not doubt that what I say is true, when I went down to Quebec two Years ago, to see what had been the result of the Faith of the Innus and Algonquins who had received Baptism, I was shown a house full of one-eyed, lame, crippled: and blind persons; of fleshless skeletons; and of people who all carried death on their faces. Such are the accompaniments of the Faith. That is the House that they esteem" (he spoke of the hospital built near Quebec for the sick); "those are the people upon whom they fawn, because to resolve to be a Christian is to resign oneself to all those miseries. Besides that, one must expect to be no longer lucky either in fishing or in hunting. Finally, if today I saw the whole of your village become Christian, I would be satisfied to be considered the greatest liar in the world if one of you remained alive before the end of the third year. I foresaw those misfortunes caused by the Faith. In vain did I predict them to those who, after refusing to believe me, acknowledged but too late that they were deceived. Has any Christian escaped, as I have, from the clutches of a thousand deaths prepared for him? If their God be almighty, why does he not break their chains? why is he not their liberator? But since those who refuse to worship him are happier than those who are his subjects, if you, like me, have any feeling and love for yourselves, for your children, and for your country, choose with me to consider him rather as an enemy than as a friend."

This wretched being, ill-favored by nature, was more than half deaf, and bore in his own person the answer to his greatest slander. But, as there was no one to take part for God, and to ask this man whether it was his faith or his impiety that had caused such infirmity, and had deprived him of his children, his brothers, and his nephews, -- whom death had found in the woods, when they fled with him -- he produced such an effect on the minds of his listeners, and inspired them with so great fear of the misfortunes that threatened them, that the terror of that spread at once through the village.

THE MISSION OF THE ANGELS AMONG THE ATTAWANDARON OR NEUTRAL NATION.

OUR small number being barely sufficient to attend to the villages that are nearest to us, we have been unable to continue the instruction of the neutral Nation, where two years ago we sowed the first seeds of the Gospel. Some Christian Hurons went there in our stead and performed the duty of Apostles, perhaps with more success than we could have had.

Barnabe Otsinnonannhont, an excellent Christian of the village of St. Michel, who penetrated to the heart of the country, made a long stay there; and as he has great authority among these tribes, his example has preached more forcibly than his words. He publicly refused the desires of a shameless woman, who asked him to do what his conscience could not permit, although the customs of this country sentenced him to it, and here they call a virtue what is only a crime. He had to fight a thousand battles against those even whom he held most dear; for he always firmly refused to obey their dreams, which are the God of all these peoples.

At the end of the winter, a group of about one hundred persons of these peoples of the Neutral Nation came to visit us in this country. These peoples of the neutral Nation are always at war with those of the Mascouten, who are still farther distant from us. They went there last Summer to the number of two thousand, and attacked a village well protected by a palisade, and strongly defended by nine hundred warriors who withstood the assault. Finally, they carried it, after a siege of ten days; they killed many on the spot, and took eight hundred captives, -- men, women, and children. After having burned seventy of the best warriors, they put out the eyes and girdled the mouths of all the old men, whom they afterward abandoned to their own guidance, in order that they might therefore drag out a miserable life. Such is the scourge that depopulates all these countries; for their wars are but wars of extermination.

This Mascouten nation alone is more populous than all the Neutral Nation, all the Hurons, and all the Iroquois, enemies of the Hurons, put together. It consists of a large number of villages, in which is spoken the Algonquin language, which prevails still farther on.

Some trustworthy Hurons, who go every year to trade with the Algonquin tribes scattered here and there, have informed us that they have met Christians who kneel as we do, clasp their hands, raise their eyes to Heaven, and pray to God night and morning, and before and after meals. And the best evidence of their Faith is that they are no longer wicked and dishonest, as they formerly were. They call them Ondoutawaka. These are people about 250 miles above the Saguenay river, toward the North, who have been instructed -- some at Tadoussac, and others at Three Rivers.

THE MISSION OF SAINT ELIZABETH AMONG THE ATONTRATARONNON ALGONQUINS.

THE Iroquois, who make themselves dreaded on the great Saint Lawrence River and who every winter for some years have been hunting men in these vast forests, have compelled the Algonquins who dwelt on the banks of the river to abandon not only their hunting grounds, but also their country, and have reduced them this winter to come here near our Hurons, to live more in safety, -- so much so that a whole village of these poor wandering Tribes came near the village of saint Jean Baptiste. We were obligated to give them some assistance, and for that purpose to associate with Father Antoine Daniel, -- who had charge of the Huron Mission -- Father Rene Menard, who, having a sufficient knowledge of both languages, had also charge of this Algonquin Mission, to which we have given the name of Saint Elizabeth.

An Infidel mother commanded her daughter to be present at a superstitious feast, at which the ceremony required that they should attend quite naked. When Father Menard heard of this shameless order, he scolded the mother and the daughter. "Our Captains command it," they replied. "Yes, but God forbids it; and the fire that burns sinners forever shall be your punishment if you refuse to obey him." To these words, the women made no answer; and they did not even venture to go out of their cabin to witness the ceremony, when they heard that God would be offended by it.

A baptized warrior by the name of Antoine had escaped more than eight times from the hands of the enemy; and ever since his birth, his life has been but one series of combats and adventures. Not more than six months ago, while in the hands of the Iroquois, who had already commenced to vent their fury on him, he found means to cut his bonds and to flee, -- quite naked, in the dead of night, -- making his way for over 250 miles by devious paths, with no other food than the grasses and roots that he found in the woods.

THE MISSION OF THE HOLY GHOST AMONG THE NIPISSING ALGONQUINS.

ALTHOUGH the Huron language is widely spoken and is common to a number of peoples, still it is so concentrated in the midst of a multitude of Tribes, -- scattered to the East, to the West, to the North, and to the South, -- who all speak the Algonquin language, that the tribes of the Huron tongue almost seem to be only at the center of a vast circumference filled with Algonquin tribes. Consequently, our trouble is not to find employment here, but rather, considering our small number of laborers, in deciding where it would be best to apply our labor.

In the Report of last year, I said that Father Claude Pijart and Father Rene Menard had embarked a few days before with the Nipissings, to continue instructing them in their own country, which is distant about 175 miles from the place where we are. They remained there from April to September; or, rather, during all that time they followed those homeless people in the woods and on the rivers, over the rocks and across the lakes, -- having for shelter but a bark hut; for flooring, but the damp earth or the slope of some uneven rock, which served as table, seat, bed, room, kitchen, cellar, attic, Chapel, and all. One leads there a life in which one soon learns that Nature is content with little; and if one has to abandon his house wherever he goes, he finds that he has lost nothing, and in less than half an hour he has erected a complete lodging.

At the end of December, not only the Nipissings but also several others of these nomad Tribes, and of the same Algonquin language, who dwell on the shores of our freshwater sea (Lake Huron), came almost to our doors. They set up their cabins quite near us; and Father Claude Pijart, who was the only one left us able to speak the Algonquin tongue, continued to instruct them.

The first who received Baptism while in full health was a war Captain, named Alimoueskan. He was of an impetuous and arrogant character, especially toward us. Faith has made a lamb of him, and has changed him beyond recognition. He took the name of Eustache when he became a Christian; and since then he has so exerted his courage in conquering himself, in scorning the banter of the Infidels, and in repelling their attacks, that whatever efforts the enemies of the Faith have made to persuade him to commit sin, they have never been able to overcome him. He has abruptly come away from feasts in the midst of the ceremonies, although that is considered an offense among these peoples.

LETTER OF 1644.

Reverend Father,

Last year, I sent the Report to you; but when the bearers were captured or killed on the way by the enemies, it fell into the hands of Father Isaac Jogues, to serve him as some consolation in his captivity. We afterward sent a second copy, but we do not know what became of it. We have every reason to fear that the same accidents will happen this year. Therefore, to attempt every possible means of giving you some news of us, since I have not received more ample notes from our Fathers for a new Report, I now send a few words in advance, to give you some idea of the present state of the affairs in this country.

War continued its usual ravages during the Summer. The Iroquois, who are the enemies of these tribes, have closed all the passages and avenues of the River that leads to Quebec; and of those whom the necessity of obtaining goods from France had compelled to close their eyes to these dangers, many have fallen there. Most of the others have come back entirely naked, or pierced with musket balls, after having escaped seven or eight times from the hands and the cruelties of those barbarians.

There was no less desolation throughout the country. Nearly every day, unfortunate women were killed in their fields. The villages were in a state of continual alarm, and all the troops that were raised in good numbers to pursue the enemy over the frontiers were defeated and routed; captives were taken by hundreds, and frequently we had no other couriers and bearers of this dismal news but poor unfortunates who had escaped from the midst of the flames, whose half-burnt bodies and mutilated fingers convinced us, more than their words, of the misfortune that had fallen on them and on their comrades.

This scourge of Heaven was all the more felt as it was accompanied by that of famine, which is universal among all these Tribes for over 250 miles around. Indian corn, which is the sole staff of life here, was so scarce that those who had the most had hardly enough for sowing their fields. Many lived only on a kind of acorn, on pumpkins, and on paltry roots which they often went to seek far away, in places where they were exposed to massacre and which were covered only with the enemies' tracks.

We have derived this benefit from the public necessity, that God had furnished us with a sufficient supply of the corn of the country; and this gave us a fine opportunity of showing our Christians the close union that we contract with them through the spirit of Faith. Our house, in which we have a sort of hospital outside of our apartments, has always been open to them. They have come there from time to time to recruit their strength, so they could afterward more easily work in their fields.

Contrary to the usual experience of previous years, our Fathers have had as much occupation during the summer as during the winter. Our Missions have been changed into Residences, and the Chapels have been everywhere enlarged. Through lack of bells, we have had to hang up old cauldrons, at the request of our Christians. The cemeteries were blessed; processions were held in the villages and funerals were solemnized according to the custom of the Church; Crosses were erected and solemnly worshiped, in the sight of the Indians.

But our sharpest thorn is that the enemies of these tribes have the advantage over them through the muskets that they obtain from certain Europeans.

Jerome Lalemant

YEAR 1645
STATE OF THE COUNTRY WHEN I ARRIVED THERE, IN SEPTEMBER, 1645

The 7th at Montreal; the 10th at Three Rivers: the 1st of October at Sillery: and the 2nd at Quebec; Declared superior on the 16th of September, at 8 o'clock in the evening at Three Rivers.

IN August, vessels arrived, of which Sir de Repentigny was admiral; the principal news that they brought was that the Company of New France had given up the right of trade to the inhabitants, on certain Conditions conveyed by their Agreements, which are in our Archives.

Next, the Inventories were taken; and the Hurons arrived with me prosperously, on the 10th of September, after all the announcements were proclaimed; so that all the Beavers went to the inhabitants. Montreal had made Its own Agreements privately with the inhabitants, and seemed to have fulfilled most of its obligations. There remained at Vilmarie, of notable persons, only Sir d'Alibour, his wife and sister, and Mademoiselle Manse. Father le Jeune, at the request of Sir de la Dauversiere, Intendant of the affairs of Montreal in France, and Father Jogues, were appointed to winter there; father buteux and father Jogues had wintered there before. Sir de maisonneuve, who commanded at Montreal, went back to France this year on account of the death of his father.

At the time when I arrived, they were expecting the return of some Frenchmen and Captives, who had been sent to the Mohawks to negotiate for peace; they returned here with Cousture the 17th of the same month of September, and went away again on the 22nd. The Hurons and the Algonquins had been present at this peace conference, and, had adopted a resolution to escort the Mohawks back to their country; but, having arrived at Richelieu, they returned; only Cousture, with 4 Mohawks and three Hurons, went beyond.

About the 12th of October, three or four Innu were killed, who were hunting; it was feared that these slayers might be Mohawks, although it was thought that they might be Sokoki Abenakis, of whom some had been killed a few years ago. There were five Mohawks who were wintering with the Innus and Algonquins; these suffered no harm, but Pieskaret, an Algonquin Captain, who had two or 3 of them in his care, deemed it advisable to send back his, -- both to avoid all risks, and to give warning to Mohawk of what was going on. They notified Cousture of this, to the end that, if the offenders were Mohawks, he could know that, in case satisfaction were made, the peace would not be broken. One of those whom Pieskaret had sent did not go far; he came back immediately, -- fearing, he said, the Algonquins.

Richelieu was almost abandoned, -- that is, with the exception of 8 or 10 soldiers. Our Fathers Dendemare and Joseph Duperon returned from there, toward the end of September; and no one went to stay there in their place. Sir de Sennetaire, who commanded there, returned to France; Sir de Chanflour, who commanded at Three Rivers, also returned; Sir bourdon was placed for a time in his stead; and finally Sir de la poterie went there as commandant. Father buteux was appointed superior there; with him were father de noue, father pijart, administrator for the Hurons, father Joseph duperon, and three men.

At Sillery were stationed father de Quen, father Masse and father Druillettes, a Brother, and four men.

At Quebec, father Jerome lalemant, Superior; father Vimont and father dendemare, three of our Brothers, and one man -- our Brothers liegeois, Ambroise Cauvet, and P. feaute.

Father Quentin went and came in the vessels: Brother liegeois was his Companion, who performed the duties of administrator in the country; he had recently returned from France, having stayed there a year.

The 3 men who resided at Three Rivers received 50 gold coins; one was named Chrestiennot, the second, Mathieu Choure, and the third Antoine Desrosiers. At Sillery, the two hired men, also at 50 gold coins, were appointed -- one Simeon, and the other la neigerie: the two servants ad vitam (servant for life), Jaques Junier and robert hache. At Quebec, there was only Pierre Gontier, as servant ad vitam.

JOURNAL BEGUN, 1645 OCTOBER.

ON the 17th, Chrestiennaut was received into our service, at wages of thirty gold coins a year, and was sent to Three Rivers in order to serve there as Cook and Clothier, in a word, for everything. He had come here from France in Sir de Repentigny's retinue and had become discontented there, so that he had decided to retreat to the woods rather than go back to France; there was no written contract with him.

On the 19th, we began to build an oven at our house, after having asked permission from the owners of the house. On the same Day, there left the house a little box in which were 3 or 4 savage garments, all complete, to be presented to the king by Sir de Repentigny, -- because the king had expressed a desire that something from over here should be sent him. The warehouse had borne the main expense.

On the 29th, the vessels sailed, five in number, laden with twenty thousand pounds' weight of Beaver skins for the habitants, and ten thousand for the general Company, at two gold coins, or 20 or 22 silver coins, a pound. Sir de Repentigny was admiral; his brother, Sir de Tilly, commanded the vessel of Montreal, in which Sir de maisonaeuve was returning; and Sir Godefroy, another vessel.

On the 25th, the Governor set out to go to the Isle aux oyes, where he was cultivating the land, and had there 7 workmen. He left Sir de Chavigny as His lieutenant, and gave me a sealed paper, in which was the order to be observed in case any accident befell him.

22 Soldiers had been dispatched to the Hurons in 1644, -- sent from France with several others by the queen, who for this purpose had given two hundred thousand silver coins. While among the Hurons, they lodged at our house, and lived at our table. They returned a year later, to the very day; for, having arrived among the Hurons the 7th of September, they arrived at Montreal, with 60 Huron canoes, on the 7th of September in the following year; they came back laden with a quantity of Beavers, to the amount of 60 or 80 thousand silver coins. A dispute over this having arisen between the habitants lately put in possession of the trade and the Company of New France, they agreed to employ the proceeds in building a Church and clergy house, for which three thousand gold coins were set aside. Moreover, as it was Payment no more than reasonable to give us the maintenance intended for these soldiers, which might amount to about 100 gold coins apiece, they gave us only thirty gold coins apiece, including in this all the other expenses of having repaired the arms, aided the sick, etc.; they caused us therefore a loss of more than 1250 gold coins.

Toward the end of the month, there were great complaints of the Hurons who wintered at Sillery with the Algonquins; among other things, that they had several times climbed through the window of the Gadois dwelling, and had taken some of the salt pork; that they had beaten the said Gadois, who had stripped certain ones of some wretched scrap of Covering. The remedy applied was to Intimidate them with the anger of the Governor at his return, and to persuade them to make some satisfaction.

On the 29th, the Governor returned; three shots were fired from the warehouse, at his arrival. This same Day, word was brought of new terrors and fears, on the part of the Algonquins, concerning fresh massacres; they were beginning to think that these slayers were indeed Mohawks.

When I arrived at Montreal, they had prepared a timber dwelling for our Fathers, and it seemed that there was nothing more to be done than to raise it; but, when they were on the point of doing so, the vessels arrived, bringing word and orders from France to those who commanded at Montreal, to employ all the workmen for other things, namely, in building a hospital, for which large funds had been received in the preceding years; and yet no beginning had been made. Sir de maisonneuve, who was then at Montreal, found it hard to tell this news to our Fathers; I took it upon myself to do so, and to persuade them to regard the matter favorably; afterward, they flung the cat at my legs, as if I were the one who had hindered that work.

At Three Rivers, there were two farmers holding our lands jointly; they only half attended to the land, working elsewhere for themselves. We deliberated whether we should take back the lands, in order to manage them, and it was decided to do so. The farmers willingly agreed; and when, in view of our Inability to find men for ourselves, we sought to incline them to take back the land, they would not; we were then constrained to cultivate the lands ourselves.

NOVEMBER, 1645.

On the 12th, Father de Quen, superior at Sillery, found himself embarrassed, for having accepted some Beavers from an old woman and her relatives, who were adopting him in the place of one of their relatives, who was killed. Every Day, these new relatives overwhelmed him with requests, as one who was expected to do for them all that the deceased was accustomed to do; they had to be fed, lodged, etc., during the winter.

The 15th of November, the rumor prevailing that the prohibition was about to be published here which had been published at Three Rivers, that no one was to trade with the Indians, Father Vimont asked Sir des Chastelets, general Manager, whether we would be in worse condition under them than under the Company of New France. The Conclusion was that we would not be, and that this matter would proceed for us as usual, but that we should carry it on quietly. This same Day, the lasting snows began.

On the 21st, a Young Algonquin escaped from the Mohawk Enemies, and a little later a Huron, who were captives there; they reported that the Mohawks had no good will for the Algonquins. It is said that the Young Algonquin, before going away, seeing himself alone in the Cabin, piled up whatever there was, especially the skins, and burned everything. They confirmed the idea that it was the Mohawks who had either committed or instigated the massacre in the past month. The Algonquins of Sillery inflict on themselves severe disciplines for having been several times drunk; but they complain much that the French get drunk and are bad, and that not a word is said about it.

Sundry things were given to the Algonquin Indians this month by the hand of father Vimont, among others, two kegs of peas, some cloth, etc.: these Indians were Noel and Jean baptiste. Besides that, we received nothing in the way of revenue from Sillery, and yet we incurred an expense there of nearly a thousand gold coins.

On the 26th of November was posted the order not to trade any pelts, but to carry everything to the warehouse, which would pay the bearers its value; this prohibition had been made long before at Three Rivers.

This year, they began to sell wood, and the man who furnished it got 15 silver coins a cord for it, if he took it from the lands of others; but, for that which he took from his own lands, he got 1 gold coin, which is 5 silver coins a cord more. They furnish us with wood as usual: usually two sledges a Day. A loaf of bread, at this time, was worth 8 silver coins at the warehouse.

DECEMBER, 1645.

On the 1st, those of the forge came to ask for the wine for the feast of St. Eloy. They were four: we gave them four rosaries, and to the master a bottle of wine.

On the 4th, we began to make bread at the house, not only because that made for us at the warehouse oven was not good, but because we wished to use the corn of the land, which they did not use at the warehouse.

On the 17th, The Ursulines, among others, gave donations of Cloth to the French and Indian poor: as for us, our chief donations were 7 loaves, each of the value of 8 silver coins, for as many persons as we were in this house at Quebec, however, that was exchanged for cloth, shoes, and linen, of which the poor people had more need. The Governor also gave generous donations: 1st, four gold coins, given upon the spot, one of which, for the French poor, was exchanged for cloth; the other was left to the disposition of father dequen, for the poor Indians of Sillery and, he gave orders to Sir des Chastelets to give what we should ask of him for the poor, up to the amount of 100 gold coins.

Two of our French having begun to drink, while waiting for a midnight mass, became intoxicated, with much scandal to some frenchmen and Indians who saw them. We preached vigorously against it, because the Indians said: "They make us take the discipline when we get drunk, and they say nothing to the French." Nothing further was required than this public complaint; the governor had them put on the wooden horse, exposed to a frightful Northeast wind.

Toward the end of the year, the Ursulines and Hospital Nuns showed me a document by which father Vimont, my predecessor, had given to them, for 6 years, 5 acres of grazing land to each convent, on the best natural meadows that we had, -- that is, from the river of the Cabin to the Topiers, 10 acres, in the direction of Sir Giffard. The grant was signed in April or of May, 1645, almost a year after he had received the land grant documents of his successor, who was expected at that time. After seeing the papers, I returned them without approving or Disapproving them, not Judging it advisable to do anything further. In reality, I found two things to criticize, one, that he had made this gift for 6 years, whereas he should have made it for one year, at the most; the other, that he had made them such a concession for a considerable time without any charge -- as, for instance, a tenth, or twentieth, or thirtieth.

NEW FRANCE IN 1644 AND 1645, BY FATHER BARTHELEMY VIMONT OF THE JESUITS, SUPERIOR OF THE WHOLE MISSION.

THE GENERAL STATE OF THE MISSION.

The blood shed in the country of the Iroquois has finally brought us Peace with those Barbarians. Father Isaac Jogues and Father Francois Bressani, on their return, embraced as friends those who had lacerated their bodies, torn out their nails, and cut off their fingers.

While Sir Charles de Montmagny, our Governor, was negotiating for this Peace, the country possessed another blessing, which came to its knowledge only when the ships arrived. The Company of New France, wishing to procure the conversion of the Indians, and to increase the French Colony, returned into His Majesty's hands the trade in Furs that he had granted them, -- being fully aware that the strength of the French would be the support of the new Churches that we attempt to begin. As this Colony is only in its Infancy, the Gentlemen of Montreal have showed their charity toward the French Colony. The Queen has distinctly declared herself the Mother and Protectress of her French and Indian subjects in these countries.

The Indians who are usually found in all our settlements, from Tadoussac to Montreal, have been fostered with much care, and with much trouble in various ways. The Ursulines and the Hospital Nuns have performed their duties with joy and content worthy of their courage. The Hospital Nuns have been afflicted by long illnesses of their Sisters; and the Ursulines have found a new employment, in the instruction of the Indians. The Christian women asked a Father of our Jesuits if it would be possible to have one of these good Mothers reside with them, to make them pray. As this would not be proper, they sent them one of their Seminarists, who has very well performed her little task.

SOME GOOD ACTIONS AND SOME GOOD SENTIMENTS OF THE CHRISTIAN INDIANS.

When they return from their long hunts, they usually confess themselves twice before receiving Communion. They give as a reason for this that their memory is short; that they have neither paper nor ink, as we have, with which to write down their sins; and that, if they omit some through forgetfulness at the first Confession, they will be able to remember them at the second. Some of them use the beads of their Rosaries as a local reminder. A good woman, whose simplicity is as great as her lack of memory, approached a Father one day, and said to him, with most pleasing simplicity, "Here are all my sins;" and she showed him about a decade of her Rosary. "They are all on those beads," she said; and, passing them one after another through her fingers, as if she had been saying her prayers, she accused herself of having committed many harmless things.

A widow, who was poor and abandoned, was married in the fashion of the Indians. She allowed herself to be cajoled by a Pagan, who deceived her. She felt such regret for her fault that, after asking pardon publicly in Church, she said to the Father that when she felt the pains of her pregnancy she wished for death, to atone her crime. "I ask God every day," she said, "to punish me. When I see women who scoff at me, when I hear them jesting about my sin, I say to myself: 'I have well deserved this.' I answer nothing and remain quite ashamed. It is just that I should suffer all my life. I was afraid that I would be expelled forever from the house of Prayer." She said she had been strongly tempted to kill her child, and to bring about her own death; but that she did not wish to offend God, and it was better to bear the shame of her sin than to commit another.

A GOOD Neophyte, who had penetrated far inland toward the North, met the Captain of a small Tribe which has no communication with the French except through the Indians who are our neighbors. This man, who had gone to that country to trade, from a Merchant became a Preacher. He spoke of God to these new hosts; he explained to them that his Son had been made Man, and had loved his brothers to such an extent as to give up his life on a Cross. And, when he saw that his listeners relished this new Doctrine, he asked them to help him erect in that land the great Memorial of our Salvation. No sooner said than done; they set to work at once, cut down a large tree, from which they remove the branches with more affection than skill, and raise a great Cross on the banks of a fine river where they had met each other. "I made use," said this new Carpenter, "of some bones of a Deer that I sharpened to a point, like nails, to hold the transverse piece of this Cross, which we planted in a prominent place where it can easily be seen from a great distance. I told them that that tree would bring them happiness; that the Demons feared it; that they must assemble at that spot; and that I would come and meet them there next Spring."

WE have had only a few cases of sickness this year, and still fewer deaths. Disease would soon have killed all, had it continued to rage as furiously as we have seen it do.

THE WINTERING OF A FATHER AMONG THE INDIANS.

A CONSIDERABLE band of Christian Indians who were preparing for their great hunt, and for securing their provision of Elk meat, asked me to give them a Father of our Jesuits, to accompany them. They alleged as a reason that, as the Iroquois pursued them everywhere, they were compelled to remain at a distance of several days' journey from the house of prayer; and that, during their stay of several months, they desired to have someone with them who could administer the Sacraments to them, and teach them the way to Heaven. They were given Father Gabriel Druillettes. He was soon equipped; all his baggage was contained in a small box or trunk which held only the necessary supplies for saying Mass. See him loaded with all his movable effects. He had for companion a young Frenchman, who could give him no other consolation than to serve him at the Altar. As the main body of the Indians had preceded him, two young men took him in a little boat of bark, and in a few days brought him to the appointed rendezvous.

As soon as the canoe appeared, all hurried to the banks of the great river, and vied with one another in expressing their joy at the arrival of the Father. He was welcomed, not in the fashion of the Court, but with sincerity and frankness. Noel Negabamat, whom these Neophytes have chosen for their Captain, delivered a public speech, declaring in a loud voice the reasons that had brought the Father there; the need that they had of him; the benefits that they could derive from his presence and conversation; the obligations that they owed him for having consented to become their companion in their great labors, to instruct them, he urged all his people with great fervor to show every respect to the wishes of their Father.

When all who were to travel together were assembled, the camp was broken; all the houses were rolled up -- that is, the bark of which these buildings are made was folded up; they left the banks of the great river, or the fish country, to enter the region of Elk, of deer, of beaver, and of other animals, against which they were proceeding to wage war. I will not speak of their mode of camping, or of their weapons, or of their baggage wagons, which are only their own backs, or light wooden sleds when the ground is covered with snow. Neither will I speak of the various kinds of beasts that they find in their great forests, or of their customs, or of their methods of doing things.

When there was no longer any game in a place, and they broke their camp to carry their bark pavilions still deeper into the great forests, the Father held up a Crucifix; all knelt down and, casting their eyes on that image of life, they sang with simple and most delightful devotion the Litanies of the attributes of God. They asked their Savior to be their guide, their leader, and their strength, in the fatigues that they were about to undergo with love, and in satisfaction for their sins. This done, each one would set out on his way, carrying or hauling all their camp equipage. Toward noon, the Captain would call a halt for the purpose of taking a little rest and of restoring their strength in an inn roofed in by the vault of Heaven, sheltered by two or three million trees, -- where the seats are but the snow; where the beverage costs but the trouble of taking it from a brook after the ice has been broken, or of dipping it from a kettle in which snow has been melted; where for your share, and for all foods, you have but a piece of smoked meat without bread, almost as hard as wood and as flavorless as yarn.

When the Sun approaches its decline, they stop at the most suitable place they find for camping. When the spot is chosen, each one lays down his burden, or leaves his sled, and, kneeling down, they thank God for having preserved the whole band. Then they put up the buildings in which they are to dwell and which are completed in two or three hours.

They built a small Chapel of Cedar and fir branches in honor of the manger of the infant Jesus; they wished to perform some penance, to prepare themselves for better receiving him into their hearts on that holy day; and even those who were at a distance of more than two days' journey met at a given place to sing Hymns in honor of the newborn Child.

The winter passed; as soon as the warmth of the Spring began to thaw the snow, they returned to the banks of the great river, where they had left their canoes and sailboats. The first thing that they did, on issuing from the forest, was to frame a great Cross, as best they could. The Captains were the first to lend a hand, and they wished to carry it themselves on their shoulders to a conspicuous place, where they planted it.

Such pleasures of the spirit must be purchased at the cost of much bodily fatigue. One must sleep on the bare ground covered with a few fir branches, having between one's head and the snow merely a piece of bark of the thickness of a coin; live as much among the dogs as with men, for everything is thrown together in their cabins; fast sometimes on Sundays more rigorously than on good Friday; have no other beverage than what is common to the most neglected creatures on earth; eat meats which stave off death rather than sustain life; have no other cook but uncleanliness, the inseparable companion of their extreme poverty; endure the jests and the scorn of those who are not baptized, and of the children, who -- because they do not see in a Frenchman any of the perfections of an Indian -- despise to the last degree those who are not good beasts of burden. Philosophy and Theology have no currency amid these great trees; legs like those of the deer, and strength like that of oxen, hold the first rank among these peoples.

Smoke was the Father's greatest Cross. That half Element, which retains the heat of the fire and the malignancy of tainted air, so completely dried up the eyes of the poor Father that he became blind. At the beginning, he could see objects only confusedly, without being able to distinguish anything in detail, -- so that, when he wished to go out of the Cabin, he sometimes walked through the fire, which is placed in the center of these dens. At other times, he stumbled over the feet of some, exciting merriment in those even who had compassion on him. Finally, he lost his sight completely, so that he could no longer guide his steps. The Indians were surprised at this accident when they saw that, in addition to the loss of his sight, he suffered such pain that his strength failed him. They consulted among themselves whether they should not wrap him up like a parcel, tie him on their sleds, and haul him like the rest of their baggage. When the Father heard them, he began to laugh, and assured them that, if they would give him a guide, he had still enough strength to follow them. They gave him a child, whom the poor Father obeyed as a pupil does his teacher.

They held an assembly concerning his disease, the result of which was that, if he would submit to their remedies, he might be cured. The good Father blindly obeyed them. Then a woman who was selected to effect the cure, rose from her place and said to him: "Go out of the Cabin, my Father; open your eyes, and look at the Sky." The poor blind man obeyed without a word. When he had assumed the attitude required, this fine oculist, armed with a bit of knife blade, or of rusty iron, scraped his eyes until a little fluid flowed from them. Never had the poor Father suffered so much. The hand of the operator was not as light as a feather, and she possessed no more skill than science. Finally, when the patient had been given up by his worthy Physicians, he spoke to God. A bright ray suddenly opened the eyes of the poor blind man, and fully restored to him the use of his sight.

SOME SURPRISES BY THE IROQUOIS.

I WOULD almost sooner be besieged by Goblins as by the Iroquois; the Iroquois are hardly more visible than Goblins; when they are far away, we think they are at our doors; and when they fling themselves on their prey, we imagine that they are in their own country. The people who dwelt in the forests of Richelieu and of Montreal were brought in and shut up more closely than any Jesuits or any Nun in the smallest Monasteries of France. These Croats did not make their appearance at Montreal this year, but still there was no assurance that they were far away from there.

As regards Richelieu, observe how they approached it. On the 14th of September of last year, a soldier was working for amusement, at a distance of a musket shot from the Fort, in a small field that he was tilling to plant Indian corn there, when four or five Iroquois rushed from an ambush, and threw themselves on him, without doing him any harm. The young man, preferring to die by steel rather than by fire, clung so firmly to a stump and to some roots that they could not succeed in dragging him away from these. Furious at his resistance, they discharged I do not know how many blows from their war hatchets upon his head; and finding that they were observed from the Fort, and that some shots were already being fired at them, they abandoned the poor man, thinking that they had killed him. He advanced toward the Fort, but two Iroquois observed him. They turned back, and gave him two sharp thrusts of javelins through the body; and if they had not been seized with the fear of being surprised by the French, they would have cut and removed his scalp with his hair, which is one of the great trophies of the Indians. They thought that the man was dead; but the Surgeon hurried to the spot, and stopped the bleeding, -- exposing himself to the ambushes of the enemy, who fired from the woods.

This good young man's first act, when he returned among the French, was to ask for a Father to confess him. When this was done, he made his will in favor of the poor, to whom he gave the few effects that he possessed. Although he had received two wounds on the head, two on the arm and four in the body, -- all of which were considered mortal, -- he still recovered.

After this surprise, they heard, on an Island in the vicinity, cries of joy and delight repeated ten or twelve times, to show the number of Hurons whom the Iroquois had taken or massacred a little above Richelieu. Those who fled from this defeat sought refuge with the French. Among others, there was a Huron named Henry Aonkerati, who assured us that he had escaped from the hands and the bonds of his enemies; and that, on two other occasions during the same year, God had preserved him when his people had been routed.

On the seventh of November, a young man, who was at the head of the workmen of the Fort, went out alone to shoot game, almost at the door of our French. He was surrounded by the enemies, who lay hidden in the brushwood, and was put to a most miserable death. They stripped him entirely naked, and tore off his hair with his scalp. When it was noticed that the young man had not returned, and when two Iroquois canoes were seen on the great River, they thought that he had been surprised and carried off alive by them. They shouted, and called him by name, but received no answer. The cannon was fired at the fleeing foes, but in vain. Three days afterward, crows, croaking around his body, indicated the spot where he was. They proceeded there and found him stretched out on the ground, pierced by javelin thrusts, bathed in his own blood, and his body already slightly injured by the birds' beaks. The Fathers who were at that settlement buried the poor man.

On the twelfth of December, the earth was covered with snow to the depth of a foot. As we had hardly a thought of those man-hunters, and as the cold made itself felt, seven soldiers went out to get firewood. When they had loaded their sled, and were hauling it over the snow, a band of those Imps unexpectedly rushed on them. The more active ones, and those who were the least encumbered, released themselves from the ropes that they had put around their bodies to haul their load, and saved themselves by running toward their entrenchment. One, who was the most securely fastened to the sled, was taken prisoner. the Indians struck him heavy blows with their clubs, armed with a sharp piece of iron; and after throwing him down, they cut off a portion of his scalp which they carried off with the hair on it. The sentry gave the alarm, and shots were fired at them from muskets. This caused them to retreat, believing that the poor man was dead. In fact, he was quite motionless. But just as fire was applied to the cannon, to discharge it at the enemies, he roused himself, and began to drag himself along. They ran toward him, and found on his head 7 or 8 great wounds, inflicted with war hatchets, which everyone considered mortal.

You would have said that his eyes were no longer in their place; and the blood that covered him all over gave him a horrible appearance; a portion of his head was stripped of its hair and its scalp. They called him by name, and spoke to him. He was unconscious, and entirely deprived of his senses, and was animated merely by an animal instinct that led him to drag himself here and there, without purpose. The Surgeon had him carried to the Fort, and attended him so well that he is now in good health. He was unconscious for three days, and was for a long time in danger, owing to the skull having been driven in, while the contusions were serious. From that time, the French had for a cloister a palisade of stakes, of small extent. But finally the Iroquois Ambassadors came at the beginning of July, and put an end to the confinement of these poor hermits, who, since not all had the gift of Prayer, did not find much pleasure in so small a monastery.

SOME IROQUOIS PRISONERS.

THE Report of last year stated that the Hurons, after having taken three Iroquois prisoners, had given one to the Algonquins, and taken the two others to their own country. The Algonquins presented to the Governor the one that had been given them. He was half dead, and half burned; but the care that they gave him restored him to health.

Last Spring, some Indians brought in two others, to whom they did no harm, -- knowing well that the French do not like cruelty; this event occurred therefore: Seven Algonquins went to hunt for Iroquois: they dragged their canoes on the ice as far as Richelieu, to take the river which flows from the Iroquois country, in which the ice melts sooner than in the great river. Having entered a large lake, from where this river flows, they landed on an Island to seek their prey. One of them, who was watching, heard a musket shot, and notified his Comrades. The leader of these hunters ordered them to take their meal. "Let us eat," he said, "for the last time, Comrades; for whatever happens, we must die rather than retreat."

When they had partaken of a good dinner, one, whose name was Makons, went away alone to look for the enemy; he saw two canoes that seemed to be coming straight toward them. "They are warriors," he reported.

"So much the better," replied a Christian named Bernard, a worthy and brave man; "there is more honor in vanquishing armed men than hunters of animals."

Pieskaret, who led this little band, placed himself at the spot where the two canoes were about to touch the shore. When the first approached, carrying seven men, who had no idea of the ambush, it was received with a volley from six muskets, whose shots were so skillfully fired that they laid low six men, while the seventh escaped by swimming to the other canoe, which came behind. The men in this canoe picked up the fugitive, and did not lose heart. They altered their course, so as to land on the Island at another spot, and to fight on shore; but our Algonquins ran through the woods, to cut them off. There were, in this second boat, eight warriors fully resolved to avenge the death of their people; but a musket shot overthrew one of these warriors, and this also overturned the canoe in the water. As they secured a footing, they regained courage, and tried to reach land.

Our Algonquins advanced to meet them, and both sides fought bravely; but God gave the advantage to our people. They threw down four Iroquois in the water, and killed them at the same time. The three others, fearing the victors, turned to flee; but Bernard pursued the tallest of them, and giving him a slight javelin thrust in the loins, he called out to him:

"Surrender, Comrade, or you are a dead man." The other, who was younger, was soon caught, while the third escaped. In this manner, seven men killed eleven, and took two prisoners. The Combat over, the victors went to seek the dead bodies, scalped them, and embarked on their return journey.

The younger of the two prisoners found that his bonds were too tight, and complained of it. An Algonquin replied to him, "Comrade, you seem ignorant of the rules of war."

"He knows them well," replied his Companion; "he has seen many of your people weep who have been taken prisoner, and have been burned in our country. He fears neither your threats nor your tortures."

The Algonquin thought that he spoke insolently for a prisoner, and gave him two or three blows. But the prisoner did not lose courage, and began to sing, saying that his friends would find means to avenge his death. It is perhaps fifty years since any Indian prisoner has been so gently treated. They did not beat them any more, nor tear out their nails, nor cut off their fingers, which are the first attentions that the Indians pay to their prisoners.

One day, before they arrived at saint Joseph, where they were taken, Pieskaret sent a young man to inform the Father who has charge of the Indians at that place that he would soon arrive, and would bring prisoners to the Governor and to the Christian Indians, his friends. They were heard sooner than they were seen, for they came on, singing in their canoes. Everyone ran to the bank of the great river. The prisoners were erect, dancing in their fashion to the noise of the paddles and to the sound of the conquerors' voices. The scalps of those who had been killed in the fight, attached to the ends of some sticks, fluttered in the air at the will of the wind, like wind-vanes.

As they neared the shore, a salvo of musketry was fired on either side with considerable skill. When Jean Baptiste Etinechkaouat saw that they were ready to land, he called a halt, and, raising his voice, he addressed these few words to the Captain who brought the prisoners: "We take pleasure in seeing you; you have behaved valiantly. All rejoice at your coming; you could not bring anything more agreeable to our eyes than these spoils of our enemies with which you have enriched yourself. You know that we now proceed in a different fashion than we formerly did. We have overturned all our old customs. That is why we receive you quietly, without harming the prisoners, without striking or injuring them in any way."

The Captain stood up in his canoe, and replied: "I am of your mind. I gave my word that the prisoners would not be harmed. Let us rejoice peacefully; let us sing, feast, and dance. These," said he, "are cause for joy," -- showing the scalps, and the prisoners sitting among the Algonquins in their canoes. The Father in charge of the Indians also delivered a short speech, praising the warriors for their courage, congratulating them upon their gentleness, and showing them that it was for dogs and wolves to devour their prey, but that men should be humane, especially toward their fellow creatures; he told them that he had notified the Governor of their arrival, and that he had sent a squad of soldiers to welcome them.

Then the soldiers discharged their guns, which pleased the Indians. When these compliments had been paid, the prisoners disembarked from the canoes. As they did not understand the Algonquin language, they feared that, on entering the Cabins, they would be received with heavy strokes from cudgels, with blows from whips and ropes, with slashes from knives, and with burning firebrands, according to their custom.

Not long ago, when the Indians returned from war and brought prisoners with them, the girls and women, on seeing the canoes, would throw themselves into the water, stark naked, to catch what they could of the enemy's spoils. Such unseemly conduct is banished from the residence of saint Joseph. There was only one young man, and even he was not quite naked, who threw himself into the river and dived under the Captain's canoe. The Captain rewarded him by giving him one of the muskets that he had taken from the Iroquois. None of the others stirred. The prisoners were received as peaceably as in their own houses. The young girls came and asked the Father to give them permission to dance and enjoy themselves, which was willingly granted. The standards -- that is, the flying scalps -- were fastened on the cabins; and all feasted and made merry in their fashion.

There is some hold gained over the Indians, to hinder them from venting their fury on those who, when they hold them, treat them with fiendish cruelty. There was an old woman to whom the sight of these new guests was exceedingly unwelcome; however, she did not dare to touch them without permission. Addressing herself to the Father, she said: "My Father, allow me to caress the prisoners a little." This is an ironical expression they use when they wish to torture them. "They have killed, burned, and eaten my father, my husband, and my children. Permit me, my Father, to caress them." The Father replied to her that it was true that the Iroquois had done her great injury; but that she also had offended God, and that with what measure she meted to her enemies so would God measure it to her; that she would find forgiveness if she forgave, and vengeance if she revenged herself. The poor woman said not another word in reply, except these: "Then I will do them no harm."

At the same time, the Father casually asked another woman whether she loved Our Lord. This woman -- who is exceedingly vindictive, and had been almost insanely furious against the Iroquois -- replied in a gentle tone: "I love God more than I hate the Iroquois; that love alone which I bear to him prevents me from making them feel the injuries that they have done to me. I am the only one remaining of a large family; I am poor and abandoned. They have placed me in that condition for they roasted and ate all my relatives and all my friends. In fact, my heart would hate those people," she said; "but it has more love for God than hatred and aversion for them. That is why I wish them no evil."

On the second day after the arrival of these prisoners, the Governor proceeded to the residence of St. Joseph, well accompanied, and entered our modest house, where were also the victors, the vanquished, and the other Indians. Pieskaret spoke as follows: "It is to you that I address my words, you who are but one and the same thing, you who have but one secret, you who whisper into each other's ears. It is to the Captain of the French, and to you who in the past three years have become French, -- to you, Negabamat; to you, Etinechkaouat -- to whom I address my voice; you are but one council. Listen to me" (he named the two Captains who are at saint Joseph). "Although I have no sense, allow me to speak to you."

After this preamble, he explained the plan that he had had in going to war; and in conclusion he said: "I have seen, I have killed, I have captured, I have brought back; here they are present. I enter into your thoughts; they are good. I penetrate into your hearts, you who have but one abode and the same opinion. Be the Gods of the earth; cause peace to reign everywhere; give rest to the whole country." Then, laying his hand on the heads of the prisoners, who lay bound before the Governor, "Here they are, uninjured and without harm; I deliver them to you; do as you think best with them."

Bernard arose and spoke in these terms: "I confirm all that has been said by him who has just addressed us; and to prove that his words are true, and that he and I give you those prisoners, I will cast into the fire their bonds, the knife that will cut them, and all my anger." As he said this, he drew a knife and cut the bonds; and throwing the whole into the fire, he said: "I have no longer any passion, but for peace;" and, making the prisoners stand up, he presented them to Sir Charles de Montmagny, our Governor.

He replied to them, through his interpreter, that he honored their courage; that he had always loved them, especially those who had become his relatives through Baptism; besides, that he did not wish that his thanks for the present which they were giving him should be but a bare word; that he wished to clothe it with robes, and arm it with gunpowder and lead, -- speaking in their mode of expressing themselves, -- and then he gave them handsome presents.

The Iroquois, who had remained silent up to that moment, -- being uncertain as to the result of the council, and of the speeches that they heard and could not understand, -- began to change their attitudes and countenances. One of them, a tall and well-shaped man, presented himself before the Governor, exclaiming: "This is well, my body is delivered from death; I am withdrawn from the fire. Onontio, you have given me life; I thank you for it, -- I shall never forget this kindness. All of my country will be grateful for it; the earth will be quite beautiful, the river will be quite calm and smooth, and peace will make us all friends. I have no longer any shadow before my eyes, The souls of my ancestors killed by the Algonquins have disappeared; I have them under my feet. Onontio, it must be admitted that you are good and that we are wicked, but our anger has departed; I no longer have any enthusiasm except for joy and peace." As he said this, he began to dance, in a fashion somewhat different from that of our Indians. He sang, he shook himself; he spread out his arms and raised them aloft, as if speaking to Heaven; he knelt down and danced in that posture, raising his eyes and arms to Heaven. Then, suddenly rising, he took a hatchet and seemed to fly into a rage; and turning to one side, he threw the hatchet into the fire, saying: "There is my anger cast down: farewell to war; I lay down my arms; I am your friend forever.' If there be barbarous actions among these peoples, there are also thoughts worthy of the spirit of the Greeks and Romans.

The Ceremony over, each one withdrew to his own quarters. The prisoners remained at liberty, except that some French soldiers watched them. This our Indians themselves could not bear, saying that there was no need to fear that they would escape, and that they would be considered as cowards in their own country if they were afraid of those who had given them life. I have often remarked that the Indians, who are naturally fickle and inconstant, are earnest as regards some customs of their country.

This happened on the eighteenth of May. Shortly afterward, the Governor sent these Iroquois back to Three Rivers, and ordered Sir de Chanflour to equip the Iroquois prisoner that had been kept all winter, and to send him to his own country to carry the news of what was passing here. This prisoner was also ordered to tell the Captains of the Iroquois that Onontio was grateful for the courtesy that he had received from them when they sent back to him two French prisoners; and that, not only had he released him from the hands of the Algonquins, but that he had given him his liberty as he had done to a Sokoki Abenakis, their friend and ally; that he had two other prisoners full of health, and that he was quite prepared to give up these, after having heard them speak on the subject; that this was an excellent opportunity to smooth the earth, and to bring about universal peace among all the Nations. The following Chapter will show us the success of that journey.

TREATY OF PEACE BETWEEN THE FRENCH, THE IROQUOIS, AND OTHER NATIONS,

ON the fifth day of July, the Iroquois prisoner who had been set free and sent back to his own country, made his appearance at Three Rivers accompanied by two men of note among those people, who had been delegated to negotiate peace with Onontio (therefore they name the Governor), and all the French, and all the Indians who are our allies.

A young man named Guillaume Cousture who had been taken prisoner with Father Isaac Jogues, and who had since then remained in the Iroquois country, accompanied them. As soon as he was recognized, all threw their arms around his neck; he was looked upon as a man risen from the dead.

As soon as he landed, he informed us of the plan of the three Indians with whom he had been sent back. When the most important of the three, named Kiotsaeton, saw the French and the Indians hurrying to the bank of the river, he stood up in the bow of the sailboat that had brought him from Richelieu to Three Rivers. He was almost completely covered with wampum beads. Motioning with his hand for silence, he called out: "My Brothers, I have left my country to come and see you. At last I have reached your land. I was told, on my departure, that I was going to seek death and that I would never again see my country. But I have willingly exposed myself for the good of peace. I come to enter into the plans of the French, of the Hurons, and of the Algonquins. I come to make known to you the thoughts of all my country." When he had said this, the sailboat fired a shot from a swivel gun, and the Fort replied by a discharge from the cannon, as a sign of rejoicing.

When those Ambassadors had landed, they were conducted into the room of Sir de Chanflour, who gave them a cordial reception. They were offered some slight refreshments, and, after they had eaten and smoked, Kiotsaeton, who was always the spokesman, said to all the French who surrounded him, "I find much pleasure in your houses. Since I have set foot in your country, I have observed nothing but rejoicing. I see well that he who is in the Sky wishes to bring to a conclusion a important matter."

Meanwhile, both they and the prisoners who had not yet been given up had full liberty to wander where they willed. The Algonquins and Innu invited them to their feasts, and they gradually accustomed themselves to converse together. Sir de Chanflour treated them very well; one day he said to them that they were with us as if in their own country; that they had nothing to fear; that they were in their own house.

Kiotsaeton replied to this compliment by a pointed retort. "I ask you," he said to the Interpreter, "to say to that Captain who speaks to us that he tells a great falsehood with respect to us; what he says is not true." And then he paused a little, to let the wonder grow. Then he added: "That Captain tells me that I am here as if in my own country. That is far from the truth. I would be neither honored nor treated with such consideration in my own country, while here everyone honors me and pays me attention. He says that I am as if in my own house; that is a sort of falsehood, for I am maltreated in my house, and here I fare well every day; I am continually feasting. Therefore I am not as if I were in my own country or in my own house." He indulged in many other repartees which clearly showed that he had wit.

Finally, the Governor came from Quebec to Three Rivers; and after having seen the Ambassadors, he gave audience to them on the twelfth of July. This took place in the courtyard of the Fort, over which large sails had been spread to keep off the heat of the Sun. Their places were therefore arranged: on one side was the Governor, accompanied by his people and by Reverend Father Vimont, Superior of the Mission. The Iroquois sat at his feet, on a great piece of hemlock bark. They had stated before the assembly that they wished to be on his side, as a mark of the affection that they bore to the French.

Opposite them were the Algonquins, the Innu, and the Atikamekw; the two other sides were closed in by some French and some Hurons. In the center was a large space, somewhat longer than wide, in which the Iroquois caused two poles to be planted, and a cord to be stretched from one to the other on which to hang and tie the words that they were to bring us, -- that is, the presents they wished to make us, which consisted of seventeen collars of wampum beads, a portion of which were on their bodies.

The remainder were enclosed in a small pouch placed quite near them. When all had assembled and had taken their places, Kiotsaeton, who was tall in stature, rose and looked at the Sun, then cast his eyes over the whole Company; he took a collar of wampum beads in his hand and commenced to speak in a loud voice. "Onontio, lend me ear. I am the mouth for all of my country; you listen to all the Iroquois, in hearing my words. There is no evil in my heart; I have only good songs in my mouth. We have a multitude of war songs in our country; we have cast them all on the ground; we have no longer anything but songs of rejoicing."

Then he began to sing; his countrymen responded; he walked about that great space as if on the stage of a theatre; he made a thousand gestures; he looked up to Heaven; he gazed at the Sun; he rubbed his arms as if he wished to draw from them the strength that moved them in war. After he had sung awhile, he said that the present that he held in his hand thanked the Governor for having saved the life of Tokhrahenehiaron, when he drew him last Autumn out of the fire and away from the teeth of the Algonquins; but he complained gracefully that he had been sent back all alone to his own country. "If his canoe had been overturned; if the winds had caused it to be submerged; if he had been drowned, you would have waited long for the return of the poor lost man, and you would have accused us of a fault which you yourselves would have committed." When he had said this, he fastened his wampum collar in the appointed spot.

Drawing out another, he tied it to the arm of Guillaume Cousture, saying aloud: "It is this Collar that brings you back this prisoner. I would not have said to him, while he was still in our country: 'Go, my Nephew; take a Canoe and return to Quebec.' My mind would not have been at rest; I would always have thought over and over again to myself, 'Is he not lost?', I would have had no sense, had I acted in that way. He whom you have sent back had all the difficulties in the world, on his journey." He began to express them, but in so pathetic a manner that there is no comedian in France so ingenious as that Indian.

He took a stick, and placed it on his head like a bundle; then he carried it from one end of the square to the other, representing what that prisoner had done in the rapids and in the current of the water, -- on arriving at which he had transported his baggage, piece by piece. He went backward and forward, showing the journeys, the windings, and the turnings of the prisoner. He ran against a stone; he receded more than he advanced in his canoe, because alone he could not maintain it against the current. He lost courage, and then regained his strength. I have never seen anything better done than this acting. "Again" (said he), "if you had helped him to pass the rapids and the bad roads, and then if, while stopping and smoking, you had looked after him from afar, you would have pleased us. But I do not know where your thoughts were, to send a man back quite alone amid so many dangers. I did not do that. 'Come, my nephew,' I said to him whom you see before your eyes; 'follow me, I wish to bring you to your own country, at the risk of my life.'" That is what was said by the second collar, which he tied near the first.

The third showed that they had added something of their own to the presents that the Governor had given to the captive whom he had sent back to their country; and that those presents had been distributed to the Tribes who are their allies, to stop their hatchets, and to cause the weapons and paddles to fall from the hands of those who were embarking to go to war. He named all those Tribes.

The 4th present was to assure us that the thought of their people killed in war no longer affected them; that they cast their weapons under their feet. "I passed," he said, "near the place where the Algonquins massacred us last Spring. I saw the spot where the fight took place in which they captured the two prisoners who are here. I passed by quickly; I did not wish to see my people's blood that had been shed. Their bodies still lie in that place. I turned away my eyes for fear of exciting my anger; then, striking the earth and listening, I heard the voice of my Forefathers massacred by the Algonquins. When they saw that my heart was capable of seeking revenge they called out to me in a loving voice: 'My grandson, my grandson, be good; do not get angry. Think no longer of us for there is no means of withdrawing us from death. Think of the living, -- that is of importance; save those who still live from the sword and fire that pursue them; one living man is better than many dead ones.' After having heard those voices I passed on, and I came to you, to deliver those whom you still hold."

The fifth was given to clear the river, and to drive away the enemy's canoes, which might impede navigation. He made use of a thousand gestures, as if he had collected the waves and had caused a calm, from Quebec to the Iroquois country.

The sixth was to smooth the rapids and waterfalls that occur in the rivers on which one must sail to reach their country. "I thought that I would perish," he said, "in those boiling waters. This is to appease them;" and with his hands and arms he smoothed and arrested the torrents.

The seventh was to produce a profound calm on the great Lake Ontario that has to be crossed. "Here," he said, "is something to make it smooth as ice, to appease the winds, and to allay the anger of the waves." Then, after having by his gestures rendered the route easy, he tied a collar of wampum beads on the arm of a Frenchman, and pulled him straight across the square, to show that our canoes could go to their country without any difficulty.

The eighth performed the whole journey that had to be made on land. You would have said that he felled trees; that he lopped off branches; that he pushed back the bushes; that he put earth in the deepest holes. "There," said he, "is the road, quite smooth and quite straight." He bent toward the ground, looking to see whether there were any more thorns or bushes, and whether there were any mounds over which one might stumble in walking. "It is all finished. We can see the smoke of our villages, from Quebec to the extremity of our country. All obstacles are removed."

The ninth was to tell us that we would find fires all lighted in their houses; that we would not have the trouble of seeking for wood, -- that we would find some already cut; and that the fire would never go out, day or night, -- that we would see its light, even in our own homes.

The tenth was given to bind us all closely together. He took hold of a Frenchman, placed his arm within his, and with his other arm he clasped that of an Algonquin. Having therefore joined himself to them, "Here," he said, "is the knot that binds us inseparably; nothing can part us." This collar was extraordinarily beautiful. "Even if the lightning were to fall upon us, it could not separate us; for, if it cuts off the arm that holds you to us, we will at once seize each other by the other arm." And then he turned around, and caught the Frenchman and the Algonquin by their two other arms, -- holding them so closely that he seemed unwilling ever to leave them.

The eleventh invited us to eat with them. "Our country is well stocked with fish, with venison, and with game; it is everywhere full of deer, of Elk, of beaver. Give up," said he, "those stinking hogs that run about among your houses, that eat nothing but filth; and come and eat good meat with us. The road is cleared; there is no longer any danger." He accompanied his speech with appropriate gestures.

He lifted the twelfth collar, to dispel the clouds in the air, so that all might see quite plainly that our hearts and theirs were not hidden; that the Sun and the truth might light up everything.

The thirteenth was to remind the Hurons of their good will. "It is five days ago," he said, -- that is, five years, -- "since you had a pouch filled with wampum beads and other presents, ready to come and seek for peace. What made you change your minds? That pouch will overturned, the presents will fall out and break, they will be dispersed; and you will lose courage."

The fourteenth was to urge the Hurons to make haste to speak, -- not to be bashful, like women; and after taking the resolution to go to the Iroquois country, to pass by that of the Algonquins and of the French.

The fifteenth was to show that they had always desired to bring back Father le Jogues and Father Bressani; that they had thought that Father le Jogues had been stolen from them, and that they had given Father Bressani to the Dutch because he had desired it. "If he had had patience, I would have brought him back. How can I know now where he is?

Perhaps he is dead; perhaps he is drowned. It was not our intention to put him to death. If Francois Marguerie and Thomas Godefroy," he added, "had remained in our country, they would be married by this time; we would be but one Nation, and I would be one of you."

When Father le Jogues heard this speech, he said with a smile: "The stake was all prepared; had not God preserved me, they would have put me to death a hundred times. This good man says whatever pleases him." Father Bressani told us the same thing on his return.

The sixteenth was to receive them in this country when they came to it, and to protect them; to stay the hatchets of the Algonquins and the cannons of the French. "When we brought back your prisoners, some years ago, we thought that we were your friends, and we heard musket and cannon shots whistling on all sides of us. That frightened us; we withdrew; and as we have courage for war, we took the resolution to give proofs of it the following Spring; we appeared in your land, and captured Father le Jogues, with some Hurons, The seventeenth present was the collar that Honatteniate wore in his country. This young man was one of the two prisoners last captured. His mother, who had been Father Jogues's aunt in the Iroquois country, sent his collar for him who had given her son his life.

When the good woman learned that the good Father whom she called her Nephew was in this country, she rejoiced, and her son still more so; for he always seemed sad until Father Jogues came down from Montreal when he commenced to breathe freely and be in good spirits.

When this great Iroquois had said all that is mentioned above, he added: "I am going to spend the remainder of the summer in my country in games, in dances, in rejoicing for the good of peace; but I fear that, while we dance, the Hurons will come to taunt and implore us." That is what occurred at that assembly. Everyone admitted that this man was impassioned and eloquent. I gathered only some disconnected fragments, taken from the mouth of the interpreter who spoke only in a desultory manner and did not follow the order observed by the Indian.

He sang some songs between his gifts; he danced for joy; he showed himself to be a good Actor, for a man who has learned but what nature has taught him, without rule. The conclusion was that the Iroquois, the French, the Algonquins, the Hurons, the Innu, and the Atikamekw all danced and rejoiced with much gladness.

On the following day, the Governor gave a feast to all belonging to those Nations who were at Three Rivers, to urge them all together and to banish all distrust that might set them at variance. The Iroquois showed their satisfaction in every way; they sang and danced according to their custom, and Kiotsaeton strongly urged the Algonquins and Hurons to obey Onontio, and to follow the intentions and the thoughts of the French.

On the fourteenth of the same month; the Governor replied to the presents of the Iroquois by fourteen gifts, all of which had their meanings and which carried their own messages. The Iroquois accepted them all with great marks of satisfaction, which they showed by three loud cries, uttered at the same time from the depths of their chests, at each word or at each present that was given them. Thus was peace concluded with them, on condition that they should commit no act of hostility against the Hurons, or against the other Nations who are our allies, until the chiefs of those Nations who were not present had treated with them.

When this matter had been brought to a happy conclusion, Pieskaret arose and made a present of some furs to the Ambassadors, exclaiming that it was a rock or a tombstone that he placed on the grave of those who had been killed in the last fight, so that their bones might no longer be disturbed; and that the remembrance of what had happened might be forgotten, and revenge might no longer be thought of.

Then Noel Negabamat arose; he laid down in the middle of the square five great Elk skins. "There," he said to the Iroquois, "is something with which to cover your feet and your legs, in case you might hurt them on your return journey, if any stone should remain in the road that you have made smooth." He also gave them five others to serve as shrouds for those who had been killed in the battle, and to allay the grief of their relatives and friends, who could not bear to have them left unburied. He said that as he and his people at Sillery were invited in heart with their elder brother the Governor, they gave but one present with his. Finally three shots were fired from the cannon, to drive away the foul air of war, and to rejoice at the happy advent of peace.

After this meeting, an ill-disposed Huron confronted the Iroquois Captain who had always been the agent and spokesman, and sought to inspire him with distrust of the French. But the Captain nobly replied to him in these terms: "My face is painted on one side, while the other is quite clean. I do not see clearly on the side that is painted over; on the other side, my sight is good. The painted side is toward the Hurons, and I see nothing; the clean side is turned toward the French, and I see clearly, as in broad daylight." Having said this, he remained silent; and that evil-minded man was covered with confusion.

Toward evening, Reverend Father Vimont, the Superior of the Mission, caused the Iroquois to be brought to our house, where he presented to them some small gifts; he gave them some petun, or tobacco, and to each of them a handsome calumet or pipe with which to smoke it.

Kiotsaeton thanked him wittily: "When I left my country, I gave up my life and exposed myself to death, so that I am indebted to you for being still alive. I thank you that I still see the Sun; I thank you for having received me well; I thank you for having treated me well. I thank you for all the good conclusions to which you have come; all your words are agreeable to us. I thank you for your presents; you have covered us from our feet to our heads. Only our mouth remained free and you have filled it with a fine calumet" (tobacco pipe) "and have gladdened it with the flavor of a plant that is pleasing to us. I therefore bid you goodbye, but not for long; you will soon hear from us. Even if we are wrecked in the waters, even if we are quite submerged, I think that the Elements will in some way bear witness to our countrymen of your kind deeds; and I am convinced that some good genius has gone before us, and that our countrymen already have a foretaste of the good news that we are going to bring them."

On Saturday, the fifteenth, they started from Three Rivers. The Governor gave them two young French lads, both to help them to take back their canoes and their presents, and to show the confidence that he had in those people.

When Captain Kiotsaeton saw that his people had embarked, he raised his voice, and said to the French and to the Indians who were on the banks of the great river:

"Goodbye my brothers; I am one of your relatives. I am going to carry back good news to our country." Then, turning to the Governor, "Onontio, your name shall be great throughout the earth; I did not think that I would take back my head that I had risked, -- I did not think that it would go forth from your doors; and I am going back loaded with honor, with gifts, and with kindness. My brothers," speaking to the Indians, "obey Onontio and the French. Their hearts and their thoughts are good; remain united with them and accommodate yourselves to their customs. You will soon have news from us." The Indians replied by a fine salvo of musketry, and the Fort fired a cannon shot. Thus ended their Embassy.

CONTINUATION OF THE TREATY OF PEACE.

TO conclude and to secure peace in this new world, it was necessary that the delegates of the Iroquois, those of the Hurons, and the principal Captains of three or four Algonquin tribes, should meet all together at some place with the Governor; so all these Nations, -- who speak three or four different languages, whose dispositions are so distinct one from another, and who for so many years have been eating, devouring, and burning each other like madmen, -- should perform an act of the utmost wisdom, and that so many inhuman barbarians should find enough gentleness to agree together. To make everything sure, it was necessary that each should visit the others in their own country. All this seemed impossible to human skill.

Never had all these Nations who are accustomed to come and see us every year, come down so late; and if they had arrived sooner, they could not have gone up again, -- for the Iroquois Ambassadors, who held the matter in their hands, were not here. We expected them every day, speculating from afar upon the reasons that could have caused so extraordinary a delay. Not a single canoe had come down, whether from the Algonquins, the Nipissings, or the Hurons, to bring us any news of what was going on in the upper country. Each one spoke of it according to his own idea and in accordance with his own inclination. Some said that all the French who had gone up to the Huron country with our Fathers had been massacred; that the Devil had spoken to some Indians, and that consequently we should not expect any news from those countries. Others, who were more inclined to take a favorable view of the matter, conjectured that these tribes would come down in great numbers, and that it required a great deal of time to assemble them.

Meanwhile, the season was passing away, and our doubts were about to change to despair, when, all of a sudden, we saw upon the Saint Lawrence River sixty Huron canoes, laden with French, with Indians, and with furs. Father Jerome Lallemant -- whose arrival had been expected and desired for a whole year and more -- was in this fine Company.

The French soldiers whom the Queen had sent out last year came back in good health. The principal Captains of the Hurons brought back one of the two Iroquois whom they had taken prisoners in the previous year, near Richelieu, with the intention of presenting him to the Governor; this they did.

These Captains had orders from their country to enter into full negotiations for peace, and to follow the judgment of Onontio. At the same time, the Algonquins of the upper Tribes arrived, and so opportunely that one would have said that some higher power had sent workmen to make them appear at an appointed spot. All this happened at Three Rivers, where only the Iroquois were missing, who had given their word that they would be there in a short time. Had they delayed only a few days, this great concourse of Indians -- Atikamekw, Innu, Kichesipirini Algonquins and those of the Iroquet Algonquins Tribe (and others), Hurons -- would soon have been dispersed and scattered, without any hope that we could again assemble them together for a long time. But they came, one after another, at the most opportune time that could have been chosen. The Innu arrived there about the end of August; some Algonquins came shortly afterward. The Hurons landed on the tenth of September; the Kichesipirini Algonquins and other tribes came down two or three days before. The Governor came up on the twelfth of the same month. They waited only for the Iroquois delegates.

Finally, on the fifteenth, a canoe appeared, bearing five men of that Nation, who assured us that the presents of Onontio had been taken to their country for the confirmation of the peace, and that, in a few days, we would see some Ambassadors delegated to bring him word to that effect. In fact, on the seventeenth of the same month, we saw four of them, -- one of whom delivered a speech on the bank of the river, according to their custom, -- causing joy to all the French and to more than four hundred Indians of various tribes who were then at Three Rivers.

the Governor perceived them from afar, and sent a squad of soldiers to meet them and to prevent disorder. The soldiers formed in two lines and the Iroquois passed through them without being impeded by a large number of persons who gazed at them on all sides. They rested for the remainder of the day, and a council was held on the next day in the same manner that I have related in the previous Chapter. It is needless for me to repeat that words of importance in this country are presents. Suffice it to say that, as the speaker gave no presents, he spoke in these terms:

"I have no voice; do not listen to me. I speak not; I hold in my hand only a paddle to bring you back a Frenchman in whose mouth is the message from all our country." He spoke of the Frenchman whom I mentioned above, who had been taken prisoner with Father le Jogues, to whom the Iroquois had confided their presents, -- that is, their words. This Frenchman drew out eighteen presents, all consisting of wampum beads, of which he gave this explanation:

The first said that Onontio had a voice of thunder, that he made himself heard everywhere, and that at the sound of his words the whole Iroquois country had thrown away their weapons and their hatchets, -- but so far beyond the Sky that there were no arms in the world long enough to draw them back from there. The second said that, as the arms were beyond the sight of men, they ought to visit each other without fear while they enjoyed the sweets of peace.

At the third present, "Here," he said, representing the Iroquois, "is a mat or bed on which you can lie softly when you come to our country; for, as we are brothers, we would be ashamed if we did not treat you according to your deserts."

At the fourth, "It is not enough to have a good bed; the nights are cold; here is something with which to light a good fire, and to keep yourselves warm." The Indians usually sleep close to the fire.

At the fifth, "Of what use would it be to have a good bed and to lie warmly covered on it if you were not well fed? This present assures you that you will be feasted there, and will find the pot boiling on your arrival." He spoke always to the French.

At the sixth, "Here is a little ointment to heal the wounds which have been inflicted on the feet of the French, while they walked in their country, by stumbling against the stones or the roots that are often found there."

At the 7th, he said that, from the place where they leave the water to take to the land, there was a distance of fully 75 miles to be gone over before reaching their villages, and that all the baggage had to be carried on foot: that, as the French had had some difficulty, this present would slightly relieve their shoulders that were chafed by the weight of their packs.

At the 8th, "This is to assure the French that, if they wish to marry in this country, they will find wives here, since we are their friends and allies."

At the 9th, as the Algonquins had stated, at the first journey of the Iroquois, that they could not say anything positive during the absence of the chief men of their Nation, this present was given so all might speak, and so they would not cast the blame from one to the other, but clearly declare their presents.

At the 10th, "This," said he who explained them, "is to make the Hurons speak, and to draw their sentiments from the depth of their hearts."

The eleventh present said that the Iroquois chiefs did nothing but smoke in their country, and that their calumets (tobacco pipes) were always in their mouths. They wished to say that they awaited the word of the Algonquins and of the Hurons.

At the 12th, they said that the souls of their relatives who had been killed in war had withdrawn so far into the center of the earth that they could never think of them again, -- that is, that they had wiped out vengeance from their hearts.

At the 13th, they obeyed the voice of the Governor, who had ordered that hostilities be suspended, and that the hatchets be hidden. For that reason, they had passed the summer in dancing and feasting, without thinking of war.

At the 14th, they wished to know as soon as possible if they should continue their dances; and they desired that the Algonquins and the Hurons should hurry to speak, -- that is, to carry presents to their country, -- if they wished for peace.

The 15th was to lessen the fatigues of the French who had been in their country, who had used much diligence and had taken much trouble to bring news from the Iroquois to Onontio.

The 16th asked Onontio to have a woman of the Iroquois country sent back to it, who had been taken in war by the Algonquins and given to the French. This woman was taken to France some years ago and, after having been instructed and baptized, she died at the Convent of the Carmelites of Paris with evident marks of salvation.

The 17th asked Onontio to sound the Hurons and Algonquins, and get them to say clearly what their opinion was respecting peace or war.

The 18th was an excuse for not having brought back a little Frenchman whom they still detain in their country. "He is not a prisoner," he said, "he will return with those who shall bear the word of the Algonquins and Hurons."

When these presents had been made, the chief man among the Iroquois arose, and, drawing from his pouch some presents of wampum beads, he spoke in these terms:

At the first present, -- which he held in his hands, and showed to the whole assembly, while he walked about the square, -- he said that his country was full of Hurons and of Algonquin women (for, as regards the Algonquin men, they never spared their lives); that, however, those men and women were seated on logs or on stumps of trees outside of their villages, -- that is, they were not detained, and were ready to return to their country like the dried trees on which they sat, which have no roots and can easily be removed.

At the 2nd present, he said that the little Huron girl called Therese -- who had been captured just after she had left the Seminary of the Ursulines, while she was being taken to her own country -- was quite ready to be delivered up; and that, if the Hurons joined in the peace, she would return with them, if she wished; if not, they would keep her as a child brought up by the French, to prepare their food when they went to their own country.

The 3rd meant that all the gifts that the Governor had given to the first Ambassadors had been carried, according to his orders, to all the Tribes who are allied to them. He named all these.

At the 4th, he said that Onontio had given birth to Oneida -- this is a village that is allied to them -- but that, as it was still only a child, it could not speak; that, if the Governor took care of it, it would grow and speak. He meant that the present made to that village was a small one for negotiating an important peace, and that it must be increased, to get their promise. When this speech was ended, the Iroquois began to sing and to dance. He took a Frenchman on one side, an Algonquin and a Huron on the other; and holding one another by the arms, they danced in time, and sang in a loud voice a song of peace which they uttered from the depths of their chests.

After this dance, a Huron Captain named Jean Baptiste Atironta, a good Christian, arose and spoke loudly. "It is done," he said; "we are brothers. The conclusion has been reached; now we all are relatives, -- Iroquois, Hurons, Algonquins, and French; we are now but one and the same people. Betray no one," he said to the Iroquois. "As for us, know that we have sound hearts."

"I hear you," replied the Iroquois; "your word is good; you will find me true." Then, raising the last present, he exclaimed, "All the country that lies between us is full of Bears, of Deer, of Elk, of Beaver, and of numerous other animals. I am blind; I hunt at haphazard; when I have killed a Beaver, I think that I have secured a great prize. But you," speaking of the Algonquins, "who are clear-sighted, you have but to throw a javelin, and the animal falls. This present invites you to hunt, we shall benefit by your skill; we shall roast the animals on the same spit, and we shall eat on one side, and you on the other."

At the conclusion of this council, the Governor caused these three Nations to be thanked for the good words that they had given, urging them to remain firm in their purposes, and assuring them that he would always be their friend and faithful relative.

THE LAST MEETING HELD FOR THE PEACE.

ON the twentieth of the same month of September, the last meeting was held between the French, the Algonquins, -- who comprise several petty Tribes, -- the Hurons, and the Iroquois.

When Sir Charles de Montmagny had received all the presents mentioned in the preceding Chapter, he had them divided into three portions, in accordance with the practices of these peoples; and after having made his Interpreter speak, he offered one portion to the Hurons, another portion to the Algonquins, while the third was for the French. It was necessary to speak in four different languages, -- in French, in Huron, in Algonquin, and in Iroquois; we have here Interpreters of all those languages.

When these gifts had been presented, the Governor gave two others to the Iroquois -- one to wipe away the tears of the relatives of the Iroquois woman whom they had asked for, and who had died in France; the other that her bones might be laid to rest in her own country, or that she might be brought back to life, by making some other woman bear her name. Besides, he also gave two others to the Hurons and to the Algonquins, to invite them to express their thoughts freely with reference to the peace; for it was he, properly speaking, who was the author of it and who procured it for these peoples.

At this speech, a Huron Captain arose and said that, before replying to the words of Onontio, he wished, on behalf of all his country, to make him a present of an Iroquois prisoner whom he had expressed a desire to have in the previous year. He therefore took this captive with one hand, and with the other he held a branch of wampum on a stick; and walking across the square, he brought the poor Iroquois to the feet of the Governor, with this wampum that represented his bonds, the mark of his captivity. The Governor accepted the prisoner, and had him taken at once, with his bond of wampum beads, to the area where the Iroquois were seated, -- giving him his liberty, and placing him in the hands of his Countrymen. This young warrior showed sufficiently by his face that he felt much pleasure at seeing himself gently led toward his Captain, after having escaped the fire and the teeth of his enemies, who had become his friends.

This ceremony over, the Huron Captain replied to the summons of the Governor by fourteen presents, which he gave to the Iroquois, and of which the following is an explanation. These presents consisted of Beaver skins and wampum beads.

At the first, "Here," said he, "are the bonds of the prisoner who escaped from our hands last Autumn." The Hurons had taken three Iroquois near Richelieu; that they had given one of them to the Algonquins, who was afterward handed over to the Governor; and had taken the two others to their own country. One of these two captives escaped on the way, but he died in the woods of cold, hunger, and exposure. He belonged to a village called Oneida, that was angered to the last degree against the Hurons; for that nation had, in a battle, exterminated nearly all the men of that village. The Oneidas were compelled to request the Mohawks, and with whom we have made the peace, for men to marry the Oneida girls, and the women who were left without husbands, so that their tribe might not become extinct.

That is why the Iroquois call that village their Child; and because the Governor had sent them presents, and made peace with those who had repopulated their village, they also called him its Father.

The Huron Captain therefore offered the bonds of the prisoner who had escaped, as a token that they would not have put him to death, and that they had intended to set him at liberty.

At the second present, "This," said he, "is to carry back the bones of your child to his country." It is the custom of the Hurons to remove the flesh from the bones of their people, and to place them with those of their relatives, in whatever quarter of the world they may die.

At the third, "Here is the bond that will bind those bones together, and enable you to carry them more easily." He wished to console them and to wipe away their tears, according to the fashion of the Indians, who give presents to the relatives of their deceased friends.

At the fourth, he said, "This is a token that we are friends; this present will make a road from your villages to ours."

The fifth opened the gates of their villages and the doors of their houses.

The sixth invited them to go and see some Iroquois prisoners whom the Hurons detained in their country. This was asking them to bring presents so as to go and claim them in safety.

At the seventh, -- as the Iroquois had said at the previous assembly that Oneida was their child, and the child of the Governor and that it could not yet speak, -- "Here," said the Captain, "is something to make a cradle for it," meaning that the Hurons wished for peace with that village.

The eighth was given to cause all the weapons and all the hatchets that might still be in the hands of the Iroquois, to drop.

The ninth was to snatch their shields from their backs, where they generally carry them, moving them backward and forward as they please in battle.

The tenth was to lower their war Standard.

The eleventh, to stop the reports of their muskets.

The twelfth, to wash away the paint from their faces. These Indians are accustomed, when they go to war, to paint themselves in various colors, and to oil or grease their heads and faces. "Here," said he, "is something to remove the stains from your faces and your eyes, so that the day may be quite fine and serene."

The thirteenth was to break the kettle in which they boiled the Hurons whom they took in war, to eat them.

The fourteenth asked that a mat -- that is, a bed or a lodging -- be prepared for the Hurons who would soon go to the Iroquois country.

"All these presents," he added, "are nothing; we have many others in our country, which await you."

When the Hurons had replied to the demand of the Governor, and had showed by all these presents that they desired peace, an Algonquin arose and gave some presents, of which the following is the meaning:

At the first, he threw down a bundle of Beaver skins. "This is to show who I am, and to what nation I belong, -- I who live in traveling houses built of small pieces of bark." Thus they distinguish the Wandering Algonquins from the Hurons, who are settled.

At the second, "This present will stop your complaints; it will subdue your anger, and will cause our rivers and yours to wash away the blood that has been shed by Algonquins and by Iroquois."

"This third present will give us free entrance to your houses, after breaking down the gates of your villages."

At the fourth, "Here is something with which to smoke with one another, both Iroquois and Algonquins, in the same pipe, as friends do who use tobacco together."

"The fifth will make us sail in the same ship or in the same canoe; so that, as we shall be but one people, but one village, one house, one Calumet (tobacco pipe), and one canoe will be needed. The remainder of our words, or of our presents, will be carried to your country." Thus he ended his speech.

the Governor afterward made the interpreters speak, offering a present that assured the Iroquois that he would see that those two great nations kept their word.

He also gave another present to be carried to the village of Oneida, so as to give news to his child (making use of their own terms), that he desired to make the whole earth beautiful, and to smooth it so that one might walk everywhere without stumbling, and without meeting any misadventure.

When the Iroquois Captain had received these presents, he arose and, looking at the Sun and then at the entire assembly, he said: "Onontio, you have dispersed the clouds; the air is serene, the Sky shows clearly; the Sun is bright. I see no more trouble; peace has made everything Calm; my heart is at rest; I go away happy."

Onontio caused all these nations to be urged to remain constant and faithful; then he broke up the meeting, and on the following day he gave a feast, in the fashion of the Indians, to more than four hundred people. "Things are going well," said all the guests; "we eat all together, and we have but one dish." Reverend Father Jerome Lalemant who had started from the Huron country with the fear of meeting Iroquois, watched them at these assemblies with eyes full of joy.

Finally, on the 23rd of September, these Iroquois Ambassadors, accompanied by two Frenchmen, two Algonquins, and two Hurons, returned to their own country, leaving among our Indians, who were now their allies, three men of their nation as hostages, or rather as pledges, of their friendship.

MISCOU.

Writes Father Richard:

"We have baptized 14 since my last letter -- among these a family of eight persons; its head, whose name is Iariet, was named Denis by Sir Prevost, Captain in the King's navy, commanding the Ship St. Joseph; and his wife was named Marguerite.

"Denis Iariet said to me: 'I will pray in earnest, and will be a good man. I regret my past life; I hate sin, and wish to lead a better life in future.' Then, drawing out a quantity of wampum beads, he said: 'I am sorry that I am so poor; I have neither Moose nor Beaver to present to those Gentlemen who so obliged us at our Baptism. I wish that I had something by which I might acknowledge the kindness that we have received, but since I have nothing else, I shall be pleased if they will deign to accept this little present from me.'

"We thanked him, and were satisfied with this sign of his good will. He therefore withdrew, and returned to Nepisiguit to continue the hunt for Beaver, and to help as much as he could in completing the building that the Abbot of Saint Magdaleine, and the Associates for Miscou, have had begun near us for him and for Joseph Nepsuget, who was baptized last year. They are on good terms with each other; they are good comrades, and hunt together in Summer and in Winter. They had much to suffer at the beginning of last Winter and God tried their constancy and courage. They had selected their hunting district far within the forest, hoping there to meet better success. They had intended to store a supply of Salmon; but the frost prevented them, and closed the rivers, which quickly reduced them to want. They subsisted as best they could until Advent, when they found themselves completely destitute Of provisions. They searched and hunted everywhere without finding anything but a few Porcupines, and that seldom.

"They were compelled to eat their dogs, their skins, and their shoes, and often passed several days without food. During that time, a strange thing happened to a young Frenchman who wintered with them. One day, when a dog had been killed to save the lives of numerous persons who were starving, this boy, who was not satisfied with the little that they had given to him, seized the liver of the animal, that had been thrown away, and cooked and ate it. He was warned to leave that meat, -- that it would do him harm and make his skin fall off. He would not believe it, and continued his meal, but to his regret, -- for it cost him his skin, which fell off in great flakes without any pain, so that in a short time his skin was entirely changed. The Indians know by experience this result on those who have eaten that meat.

"Finally, after God allowed them to suffer through famine from the eighth of December to the sixth of January, he sent them an abundance of food, and three times as much as the other Indians had. In the first place, they killed a Moose with much difficulty, for they were extremely weak and could hardly stand. This food restored their strength and courage to some extent; so they took the field in all directions, and in a short time they filled their cabin with meat.

"A band of Indians, of the chief men of Acadia, led by a brave Captain named Herout, passed here last Spring, on their way to war. On their return from war, a group of them passed by our House of Nepisiguit where they showed themselves as zealous for the prayers as they had been at Miscou. They came to rejoice with our Indians at the brave exploits of the war that they had performed at Chichedek, in the Country of the Betsiamite Innu, where they had killed seven Indians and taken thirteen or fourteen prisoners, most of whom were children. Those from the Bay here, who had gone before them with the same purpose of war, never ventured to attack any Canoes that they met there, because they imagined, from their speech, that they prayed to God. But these others, who have less love for prayer and are not so well instructed, did not disturb themselves on that account. They threw themselves on the first prey that fell into their hands; they came back victorious, and desired by these massacres to allay the grief of all the Country, which is distressed by the death of many persons who have died during the past few years.

"They threw on the shore, at landing, the scalps of the poor massacred people, and at the same time spread joy throughout the cabins. The women vied with one another who should first seize these Trophies, and who should sing and dance the best. Neither rain nor wind could stop them, from morning to night. It is strange that this constant and continued dancing and singing for several days did not tire or weary them. But a false alarm, and the rumor that the enemy had appeared, interrupted their rejoicing, threw them into fear of falling into the hands of the Iroquois, and made them think of flight. They all withdrew to Miscou, where for a long time they continued their wicked songs to the cadence of the waving scalps.

"As for the French, you are aware that we devote ourselves to those who winter in this settlement, and to several fishing ships that come here every year and spend the Summer on these Coasts; and this Mission supplies the spiritual needs for them, and for the Indians of the Country. As the Indians readily remain near the ships, we cannot assist the one without also having the means of assisting the other. But liquor, which is here traded and sold with impunity, is the scourge of this region."

LETTER FROM FATHER JEROME LALEMANT, WRITTEN FROM THE HURON COUNTRY TO THE REVEREND FATHER PROVINCIAL OF THE JESUITS. 1645.

Reverend Father,

I was deprived last year, because the letters that you had written to me had fallen into the hands of the Iroquois, our enemies. I learned, however, at the end of the Summer, the orders that you had sent, in accordance with which I have left the care of this Huron Mission to Father Paul Ragueneau and have prepared to depart from these upper countries and go down to Quebec. In my uncertainty as to what might happen to me on the way, I have deemed it advisable to write this letter previous to my departure, and to leave it here to be sent after me.

Maladies succeeded one another, until it seemed as if they singled out the Christians more than the Infidels, cruelly decimating their families, and more frequently sparing those who had refused Baptism, -- while at the same time, in the same cabin, and in the same bed, death snatched others from us who had embraced the Faith.

Then Famines had their turn; and the people thought that, because they had changed Masters, and had placed their confidence in God rather than in the Demons of Hell, the Faith had drawn these misfortunes after it.

Wars have been more pitiless, and, although they have ravaged this Country most cruelly, without sparing any sex, age, or condition of persons. Into the heart of the Country, the Iroquois have come from 250 miles' distance, to slay those who supported the faith. These were deeply felt losses for a Church newly born; but those that have followed since our last Reports have seemed more disastrous, -- not only to the advancement of the Faith, but also to all these Countries, which become weaker day by day, and seem to be drawing near their ruin, if some arm more powerful than ours does not stop their Enemies.

A year ago last Summer, our Christians had mustered a band of about a hundred picked men, who joined some Infidel warriors to go and lay ambushes on the frontiers of the enemy's Country. They were met by seven or eight hundred Iroquois; and after fighting for a whole evening and a whole night, they were all killed on the field of battle or taken prisoner, not one effecting his escape.

One misfortune attracts another. In the same year, two bands of Hurons fell into the hands of other Iroquois who are nearer Quebec, and who lay in wait for them on the River they descend to go and see the French, and to trade their Beaver skins and furs with them.

And last year, three other fleets, mostly of Christians, also met with death or captivity on the same road, -- one, soon after their departure from Three Rivers; another, a little above Ville-Marie; the last, about 150 miles higher up. For the peril continues over 250 miles of road. There is no safety for a moment from an enemy hidden in the rushes along the banks of the river, or in the depths of the forest, which screen them from your sight while they can see you coming from a distance of 10, 12, or 15 miles, -- therefore having time to prepare for a combat, if they see that you are weaker; or to retreat, or remain hidden in their ambush, if they consider you the stronger.

A single band, which had passed through these dangers, reached here safely, and brought to us Father Jean de Brebeuf, whose absence during three years had been felt by us, and Fathers Leonard Garreau and Noel Chabanel, who had newly come to our assistance. Their arrival consoled us in our recent loss of Father Bressany, who had fallen into the hands of the Iroquois. This band was escorted by the troops which Sir Charles de Montmagny, our Governor, sent us most opportunely, not only for the preservation of the poor Hurons, who ran a great risk of also falling into the ambushes of the enemies, but still more for strengthening this Country, which was threatened this Winter with the sight of an Iroquois army coming to ravage their villages, bringing with it general desolation, and wasting everything with fire and sword. But the arrival of this relief made them alter their plans. And if this same escort of French Soldiers, which is about to accompany the Hurons who are going down the river, reach Quebec as safely as they came up last year, Heaven will have blessed all the plans of our Governor.

If we had to judge the establishment of the Faith in these countries from the standpoint of human prudence, there is no place in the world more difficult to subject to the Laws of Jesus Christ; they have no knowledge of letters, no Historical monuments, and no idea of a Divinity who has created the world and who governs it; but, above all, there is no people on earth freer than they, and less able to allow the subjection of their wills to any power whatever, -- so much so that fathers here have no control over their children, or Captains over their subjects, or the Laws of the country over any of them, except in so far as each wants to submit to them.

There is no punishment which is inflicted on the guilty, and no criminal whose life and property are in danger, even if he were convicted of three or four murders, of having received a reward from the enemy for betraying his country, or breaking off by his own act a peace that is decided upon by the whole country. These are crimes that I have seen committed, the authors of which have gloried in them and have boasted that the wars that they had aroused would make their names immortal. It is not because there are no Laws or punishments proportionate to the crimes, but it is not the guilty who suffer the penalty. It is the public that must make amends for the offenses of individuals; so, if a Huron has killed an Algonquin or another Huron, the whole country assembles; and they come to an agreement respecting the number of presents to be given to the Tribe or to the relatives of him who has been killed, to prevent the vengeance that they might take. The Captains urge their subjects to provide what is needed; no one is compelled to it, but those who are willing, bring publicly what they wish to contribute; it seems as if they vied with one another according to the amount of their wealth, as the desire of glory and of appearing solicitous for the public welfare urges them to do. Although this form of justice restrains all these peoples, and seems more effectually to repress disorders than the personal punishment of criminals does in France, it is still a mild proceeding, which leaves individuals in such a spirit of liberty that they never submit to any Laws and obey no other impulse than that of their own will.

Add to this that the laws of the Country, which to them seem most just, attack the purity of the Christian life in a thousand ways, especially since regards their marriages -- the dissolution of which, with freedom to seek another consort, is more frequent and easy here than it is in France for a master to take another servant, when the one he has does not please him. The result is that, in the closest of their marriages, the faith that they pledge each other is nothing more than a conditional promise to live together so long as each shall continue to render the services that they mutually expect from each other. If this fail, divorce is considered reasonable on the part of the injured one, although the other group who has given occasion for it is blamed.

But the greatest opposition that we meet in these Countries consists in their remedies for diseases; their greatest amusements when in good health; their fishing, their hunting, and their trading; the success of their crops, of their wars, and of their councils, -- almost all abound in diabolical ceremonies. So, as superstition has contaminated nearly all the actions of their lives, to be a Christian, one must deprive himself not only of pastimes which elsewhere are wholly innocent, but even of the most necessary things, and die to the world at the moment that one wishes to assume the life of a Christian. Not that, after examining their superstitions more closely, we find that the Devil interferes and gives them any help beyond the operation of nature; but still they rely on him; they believe that he speaks to them in dreams; they invoke his aid; they make presents and sacrifices to him, -- sometimes to appease him and sometimes to render him favorable to them; they attribute to him their health, their cures, and all the happiness of their lives.

Add to this the fury of an Iroquois enemy who closes the way to us; who kills those who come to our aid; who depopulates the country, and makes our Hurons think of giving up the trade with the French, because they find that it costs them too dear, and they prefer to do without European goods rather than to expose themselves every year, not to a death that would be endurable, but to fires and flames, for which they have a thousand times greater horror.

At present, we have a greater knowledge than ever of their language, of their customs, and of the means that must be taken to enter into their minds and hearts. We find it easy to explain to them the truths of our Faith which, at the beginning, seemed to us the most difficult to explain, owing to the poverty of their language in such matters, and the ignorance in which they had always lived of things beyond the reach of sight and of the senses.

If we had but the Hurons to convert, it might be thought that from ten to twenty thousand people are not so great a conquest that one should expose himself to so many hazards. But we are only at the entrance of a land, which on the West, as far as China, is full of Nations more populous than the Hurons; toward the South, we see other Peoples beyond number, to whom we can have access only by means of this door at which we now stand.

A Captain, who is one of the highest in rank in the whole Country, shortly after his Baptism, when he saw that, in the performance of the duties of his office of Captain, he was called upon to be present at some superstitious ceremonies forbidden to Christians, he left the company, and gave orders in his cabin to take elsewhere the symbols of his authority and the public presents of which he was the custodian. These are not the Regalia nor the immense riches of European Princes; but they are what is here considered the most honored and the most precious treasures of the Country. The Infidels were astonished at this act; his father, his wife, his relatives asked him what he meant to do.

"I am a Christian," he replied; "and if to avoid sin I must abandon even life, my soul is not attached to my body."

The village is in a commotion; the council meets to deliberate on the matter. They spend the night and day in attempting to bend his will; but his only answer is that he is a Christian. "Then," said the Elders, "we must resign ourselves to seeing our Country ruined, since our chief Captains align themselves on the side of the Faith. How can we prevent this disorder?"

"You are thinking of it too late," he replies; "you should have opposed the progress of the Faith before it had entered our hearts."

At last, to find a way out of this difficulty, which the Elders feared would bring about the dissolution of their village, which is one of the largest in the Huron country, the Council decided that it was necessary to divide the office that this Christian Captain so obstinately persisted in resigning; that someone else should take charge of the matters forbidden by the Faith, who might be called the Devils' Deputy; that the Christian should continue to administer public affairs, and should always be acknowledged as their real Captain. He was asked to accept, as, by therefore delivering him from the things of which he had a horror, he had nothing more to complain of. "Yes, I can do so now," he replied; "but know once for all that a true Christian considers nothing more precious than the Faith, and that he thinks little of earth when he looks at Heaven."

Our Christians, on going to war, had taken with them two Infidel Captains, who were among the most war-like in the country, and won them over to our Faith; they instructed them so successfully, during the two months that the campaign lasted, that they had to baptize them because they could not refuse the urgent requests made to them by these good Christian trainees, -- who they said could no longer march bravely in the enemies' country when they thought that each day would be the last of their lives, and that, if they died before being baptized, they would be damned for eternity. They knelt on the shore of Lake Ontario. Two Christians, who had taken charge of instructing them, baptized them publicly. The two good Neophytes placed themselves at the head of their army, and long withstood the assaults of the enemy; finally, their loss caused the defeat of the Hurons, and left the victory entirely in the hands of the Iroquois, who were seven to one. Our Church has lost much by the death of those two Captains and of many Christians who remained on the field with them, for not one fled.

A young man -- a Christian trainee -- decided to go to war along with some Christians. The advance guard brought the news that they saw the enemy. All immediately hurry to arms, and take the field; the enemy flees, and is pursued for six whole hours. The newly-baptized man leaves his comrades behind, and advances so far that he finds himself alone, surrounded by thirty Iroquois, who pierce him with javelin thrusts, remove his scalp, and continue their flight without one of them being caught.

One of the most right-minded men of this Country, voluntarily abstains from feasts, in case he find there some occasion for sin; he keeps away from company; the women who had formerly most possessed his heart now find no entrance there, -- he has neither eyes nor tongue for them. When Summer comes, he embarks to go down to Quebec. He met the enemies and defended himself bravely. He had already overturned one of their Canoes in the water, when a shot from a musket pierced his head through and through.

Of the seven Churches that we have here, six are stationary; the first is at our House of Saint Marie, the five others in the principal Huron villages, -- la Conception, saint Joseph, saint Michel, saint Ignace, and saint Jean Baptiste. The seventh Church called that "of the Holy Ghost," consists of Algonquins, several Tribes of whom wintered together this year on the great Lake Huron, about 62 miles from us. This compelled Father Claude Pijart and Father Leonard Garreau, who were appointed for their instruction, to pass the Winter with them.

From the Huron country, this 15th of May, 1645.

Jerome Lalemant

YEAR 1646
NEW NETHERLAND (1643), BY FATHER ISAAC JOGUES.

New Netherland -- which the Dutch call, in Latin, Novum Belgium; in their own language, Nieuw Nederland; that is, New Netherland -- is situated between Virginia and New England. The entrance to the River, which some call the River Nassau, or the great River of the North (Hudson River), to distinguish it from another which they call South River (Delaware River), -- and some charts that I have recently seen, the River Maurice, -- is in the latitude of 40 degrees, 30 minutes. Its channel is deep, and navigable by the largest ships, which go up to Manhattan Island, which is 17 miles in circumference; on it is a fort (Fort Amsterdam) intended to serve as nucleus for a town to be built, and to be called New Amsterdam (New York City).

This fort (Fort Amsterdam), which is at the point of the island, about 12 or 15 miles from the river's mouth, is called fort Amsterdam; it has 4 regular bastions, provided with several pieces of artillery. All these bastions and the walls were, in 1643, merely earthworks, most of which had quite given way, and through them the fort could be entered from all sides; there were no trenches. For the defense of this fort, -- and of another which they had built, farther on, against the incursions of the Indians, their enemies, -- there were 60 soldiers. They were beginning to case the gates and the bastions with stone. In this fort, there was a house of worship, built of stone, which was quite spacious; the house of the Governor, -- whom they call the director General, -- built quite neatly of brick; and the storehouses and soldiers' quarters.

There may be, on the Island of Manhattan and in its vicinity, about 400 or 500 men of various sects and nations. The Director General told me that there were men of eighteen different languages; they are scattered up and down the stream, according as the beauty or convenience of the sites caused each one to settle. Some artisans, however, who work at their trades, are located under cover of the fort; all the others are exposed to the incursions of the Indians, who, in 1643, when I was there, had killed about forty Hollanders, and burned many houses, and barns full of wheat.

The River, which is straight, and flows directly from North to South, is at least 2 miles wide before the Fort. The ships are at anchor in a bay which forms the other side of the island, and they can be defended by the Fort.

Shortly before I arrived there, 3 large ships of 300 tons had come to load wheat; two had received their loads, but the 3rd could not be loaded, because the Indians had burned a part of the grain. These ships had sailed from the West Indies, where the India Company usually maintains seventeen war vessels.

There is no exercise of Religion except the Calvinist, and the orders declare that none but Calvinists be admitted; still, that point is not observed, -- for besides the Calvinists, there are in this settlement Catholics, English Puritans, Lutherans, Anabaptists, whom they call Mnistes, etc.

When anyone comes for the first time to dwell in the country, they furnish him horses, cows, etc., and give him provisions, -- all which he repays when he is well settled; and as for lands, at the end of ten years he gives the Company of the West Indies a tenth of the produce that he harvests.

This country has for limits, on the New England side, a River which they call the Fresh River (Connecticut River), which serves as boundary between them and the English; still, the English approach them closely, -- preferring to have lands among the Dutch, who require nothing from them, to depending upon English gentry, who exact rents, and like to put on airs of being absolute. On the other side, -- the Southern, toward Virginia, -- it has for limits the River which they call South River (Delaware River), on which there is also a Dutch settlement; but at its entrance the Swedes have another, extremely well equipped with cannon and people. It is believed that these Swedes are maintained by Amsterdam merchants, incensed because the Company of the west Indies monopolizes all the trade of these regions. It is toward this River that they have found, it is said, a gold mine.

During fully 50 years, the Dutch have frequented these regions. In 1615, the fort (Fort Amsterdam) was begun; about 20 years ago, they began to make a settlement; and now there is already a little trade with Virginia and New England. The first newcomers found lands quite suitable for use, cleared in former times by the Indians, who tilled their fields there. Those who have come since have made clearings in the woods, which are commonly of oak; the lands are good. Deer hunting is abundant toward autumn. There are some dwellings built of stone: they make the lime with oyster shells, of which there are great heaps made in former times by the Indians, who partly live by that fishery. The climate there is mild, as that region is situated at 40 and two-thirds degrees latitude; there are plenty of European fruits, as apples, pears, Cherries. I arrived there in October, and even then I found many Peaches.

Ascending the River as far as the 43rd degree latitude, you find the 2nd settlement, which the flow and Ebb of the tide reaches, but extends no further; ships of 100 and 120 tons can land there. There are two items in this settlement, which is called Renselaerswick (Albany), -- as if one should say, "the settlement of Renselaers," who is a wealthy merchant of Amsterdam: first, a wretched little fort, named Fort Orange, -- built of logs, with 4 or 5 French cannons, and as many swivel guns, -- which the Company of the West Indies has reserved for itself, and which it maintains. This fort was formerly on an Island formed by the Hudson River; it is now on the mainland on the side of the Iroquois, a little above this Island.

There is, secondly, a Colony sent there by that Renselaers, who is its Patron. This colony is composed of about a hundred persons, who live in 25 or 30 houses built along the River, as each has found convenient. In the principal house is lodged the Patron's representative; the Minister has his own house, in which Preaching is held. There is also a sort of Bailiff, whom they call Steward, who has charge of Justice. All their houses are merely of boards, and are covered with thatch. There is no masonry, except in the chimneys. As the forests supply many stout pines, the people make boards by means of their mills, which they have for this purpose.

They have found some suitable lands, which the Indians had formerly prepared, on which they plant corn and oats, for their beer, and for the horses, of which they have a great many. There are few lands fit to be tilled, as they are narrowed by hills, which are poor soil; that obliges them to separate from one another, and they already hold 5 or 7 miles of territory.

Trade is free to everyone, which enables the Indians to obtain all things cheaply: each of the Dutch outbidding his companion, and being satisfied, provided he can gain some little profit.

This settlement is not more than 50 miles from the Mohawks; there is access to them either by land or by water, -- the River on which the Iroquois dwell (Mohawk River) falling into that which passes by the Dutch (Hudson River); but there are many shallow rapids, and a fall of a short mile, past which the canoe must be carried.

There are several nations between the two Dutch settlements, which are 125 or 150 miles apart. The Mahicans, whom the Iroquois call Agotsaganens, are the nearest to the settlement of Albany or to Fort Orange. Several years ago, there being a war between the Iroquois and the Mahicans, the Dutch Joined the Mahicans against the others; but, 4 having been taken and burned, peace was made.

Later, some nations near the sea having slain some Dutch of the most remote settlement, the Dutch killed 150 Indians, -- not only men and women, but also little children. The Indians having, in various reprisals, killed 40 Dutch, burned many houses, and wrought damage estimated at one hundred thousand gold coins, troops were enlisted in New England. Accordingly, at the beginning of winter, the grass being short, and some snow on the ground, six hundred men chased the Indians with two hundred being always on the march and one set continually relieving another. The result was that, being shut up on a great Island, and unable to flee easily, because of the women and children, there were as many as sixteen hundred Indians killed, including women and children. This compelled the remainder of the Indians to make peace, which still continues. That occurred in 1643 and 1644.

From Three Rivers, in New France, August 3, 1646.

ACCOUNT OF RENE GOUPIL (FRENCH LAYMAN), BY FATHER ISAAC JOGUES.

RENE Goupil was a native of Anjou, France, who, in his youth, urgently requested to be received into our training period at Paris, where he remained some months with much education. His bodily illnesses having prevented the happiness of consecrating himself to God in holy Religion, -- for which he had a strong desire, -- he journeyed, when his health improved, to New France, to serve the Jesuits there, since he had not had the blessing of giving himself to it in old France. And, although he was fully master of his own actions, he totally submitted himself to the guidance of the superior of the Mission, who employed him two whole years in the petty duties about the house, in which he acquitted himself with great humility and Charity. He was also given the care of nursing the sick and the wounded at the hospital, which he did with much skill, for he understood surgery well.

When we came down from the Hurons in July, 1642, we asked Reverend Father Vimont to let us take him with us, because the Hurons had great need of a Surgeon; he granted our request. He knew the great dangers that await one upon the river; he knew how the Iroquois were enraged against the French. Yet that could not prevent him from setting forth for Three Rivers.

We departed from there on the 1st of August. On the 2nd, we encountered the enemies, who, separated into two bands, were awaiting us with the advantage which a great number of chosen men, fighting on land, can have over a small and irregular band, who are upon the water in scattered canoes of bark. Nearly all the Hurons fled into the woods, and as they had left us, we were seized. As soon as he saw himself captured, Rene said to me: "O my father, God be blessed; he has permitted it, he has willed it, his holy will be done."

While the enemies pursued the fugitives, I heard his confession, and gave him absolution, -- not knowing what might befall us after our capture. The enemies, having returned from their hunt, fell upon us like mad dogs, with sharp teeth, -- tearing out our nails, and crushing our fingers, which he endured with much courage. His presence of mind in so grievous a mishap appeared especially in that he aided me, despite the pain of his wounds, in the instruction of the captive Hurons who were not Christians. While I was instructing them separately, he called my attention to the fact that a poor old man, named Ondouterraon, was among those whom they would probably kill on the spot, -- their custom being always to sacrifice someone in the heat of their fury. I instructed this man at leisure, while the enemies were attending to the distribution of the plunder from 12 canoes, some of which were laden with necessaries for our Fathers among the Hurons. The booty being divided, they killed this poor old man. We still had the consolation, during the journey that we made in going to the enemy's country, that we were together.

Covered with wounds as Rene was, he dressed those of other persons, -- the enemies who had received some blow in the fight, as well as the prisoners themselves. He opened a vein for a sick Iroquois; and all that with as much charity as if he had done it to persons friendly.

His humility, and the obedience which he rendered to those who had captured him, confused me. The Iroquois who conveyed us both in their canoe told me that I must take a paddle, and use it; I would do nothing of the kind, being proud even in death. They addressed him in the same way, and immediately he began to paddle; and when those barbarians tried to drive me, by his example, to do the like, he, having perceived it, asked my pardon. I sometimes suggested to him, along the way, the idea of escaping, since the liberty which they gave us furnished him sufficient opportunities for this; but as for myself, I could not leave the French and 24 or 25 Huron captives. He would never do so, -- committing himself in everything to the will of Our Lord.

On the lake we met 200 Iroquois, who came to Richelieu while the French were beginning to build the fort; these loaded us with blows, covered us with blood, and made us experience the rage of those who are possessed by the demon. All these outrages and these cruelties he endured with great patience and charity toward those who ill-treated him.

On approaching the first village, where we were treated so cruelly, he showed a most uncommon patience. Having fallen under the shower of blows from clubs and iron rods with which they attacked us, and being unable to rise again, he was brought, half dead, upon the scaffold where we already were, in the middle of the village; but he was in so pitiful a condition that he would have inspired compassion in cruelty itself. He was all bruised with blows, and in his face one distinguished nothing but the whites of his eyes.

Hardly had he taken a little breath, when they came to give him 3 blows on his shoulders with a heavy club, as they had done to us before. When they had cut off my thumb, -- as I was the most conspicuous, -- they turned to him and cut his right thumb at the 1st joint, -- while he continually uttered, during this torment: "JESUS, MARY, JOSEPH." During six days, in which we were exposed to all those who wished to do us some harm, he showed an admirable gentleness; he had his whole breast burned by the coals and hot cinders which the young lads threw upon our bodies at night, when we were bound flat on the earth. Nature furnished more skill to me than to him for avoiding a part of these pains.

After they had given us life, -- at the time when, a little before, they had warned us to prepare for being burned, -- he fell sick, suffering great inconveniences in every respect, and especially in regard to the food, to which he was not accustomed. I could not relieve him, -- for I was also sick, and had none of my fingers sound or entire.

After we had been in the country six weeks, -- as confusion arose in the councils of the Iroquois, some of whom were quite willing that we should be taken back, -- we lost the hope of again seeing Three Rivers that year. One day, we had gone forth from the Village, to pray with less disturbance, and two young men came after us to tell us that we must return home. We accordingly return toward the Village. Having stopped near the gate of the Village, to see what they might say to us, one of those two Iroquois draws a hatchet, which he held concealed under his blanket, and deals a blow with it on the head of Rene. He falls motionless, his face to the ground, pronouncing the holy name of Jesus. At the blow, I turn round and see a hatchet all bloody; I kneel down, to receive the blow which was to unite me with my dear companion; but, as they hesitate, I rise again, and run to the dying man, who was quite near. They dealt him two other blows with the hatchet, on the head, and dispatched him. It was September, the feast of st. Michael. They ordered me to return to my cabin, where I awaited, the rest of the day and the next day, the same treatment.

The next morning, I went out to inquire where they had thrown that Blessed body, for I wished to bury it, at whatever cost. Certain Iroquois, who had some desire to preserve me, said to me: "You have no sense! You see that they seek you everywhere to kill you, and you still go out. You wish to go and seek a body already half destroyed, which they have dragged far from here. Do you not see those young men going out, who will kill you when you will be outside the stockade?"

That did not stop me, and Our Lord gave me courage enough to wish to die in this act of charity. I go, I seek; and with the aid of an Algonquin, -- formerly captured, and now a true Iroquois, -- I find him. The children, after he had been killed, had stripped him, and had dragged him, with a rope about his neck, into a torrent which passes at the foot of their Village. The dogs had already eaten a part of his loins. I could not keep back my tears at this sight; I took the body, and, by the aid of that Algonquin, I put it beneath the water, weighted with large stones, to the end that it might not be seen. It was my intention to come the next day with a pickaxe, when no one should be there, to make a grave and place the body there. I thought that the corpse was well concealed; but perhaps some who saw us, -- especially of the youths, -- withdrew it.

The next day, as they were seeking me to kill me, my aunt sent me to her field, -- to escape, as I think; this caused me to delay until the next day, a day on which it rained all night, so that the torrent swelled uncommonly. I borrowed a pickaxe from another cabin, the better to conceal my plan; but, when I draw near the place, I no longer find that Blessed deposit. I go into the water, which was already cold; I go and come, -- I sound with my foot, to see whether the water has not raised and carried away the body; I find nothing. A woman of my acquaintance, who passed there and saw me in pain, told me, when I asked her whether she knew what they had done with him, that they had dragged him to the river, which was a half mile from there, and which I was not acquainted with. That was false: the young men had taken away the body, and dragged it into a little wood nearby, -- where, during the autumn and winter, the Dogs, Ravens, and Foxes fed upon it. In the Spring, when they told me that it was there that they had dragged him, I went there several times without finding anything. At last, the 4th time, I found the head and some half-gnawed bones, which I buried with the plan of carrying them away, if I should be taken back to 3 Rivers, as they spoke of doing.

He was killed by the enemies of God because of prayer. He was in a Cabin where he nearly always said the prayers, -- which little pleased a superstitious old man who was there. One day, seeing a little child of 3 or 4 years in the cabin, he took off his cap, put it on this child's head, and made a great sign of the cross upon its body. The old man, seeing that, commanded a young man of his cabin, who was about to leave for the war, to kill him, -- which order he executed.

Even the child's mother, on a journey in which I was with her, told me that it was because of this sign of the Cross that he had been killed; and the old man who had given the command that he should be slain, -- one day when they called me to his cabin to eat, when I made the sign of the Cross, -- said to me: "That is what we hate; that is why they have killed your companion, and why they will kill you. Our neighbors the Europeans do not do so." Sometimes, also, when I was praying on my knees during the hunt, they told me that they hated this way of acting, and on account of it, they had killed the other Frenchman; and that, for this reason, they would kill me when I came back to the Village.

FROM QUEBEC, 28TH OF OCTOBER, 1646. JEROME LALEMANT. WHAT OCCURRED BETWEEN THE FRENCH, THE HURONS, AND THE ALGONQUINS, FOR THE CONCLUSION OF THE PEACE WITH THE IROQUOIS.

Under the name of "Iroquois" we have included several confederated Nations, all enemies of the Indians who are Allied to us. These Nations have their separate names -- the Mohawks, the Cayugas, the Onondagas, the Senecas, and others. We have no peace, in a proper sense, except with the Mohawks, who are nearest our settlements, and who were giving us the most trouble. From now on, we will distinguish these tribes by their proper names, so as to avoid confusion.

Besides the Iroquois, there are other Nations, more to the North, who seem disposed to undertake war with our Indians, -- as the Sokoki Abenakis, whom our Indians call Assokwekik; and the Mahicans, or Mahinganak, with whom the Algonquins formerly had extensive alliances, -- but, the Mohawk Iroquois having subdued them, they have ranged themselves upon their side. There are others, as the Abenakis, who are friends to us.

Last year, at the departure of the fleet, when we were tasting the sweetness of the incipient peace, news was brought to us that three Indians of the village of St. Joseph, or Sillery, had been killed, and some others severely wounded. This report tempered our joy with worm-wood, in the doubt in case the Mohawks had acted in bad faith with us. Finally, after all possible investigation, we found that one of the most fervent Christians of Sillery, or of saint Joseph, had been treacherously slain, with two baptized young lads; that the son of Francois Xavier Nenaskoumat -- one of the two chief pillars of the Indian reduction -- had been mortally wounded. Indeed, this man came to give up the ghost piously in our arms, after having received in the Hospital at Quebec all the charitable attentions with which a poor sick man can be assisted. In that treacherous attack, his wife was left for dead; they removed a part of the skin and the hair from her head, but Our Lord restored her health.

It was a consolation to us that these last two did not die on the spot; for they assured us that the language of the murderers was altogether different from the language of the Iroquois; that stopped the hatchets of the Algonquins, who would not have failed to beat to death some Mohawks who happened to be among them and among us. At last it was discovered that this murder had been committed by the Sokoki Abenakis, two of whose tribe had been killed by some Innu warriors; and another had been badly treated by the Algonquins, but ransomed and sent back to his own country by our Governor.

The Mohawk Iroquois have hunted on the borders of the Algonquins, and the Algonquins have seen and received them with friendliness, and have guided them to our settlements; there is no place in all these areas where from time to time some Mohawks have not been seen. Those who know the antipathy between these peoples and their frightful proneness to vengeance, regard it as a miracle whenever they see a friendly understanding between an Algonquin and an Iroquois.

It was written last year, how the Mohawk Ambassadors, having negotiated with the French for a universal peace, had withdrawn to their own country to report the word and the voice of' Onontio, -- that is, the opinions of Sir, our Governor. The Frenchman who had long been a captive in their country, accompanied them, with orders to be present in all their assemblies; here follows what he has observed there.

Having left the French, they were eighteen days on the way; and three days after their arrival in the country, the principal persons having assembled from various places, behaved in this manner:

Before those Ambassadors spoke, they were given a present, to soften the tones of their voices, so that the words of Onontio, which they had received by their ears, might issue without difficulty and without roughness from their lips. This gift made, the Frenchman, who has knowledge of their language, and those Ambassadors, displayed the presents with which they were assigned, and then spoke to the satisfaction of all the people. Their speeches finished, the Captains also made other presents, to be conveyed to Onontio and to his confederates.

The first served as a bath in which those Ambassadors, fatigued from the journey, might refresh themselves; or as an ointment which would cure the wounds that the stones, the briars, and the thickets, encountered in so long a journey, might have caused to their feet.

The second proclaimed that their war hatchet -- according to the desire of Onontio, suspended in the air without finishing its blow until the answer of the Hurons and of the Algonquins -- had lost its use; and that it had been thrown so far that not a man in the world could ever find it again, -- that is, that the Hurons and the Algonquins, having entered into peace, the Mohawks had no more arms except for hunting.

The fourth was a public token of the gratitude of all the villages of the Mohawks, that Onontio had leveled the earth and united the hearts.

The fifth was an act of thanks to the same Onontio, whom they recognized as the common father of all those Nations, -- giving him a thousand praises for having restored sense to the Algonquins, which no other had been able to do before him.

The sixth was a request, which they submitted to him, that he should cause fires to be kindled in all the settlements of his government, so that all the Nations coming there to warm themselves in safety, may listen to his voice and enjoy his friendship; and in case there occurs some difference, that he be the umpire of the Iroquois, the Hurons, and the Algonquins.

These presents made, there was mention only of feasts, of dances, and of public rejoicings. They spent ten days in these balls and feasts, and then they sent away the Frenchman with seven Ambassadors to convey those gifts, and to rejoice with the French and with their allies over the conclusion of peace.

These Ambassadors having reached, by land, the lake where they must embark, did not find their canoes or their boats of bark; some disaffected person or some thief had broken these, or carried them away; such that they were compelled to retrace their steps, to provide for their journey. This return was an act of Heaven, which showed us the sincerity of the Mohawk Iroquois; for, at the same time when the Frenchman entered their principal village, some Sokoki Abenaki Ambassadors arrived to break the peace between the Mohawks and the Algonquins.

Audience being given them, the spokesman said: "For a long time, I have heard you say that the Algonquins were your irreconcilable enemies, and that you hated them even beyond the grave, -- so that, if you could meet them in the other life, your war would be eternal. As we are your allies, we enter into your passions and into your interests. See the heads of some whom we have massacred, and a cord which we present to you for the sake of binding with us as many of them as we possibly can." Then they present the scalps of the Christians of St. Joseph, -- killed last Autumn -- and a great necklace of wampum, which was to serve as irons to put them in chains.

The Iroquois answered, with indignation: "We are astonished at your boldness, or rather at your audacity; you cast shame on our faces; you make us pass for knaves. Onontio, with whom we have treated peace, is not a child; if we looked at you with favor, he would have reason to say, 'The Mohawks have not killed my allies, but it was done by their hatchets. I thought to deal with true men, and I have negotiated with deceivers and with knaves.' This is not all; the Algonquins, learning that the heads of their brothers are in our cabins, will cut off those of our fellow countrymen who are in their country, -- such would be the evil results of your audacity. Begone; hide these heads, take away these bonds; as we have but one heart, we desire but one tongue."

If there is deceit in this act, it is more than subtle; and it seems that reason invites these peoples to embrace the peace. God has given them a feeling that the demon of war, which had always favored them, was about to leave them; the resolution of some Algonquins and Hurons -- who, having bravely fought toward the last, had taken some Iroquois captive -- confirmed this idea. In the second place, as they are hunters, and as most of the animals are on the marches of the Algonquins, they have a great desire to shoot these at their ease and without fear. Indeed, they have not restricted themselves in this; for they have killed more than two thousand deer this winter.

Thirdly, the Mohawk prisoner whom the Hurons had taken near Richelieu, and whom they had led away to their own country, having returned to his native land, has spoken highly of the French; he has told his countrymen that if Onontio lends a hand to the Hurons, the misfortune will fall on their own heads.

THE COMING OF SEVEN IROQUOIS AMBASSADORS TO THE FRENCH, AND OF THEIR NEGOTIATIONS.

ON the 22nd of February in this current year, 1646, seven Mohawk Iroquois and two Hurons, accompanied by the Frenchman whom I mentioned above, appeared at Montreal; after having rejoiced that settlement, they come down to the Three Rivers, from where advice is sent to our Governor of their coming.

As this journey had been made over the snows, and as the cold was still causing the ice to accumulate upon our great river, the Mohawks went away hunting, -- some on this side, some beyond, -- while waiting for May, when the Governor went up to that settlement.

On the seventh of that month, he gave them audience; here follows what occurred in that assembly. The most considerable person, raising his voice, chanted a song of thanksgiving.

"We were dead," said he, "and see us alive; we were bringing our own heads to be sacrificed to the shades of the Algonquins or of the Innu who were massacred last Autumn, -- surely anticipating that we should be held guilty of that murder; but Onontio, staying the wrath of the Algonquins, has made our innocence manifest." Then they draw forth a gift, and cast it at the feet of the relatives and allies of the departed, -- saying that it was to cleanse the place, all bloody, from a murder committed by treachery; and. protesting that they had had no knowledge of it until after the act was done, and that all the Captains of the country had condemned this, outrage.

It is the custom of the peoples of these countries, when some person of consideration among them is, dead, to dry the tears of his relatives by some present. This Captain having learned, on his arrival, of the death -- no less glorious than sad -- of Father Anne de Noue of our Jesuits, wished to observe the law of his country. He lifted his eyes to Heaven, as if complaining of its severity; then, turning toward the black robes, he, threw down some wampum bracelets. "That," said he, "is to warm again the place where, the cold has caused this good Father to die; put this little gift in your bosom, to divert yourself from the thoughts which might sadden you."

They next offered the presents which had been confided to them in their own country, showing their joy to see themselves united and allied to the French, the Hurons, and the Algonquins, who are the three most considerable Nations with which they have negotiated peace, -- all the others being comprised under these three most important. They made some other presents to the Hurons, to give them warning to be on their guard in the roads, until the upper Iroquois -- the Onondagas, the Senecas, and some others -- should have their ears pierced, -- that is, open to the kindness of peace. They offered two yards of wampum to kindle a council fire at Three Rivers, and a great necklace of three thousand beads to serve as Wood, or fuel for this fire.

The Indians hold scarcely any assembly without the calumet (tobacco pipe) filled with tobacco in their mouths; and as fire is necessary to the use of tobacco, they nearly always kindle fires at all their assemblies, -- such that it is the same thing with them to light a council fire, or to keep a place suitable for assembling, or a house for visiting one another, as do relatives and friends.

Two days after this assembly, our Governor, prudently adapting himself to the practices among these peoples, sent for those deputies; he dealt with them according to their customs; the Hurons who were there, and the Algonquins, were present.

The Frenchman who understands the Iroquois language offered a gift on behalf of Onontio, to congratulate the Mohawk Iroquois, and in token of the esteem in which he held their nation for having kept its word.

He made another, to indicate the satisfaction that he received on seeing the earth leveled, and the hatchet lifted and removed from the heads of the Hurons and the Algonquins; for, as regards the French, their peace was made from the time of the first interview.

In the third place, he offered a necklace of a thousand wampum beads, for assurance that he would keep lighted that council fire which they had requested at Three Rivers, and that the fuel should not fail for it, -- that is, that they would always be welcome, and that a hearing would be given to the Captains who should come to negotiate affairs.

A fourth present was made, to tell them that Onontio desired to see the little Frenchman who alone had remained a prisoner in their country.

And a fifth, for causing the return of his daughter, named Therese, so that she might prepare Indian corn in their fashion, to feast them when they should wish to visit us. Mention has often been made, in the Reports, of this girl: she is a Huron, who, having been instructed at the Seminary of the Ursulines, was captured by the Iroquois, with her relatives, when her relatives were taking her back to her own country. The Ursuline Mothers -- not being able to endure that this poor little creature should remain in that captivity, have spared no pains, and have moved Heaven and earth to procure her liberty.

Tessouat, -- called by the Hurons and the Iroquois, Ondesson; and by the French, le Borgne [the One-eyed] of the Kichesipirini Algonquins, -- seeing that our Interpreter spoke no more, chanted a rather mournful song; then, lifting his eyes to Heaven, prayed the Sun to be a spectator and to serve as witness of all that occurred in this action, and with his light to make evident the sincerity of his heart and of his intentions. Again he chanted another song; and then, raising his voice, he spoke in the name of all the Algonquins, whose words he conveyed.

The first word was a protestation that a breach of the peace would not proceed from his side; and in token of this truth, he presented two robes of Elk skins, -- adding that he had some distrust of the Mohawks, which he wished to banish by this gift.

The second gift was also of two robes, on which those Ambassadors were to repose themselves, to be refreshed from the toil of their journey.

The third gift conveyed a humble prayer to Onontio, that he should not walk all alone in safety within the roads which he had leveled and broken; but that this happiness should also be common to the Algonquins and to the Hurons. This man, utterly distrustful and suspicious, was afraid that the French might make their peace in private, without troubling themselves about the Indians, their allies.

The fourth gift gave assurance that the Algonquins had also laid down their arms, and thrown their hatchets into a land unknown to all men.

The fifth gift requested that no false alarms be given; that hunting be everywhere free; that the landmarks and the boundaries of all those great countries be raised; and that each one should find himself everywhere in his own country.

The sixth gift assured the Mohawks that they could freely come to warm themselves at the fire which Onontio had kindled for them at Three Rivers; that the Algonquins and the Iroquois would smoke there with pleasure, and that their pipes or their calumets (tobacco pipes) would not burn, -- that is, that fear would cause no one to tremble there. All these gifts were each composed of two Elk robes, handsomely painted and well trimmed in their fashion.

The last gift included twelve of these beautiful robes, four for each of the three villages of the Mohawks, asking those tribes to give liberty to the children of the Algonquins, or even to the adult persons who should still be in their country; with assurances that the fat would not be spared for the stomachs of those who should lead them back, and that they would find ointments with which to anoint their heads, -- he meant that they would be given good cheer, and that their trouble would be amply rewarded.

These gifts accepted, Kiotsaeton, principal Ambassador of the Mohawks, addressing the Hurons, gave them a present of thanksgiving because they had done no harm to the Mohawk prisoners whom they had taken the year before. He told them that they would have done well to distribute those prisoners among the other Iroquois nations, their allies; that they would have compelled them, by this, to engage in a universal peace; that, in course of time, they might obtain this good fortune, but that they should still beware of them upon their journeys.

He gave them a second present, to invite them to prepare a feast for the Mohawks, who would go to visit them in their country.

On the thirteenth of the same month of May, our Governor entertained these Deputies in the cabin of an Algonquin Captain. Two speeches were conveyed to them by two gifts; the first was only an expression of thanks because they had not been willing to accept the heads or the scalps of his allies from the Sokoki Abenakis. The second gift indicated to them that he had decided to send two Frenchmen into their country, and that they would probably start in three days. This made the Algonquins resolve to give them two of their nation, to be of the group.

THE BLESSED DEATHS OF FATHER ANNE DE NOUE AND FATHER ENEMOND MASSE.

SINCE we have mentioned the death of Father de Noue, we will here speak of it more lengthily; and at the same time, of that of Father Masse, which occurred in this same year.

On the 30th of January in this present year, 1646, Father Anne de Noue left the residence at Three Rivers, in the company of two soldiers and one Huron, to go away to Richelieu, 30 miles away from Three Rivers, to administer the Sacraments of Penance and the Eucharist to the French who are there. All the rivers and all the lakes were but one expanse of ice, and the earth was everywhere covered with three or four feet of snow, as is usual during the winter. This good Father and his companions, walking on snowshoes to not sink into the snows, made only 15 miles the first day, and even that with much difficulty: for although the snowshoes are a relief, they are still somewhat of a hindrance to those who have no great experience with them.

They built for themselves a little house in the snow, sheltered by the trees and covered with the Sky, in which to spend the night. The Father -- having remarked that the two soldiers who accompanied him had, on account of being new in the country, much difficulty in walking with restricted feet, and, in addition to that, dragging after them all their baggage -- rose about two hours after midnight, to gain the start and give notice to the soldiers at Richelieu to come and aid their comrades. This charity took away his life. He left his companions, and directed them to follow his trail, assuring them that relief would soon come to them; he took neither his steel for striking fire, nor his covering, nor other provisions than a little bread and. five or six prunes, which were still found upon him after his death. It is necessary, in this country, to carry one's inns with one, -- that is, one's bed and provisions; as for the house, one finds it wherever one encounters the night.

While this man of fire was walking on the ice of Lake saint Pierre, which lies between Three Rivers and Richelieu, having for guide only his good Angel and the brightness of the Moon, the Sky became overcast, and the clouds, depriving him of his torch, were changed into snow. But this was so abundant that the shades of night, always frightful, were doubly so, -- one saw neither the shores of the Lake, nor the Islands with which it is in some places studded. The poor Father, having no compass or quadrant to guide him, lost his way; he walked much and advanced little. The soldiers whom he had left, on rising to proceed on their journey, were astonished when they saw not the tracks or the footprints of the Father; the newly-fallen snow had concealed these. Not knowing which route to take, one of them who had been only once at Richelieu, draws forth a quadrant, and guides himself nearly by the rhumb or line of wind along which he believed it fixed. They journey the whole day, without assistance reaching them; finally, worn out with toil, they spend the night on the Island of St. Ignace, not far from the place where the Father was, -- but they knew nothing of that. The Huron, better qualified for these fatigues than the French, getting his bearings, reaches Richelieu; he asks if the Father has not arrived. They say "No; "he is astonished, -- and the Captain of that place still more so, on learning that he had started so early to make only 15 miles. As it was now night, they wait, until the next morning, to send to meet him. The soldiers of the garrison run: they seek him on the South shore, and he was on the North shore; they shout, they call, they fire musket shots, but in vain, -- the poor Father was far from there. As for the two soldiers whom they were expecting, the Huron having described the place where they were, they were soon found and led to the fort. All that day was spent in running here and there, in shouting, and in seeking, but finding nothing.

Finally, on the 2nd day of February, a clever soldier takes two Hurons, out of four who happened to be then in that settlement; he goes in search of the shelter where the Father and his companions had spent their first night. Having found it, these Hurons, well trained in distinguishing trails hidden beneath the snow, follow the poor Father's tracks, observing the turns and windings that he had made, and find the place where he had spent the second night after his departure. This was a cavity in the snow, at the bottom of which he had put some branches of fir, upon which he had taken his rest, -- without fire, without a house, without covering: having only a single cassock and an old jacket. As this place is not much frequented by the French, the Father could not ascertain where he was. From there he crossed the river, in front of the settlement at Richelieu, which he did not see, -- either because it snowed hard, or because toil and the snows had weakened his sight. The soldier, continually following the trail which the Hurons uncovered, saw at the Cape called "massacre," 2 miles above Richelieu, a place where this good Father had rested; and 7 miles higher, facing flat Island and the mainland, between two little brooks, they found his body on its knees, quite stiff and frozen upon the ground which he had laid bare, having cleared away the snow in a ring or circle; his hat and his snowshoes were near him; he was leaning over the edge of the heaped-up snow. It is probable that, having expired on his knees, the weight of his body had caused him to lean upon this wall of snow; he had his eyes open, -- looking toward Heaven, the place of his dwelling, -- and his arms crossed on his breast.

The soldier, seeing him in that posture, touched with a devout respect, falls on his knees, makes his prayer to God, and honors this sacred trust. He notches a cross on the nearest tree; wraps the body, all stiff and frozen, in a blanket which he had brought; puts it on a sledge; and conveys it to Richelieu, and from there to Three Rivers. He believes that he gave up his soul on the day of the Purification of the Virgin, for whom he had a most special devotion. He fasted every Saturday in her honor, recited every day a brief office to honor her Immaculate Conception, and spoke of her only in wholly affectionate terms. It is credible that this great and most faithful Mistress obtained for him that death, -- so purifying, so saintly, and so removed from all earthly helps, -- to receive him on a higher plane in Heaven.

The soldiers of Richelieu and the people of Three Rivers did not know whether they should give their hearts to the admiration of so happy a death, or to sorrow at seeing themselves deprived of a man who was all for others and nothing for himself. He was buried with the attendance of all the French and all the Indians who were at Three Rivers.

This good Father was the son of a worthy Gentleman, Lord of Villers en Priere, -- or rather, en Prairie, -- which is a Castle and a village, or a market town, distant 15 or 17 miles from the city of Rheims in Champagne. In his youth he was made a Page, and, finding himself at Court, he was solicited by courtesans on account of his beauty; but his good Mistress kept him chaste for thirty years in the world, and thirty-three years in Religion. He was harsh and severe toward himself, but full of affection for others; things the lowest and most vile were great and lofty to him; and all that there is in splendor seemed to him filled with darkness.

He toiled sixteen years in the Mission of New France, always with courage, always with fervor, and always in deep humility. When he saw that his memory did not allow him to learn languages, he gave and dedicated himself entirely to the service of the poor Indians and of those who instructed them, -- lowering himself, with an enthusiasm unparalleled, to the hardest and most humiliating offices. Our French and our Fathers having been, at a certain time, in great necessity for provisions, he went to seek roots in the woods; and he learned to fish so well that he relieved a whole house by his toil.

He was extremely sensitive in regard to obedience. Whatever urgency he had in the affairs at hand, whatever difficulty presented itself to his sight, he was ready to leave everything or to embrace everything at the voice of his Superior, without examining his own power or his own skill, -- desiring that only the will of God should give the impulse to his actions, and rejecting that indefinable prudence which, by force of opening the eyes to arguments too human, closes them to the beauty of obedience. Accordingly, if he offended this virtue, one saw in him, at the age of sixty years, the tears of a young child who had in some manner displeased his father.

Someone, seeing him begin to grow infirm, proposed to him to return to France, so he could there spend his old age more comfortably. "I know," he answered, "that the Mission is burdened, and that I hold the place of a good workman. I am ready to relieve it, and to obey in everything; but I would be glad to die in the field of battle. It is not that I do not approve the charity of those who, seeing themselves infirm, or too old to learn to speak the Indian tongue, make place for some good Gospel laborer; but, as for myself, I feel this inclination, to employ my life here in the service of the poor Indians and of those who are converting them, and in the aid that I can render to the French." This blessing was granted to him; the desire to suffer has made a victim of his body; obedience has slain him, and charity has made of him a sacrifice which it has burned and consumed in the honor of his God.

As for Father Enemond Masse, he was a native of the city of Lion, and entered our Jesuits at the age of twenty years. He toiled there fifty-two years, at the end of which time he died, on the twelfth of May in this present year, at the residence of St. Joseph, aged 72 years. He lived in a great variety of times, and in different occupations. Having entered our Jesuits, he was appointed companion to Reverend Father Pierre Coton, Confessor and Preacher to the King, Henry the Great. His fervor for converting the Indians caused him to prefer their great forests to the air of the Court; he urged with so much love that finally he was sent to Acadia, with Father Pierre Biart. They embarked at Dieppe in 1611, and were the first two, of all the Religious Orders, to enter that part of America which bears the name of New France. It is incredible how much these two poor Fathers suffered in this new world. Acorns were, for several months, their food: those who were bound to protect them covered them with insults; they were imprisoned and slandered by those persons to whom they were rendering all the duties of love and charity.

One of the principal among those who treated them ill, dying afterward without the assistance of any priest, said that he was paying severely for the torments that he had caused these poor Fathers to suffer.

Having removed from that settlement, an English pirate seized them, and, after plundering them, took them aboard his vessel. This ship, being compelled to enter a Catholic port, was taken for a sea-rover; the Officers of marine boarded and inspected her. A single word of those two prisoners would have caused the capture of the vessel, and the hanging of all the sailors; but not only did they not speak, but they concealed themselves so well that they were never perceived. When the visitors were on one side, the Fathers slipped to the other; the Heretics, seeing this action, exclaimed aloud that they would have committed a great crime in killing those two Innocent men, as they had thought of doing when the storm drove them into that port inhabited by Catholics.

On departing from there, those pirates withdrew to England, where they were accused of some robberies; but having experienced the magnanimity of their prisoners, they produced them as witnesses; the Fathers gave assurance that they had not seen the act committed with which their captors were charged. Finally, they crossed over to France in the plight of two poor beggars, all in rags.

Father Enemond Masse was sent back to Canada in 1625. He found there troubles in abundance; the vessels failing to come, famine attacked the French who were in this country. It was then that Father Enemond Masse and Father Anne de Noue, his companion, sought roots to preserve their lives; and that they made themselves, the one a Gardener and plow-man, and the other, Fisherman and Woodcutter, to be able to subsist in this end of the world.

The end of that trouble was the beginning of another; an Anglicized Frenchman, having taken Quebec, sent this poor Father back to France. What will he do? This poor Father, regarding himself as an exile in his native land, makes to God a promise that he will exert every effort to die on the Cross of New France. The Father gained what he asked, -- he returns to his land in 1633; he dies there in 1646, all laden with years in the midst of the Indians, to whose salvation he had consecrated his whole life and all his labors.

THE MISSION OF THE MARTYRS, BEGUN IN THE COUNTRY OF THE IROQUOIS.

WHEN I speak of a Mission among the Iroquois, it seems that I speak of a dream, and yet it is a truth. It is good that it bears the name of the Martyrs; for it has already been crimsoned with the blood of one Martyr; for the Frenchman who was slain at the feet of Father Isaac Jogues lost his life for having expressed the sign of the cross to some little Iroquois children, which so offended their parents that they -- imagining that there might be some spell in this action -- made of it at once a crime and a martyrdom.

our Governor, having decided to send two Frenchmen to the country of the Mohawks, -- to convey to them his word, and to show to them his satisfaction over the peace happily concluded, -- Father Isaac Jogues was presented to him, to be of the group. As he had already purchased an acquaintance with these peoples and their language, with a coin more precious than gold or silver, he was soon accepted; the Iroquois welcomed him, and he who had sustained the weight of war, was not for retreating in time of peace. He was glad to sound their friendship, after having experienced the rage of their hostility. He knew, however, of the inconstancy of these Indians; he saw the dangers into which he was throwing himself. The Governor thought proper to send Sir Bourdon, a settler in the country, -- who showed his fervor for the public welfare all the more that he forsook his own family, to throw himself into hazards which are never small among these Indians.

The Algonquins, seeing that a Father was embarking, gave him warning not to speak of the Faith at the first; "for there is nothing," said they, "so repulsive, at the beginning, as our doctrine, which seems to exterminate everything that men hold most dear; and, because your long robe preaches as well as your lips, it would be beneficial to walk in shorter apparel." This warning was listened to, and it was considered necessary to treat the sick as sick, and to behave among the impious as one does among the heretics.

They started on the 16th of May from Three Rivers; and on the 18th, the eve of Pentecost, they embarked at Richelieu on the river of the Iroquois (Richelieu River). They were guided by four Mohawk Iroquois; two young Algonquins accompanied them, in their own separate canoe, laden with the gifts which they were going to make for the confirmation of the peace.

They arrived, on the eve of the Blessed Sacrament, at the end of the lake which is joined to the great lake of Champlain. The Iroquois name it Andiatarocte (Lake George), as if one should say, "there where the lake is shut in." They left it, the day of that great Feast, continuing their way by land with great fatigues, for they had to carry on their backs their bundles and their baggage; the Algonquins were obliged to leave a great part of theirs on the shore of the lake. 15 miles from this lake, they crossed a small river which the Iroquois call Oiogue; the Dutch, who are located along it, but lower down, name it the River van Maurice.

On the first day of June, their guides, overcome by their burdens, turned aside from the road which leads to their villages, to pass by a certain place called in their language Ossarague; this spot is remarkable as abounding in a small fish, the size of the herring. They were hoping to find some assistance there; and they were loaned some canoes to carry their baggage as far as the first settlement of the Dutch, distant from this fishery about 45 or 50 miles.

On the 4th of June, they landed at the first settlement of the Dutch (Albany), where they were very well received by the Captain of Fort Orange; they departed from there on the sixteenth of the same month, accompanied and assisted by the Iroquois who happened to be there. The next day, at evening, they arrived at their first small village, called Oneugioure, formerly Osserrion. There it was necessary to stay two days, to be gazed at and welcomed by those peoples, who came from all parts to see them; those who had formerly ill-used the Father no longer showed any inclination to do so; and those whom natural compassion had touched at the sight of his torments, were evidently delighted to see him in another position and employed in an important office.

On the 10th of June, the feast of the holy Trinity, he gave this Most holy name to that village. There was held a general assembly of all the principal Captains and elders of the country; there were exhibited the gifts which Sir Bourdon brought with the Father; there were also present the two Algonquins who accompanied them.

Silence procured, the Father sets forth the word of Onontio and of all the French, shown by the gifts. He indicates the joy that was caused by the sight of the Ambassadors, and the satisfaction of all the people at the conclusion of the peace between the French, the Iroquois, the Hurons, and the Algonquins. He assures them that the council fire is lighted at Three Rivers; he presents a necklace of 5000 wampum beads, to break the bonds of the little Frenchman captive in their country, and the like for the deliverance of Therese; he thanks them for having refused the heads of the Innu or of the Algonquins massacred by the Sokoki Abenakis. He made a special present of 3000 wampum beads to one of the great families of the Mohawk scattered through their three villages, to keep a fire always lighted when the French should come to visit them.

His speech was favorably heard, and his gifts very well received. He spoke next for the Algonquins, who were not acquainted with the Iroquois language, and who were somewhat ashamed at the lack of a great part of their presents; for, of 24 robes of Elk skins, they had left 14 on the way. The Father excused them by reason of the injury received by one of those two young men, through the weight of his burden, and the difficulty of the roads. He gave the sense of all these speeches, and to specify all these gifts, such that the assembly was satisfied, -- to the extent that afterward the Iroquois responded with two gifts which they made to the Algonquins; and they sent two others for the Hurons.

As for what concerned Onontio and the French, -- as a favor to whom they had made peace with their allies, -- they answered with great affection. At the request of the little Frenchman, they drew forth a necklace of 2000 beads. "There," said they, "is the bond which held him captive; take the prisoner and his chain, and do with them according to the will of Onontio."

As for Therese, whom they had given in marriage after her captivity, they answered that she would be restored as soon as she should return to their country; and in token of the truth of their word, they offered a necklace of 1500 wampum beads. The family of which we have spoken -- which is named "the Wolf family" -- assured the French, by a beautiful gift of 30 feet of wampum, that they should always have a secure dwelling among them, and that the Father would always find his little mat ready to receive him, and a fire lighted to warm him.

But some distrustful minds did not look with favor on a little chest, which the Father had left as an assurance of his return; they imagined that some misfortune disastrous to the whole country was shut up in that little box. The Father, to undeceive them, opened it, and showed them that it contained no other mystery than some small necessaries for which he might have use.

The Father, having noticed in the assembly some Iroquois from the country of the Onondagas, made them in public a gift of 2000 wampum beads, to make them understand the plan which the French had in going to see them in their country; and told them that he made them this gift in advance, so that they would not be surprised at seeing the faces of the French. He said that the French had three roads by which to go to visit them, -- one through the Mohawks; another, by the great Lake which they name Ontario, or Lake of St. Louys; the third, through the land of the Hurons. Some of the elders showed surprise at this proposition. "It is necessary," they said, "to take the road which Onontio has opened; the others are too dangerous; one meets in them only people of war, men with painted and figured faces, with clubs and war hatchets, who seek only to kill," -- adding that the way which leads into their country was now excellent, entirely cleared, and secure. But the Father followed up his point, not considering it beneficial to depend on the Mohawks, to go up into the Nations above. He put his gift in the hands of the Iroquois, who promised, in presence of the Onondagas, to go and present it to the Captains and elders of their country. Thus ended the public affairs.

After all these assemblies, the Mohawks urged the departure of the French, -- saying that a band of Iroquois from above had started to await, at the passage, the Hurons who were to come down to the French; and that those warriors would move from there to Montreal, to come and cross before Richelieu, and go back to their own country by the river of the Iroquois (Richelieu River). "We do not believe," said they, "that they will do you any harm when they meet you; but we fear for the two Algonquins who are with you."

The Father then told them that he was astonished to see how they permitted those upper Iroquois to come down into their district, and proceed to make war within their limits, descending the rapids and waterfalls which were of the jurisdiction and within the marches of the Mohawks. "We have given them warning of this," they answered. "What then?" said the Father, "do they despise your commands? Do you not see that all the lawless acts that they may commit will be accused of you?" They opened their eyes at this argument, and promised to apply an effective remedy.

In conclusion, the Father, our French, and their guides left the village of the holy Trinity on the 16th of June. They journeyed for several days by land, with difficulty, for it is necessary to carry one's own provisions and baggage; the brooks are the inns that one meets. Having arrived on the shore of Lake George, they made canoes or little boats of bark; having embarked in these, they made their way by paddling, until the 27th of the same month of June, when they landed at the first settlement of the French, situated where the river of the Iroquois (Richelieu River) empties into the great flood of Saint Lawrence. Such is the beginning of a Mission which must furnish an opening to many others among well-populated Nations.

Father Isaac Jogues, entirely attentive and devoted to this Mission, after having rendered account of his commission, thought of nothing but undertaking a second voyage to return there and especially before the winter; for he could not endure to be so long absent. At last, he found the opportunity for it, toward the end of September; and he started from Three Rivers on the 24th of that month, together with a young Frenchman, and some Iroquois and other Indians. We have learned that he was abandoned on the way by most of his companions, but that he continued his voyage. He goes intending to spend the winter there, and to influence the minds of the Indians.

THE RESIDENCE OF SAINT JOSEPH AT SILLERY.

Superstitions and the Sorcerers are banished from this Residence; there now remains hardly anyone to be baptized of those who usually retreat there. Their march has carried the Faith into various places, and their good example has gained many Indians. Those Indians of Tadoussac, who mocked the Christians at the start, were finally touched by their patience, -- such that they came to ask at Quebec that some Fathers be sent to them to instruct them. That was granted them in 1641; since that time, we have always continued to visit them.

The Atikamekw, who live North of Three Rivers, have received the Faith from the Christians of St. Joseph. One of the Captains of this residence derived his origin from that nation; the visits which they have made on both sides have given them a new alliance.

The Abenakis, whom we have between the East and the South, have made such an alliance with our Neophytes that some among them, having been baptized, now dwell at St. Joseph. Father Gabriel Druillettes, who has already lived among the Algonquins in their extensive rovings, has gone to spend the most trying season of the year with those Abenakis.

The Kichesipirini Algonquins have had much opportunity to profit by the good example of these first Christians, -- accordingly, some of them have followed their trail; but a part of these wretches are, in a sense, unprincipled.

The Hurons, still more distant, coming down toward the French, have admired the Faith of these good souls; and some have been influenced, even to the wish to imitate them.

A Captain of their nation who has spent the winter at Quebec, said this Spring, at Montreal, that the Christians of St. Joseph were the true believers. In fact, this is the name which all the other Indians give them; and if anyone among those would show his fervor, he says: "I will go to dwell among the believers," -- that is, "among the Christians of St. Joseph."

The poverty of the Indians is so great, and their provisions are so wretched, except on some days when they kill animals in abundance, -- and, even then, they eat the meat of these without bread, without salt, and without other sauce than the appetite, -- that it has not been believed necessary to speak to them of fasts, or of abstinence from meat. However, they sometimes become so devout that they will spend whole days without eating anything at all, rather than to eat meat which is worse than the poorest bread in the world, -- so dry and hard it is, after being dried by smoke.

It is useless to forbid the trade in wine and brandy with the Indians; there is always found some base soul who, to gain a little Beaver fur, introduces by Moonlight some bottles into their cabins. The Captains complain and storm, but it is difficult to banish altogether this illegal practice. As the Indian Captains have no regular Justice, or any authority to punish the failings of their people, -- we are compelled to serve them as fathers and Judges, preventing disorders by certain punishments which they accept willingly. But the irregularities which the ships usually cause by their liquors, cause us to abandon this charity, and to refer to the Justice of the country the punishment of the too frequent cases of drunkenness, while they are anchored in our ports.

One of the strangest passions of the Indians is vengeance against their enemies; it was not possible, at the beginning, to persuade them that it was well done to pray for these enemies, -- they were scandalized at that. "You do not love us," they said to the Father who was giving them this counsel; "that prayer is of no use; what good can come to us, if God aid our enemies?"

A man -- treacherously murdered, without ever having committed any act of hostility -- not only forgave his murderers, but often prayed God to bless them. His wife showed an admirable charity and constancy in attending her poor husband. She had received a blow from a hatchet, at the hands of those traitors; they had removed a part of her scalp, with her hair, -- they had left her for dead; but, her wounds not being mortal, as soon as she could drag herself along, she caused astonishment in all those who know the character of the Indians. As soon as a husband is in a condition where he can no longer recover his health, his wife abandons him, leaving him in the hands of his relatives, if he has any; if he has none, she hurries his days, to deliver him, and herself also, from the trouble which a severe illness causes; the husband does the like to his wife, in similar case. This barbarism no longer exists among those who receive and preserve the Faith. This wife, strong and faithful, nursed her husband every day, enduring the stench of his wounds, from which she continually wiped away the pus.

THE RESIDENCE OF LA CONCEPTION AT THREE RIVERS.

Three Rivers is the landing-place of all the Peoples of these regions, good and bad: one sees there from time to time Indians of all the nations which navigate the great river of saint Lawrence, from its mouth even to the Hurons, and beyond; this length makes perhaps 1000 miles and more. This gathering of so many tribes, so different, causes great confusion; and though only the Christians are cherished by the French, one is compelled to tolerate the others.

All the assemblies which have been convened with the Iroquois have been held at Three Rivers; two or three notorious Apostates have retreated there; all the rogues from other places have come to that place to spend a part of their time; and all those who are curious to learn the news land there; all this is only an ebb and flow, which hinders the Faith from taking root. The Christians, however, have shown their faith and their constancy, despite the bad examples which they have before their eyes, and which sometimes cause the weak to stumble.

To return to our speech; the Christians, seeing themselves surrounded with so many difficulties, took resolution to form a separate band in their great hunt during the winter, and in the other journeys which they should make for their trade. On returning from their hunt, they camped as near as they could to our Chapel; the Pagans took offense at this, casting at them a thousand taunts because they had not desired to join them. It is the custom among these peoples that the girls, when sick with their usual illness, separate themselves from the others, as did the Jewish women. The Infidels, seeing our Neophytes united together, said to them, jeering, that they were acting in the manner of the women, to lodge apart. They suffered these mockeries patiently, feeling compassion for their blindness. "What can we learn from you others," answered a Christian, "except slanders and jeers? Be not astonished if we place ourselves apart."

The little Church of Three Rivers sees, amid this ebb and flow of the Indians who approach it, a nation altogether simple and candid, and far from arrogance: these people come from an inland region; they spend their lives in the innocence of hunting and fishing, seeing the French only once or twice in the year, to buy some necessaries in exchange for their pelts. They derive their name from the word Atikamekw, which means a kind of fish that we call "the white fish," because it is all shining and all white.

They carry with them a list or calendar of Feasts and of Sundays, and of all the days of the week; and not one of them has erred this year in his estimating. Besides the evening and the morning prayers, they assemble every Sunday in a cabin to sing some spiritual Hymns, and to recite, all together, their rosaries. If there is among them a good speaker, he incites the rest to obey him who has made all, and to give up their former superstitions.

Two Canoes have arrived from another nation of which we have not yet heard mention; these are new faces, which appear for the first time among the French. As soon as they landed, they came to seek "the one who prays and who instructs," -- that is the name which the Strangers give to the Fathers, -- for the purpose, they said, of learning the way to Heaven. This desire has possessed them through having seen and heard some Indians who have communication with our Neophytes.

Of thirty-five Canoes which have come from those regions, we have baptized only 37 or 38 persons. One cannot believe how important it is to lay solid foundations for the Faith.

Among these Canoes, there have come some from a nation called Kapiminakwetiik, who have assured us that their neighbors had been visited by Indians who have never appeared in these regions, and who had never seen any of the wares which are brought into this new world. They relate many things concerning the multitude of the men of their nation, and of their customs; we shall learn news of them, in course of time.

THE HOLY CROSS MISSION AT TADOUSSAC.

WHAT we call Tadoussac is named by the Indians Sadilege; it is a place full of rocks, and very high. The great Saint Lawrence River makes in these rocks a bay or cove, which serves as a secure harbor for the ships which sail in these regions; we call this bay Tadoussac. Nature has rendered it convenient for the anchorage of vessels; she has formed it like a circle, and sheltered it from all the winds. There were estimated, formerly, on the shores of this port, three hundred warriors or effective hunters, who made with their families about twelve or fifteen hundred souls. This little people was proud; but God has humbled it by diseases which have almost entirely exterminated it.

The Tadoussac Innu have fallen this winter into an error; seeing themselves in their great forests, at a distance from their Father, and passionately desiring to hear Mass, one of them presented himself, to express its sacred ceremonies with all the devotion that an over-fervent mind can experience. This is not all; the desire for confession urging them, an aged woman, seeing that the men did not lend ear to them, presents herself to exercise that office. This indiscreet fervor was approved by some -- but only in behalf of persons of her own sex. From this indiscretion they passed to another: if anyone committed some fault, they made him come publicly to their assembly; and after having reproached him with his sin before all the people, they flogged him with a cruelty which still savored of its barbarism.

Their fasting covered two or three days without eating. Their indiscreet fervor passed from piety into external discipline; they begin to imagine that, to be good Christians, they ought to live altogether in the French fashion. They render the honors to their Captain which they see rendered to the Governor by the French; they make a cabin apart, in which to take their meals; they set up tables; they make the men eat together, and the women separately; and as they had remarked that the French did not eat all that was offered them, those who served at table did not give the leisure, especially to the women, to take a sufficient meal. No one, however, said a word; all these apish tricks passed for mysteries. The Indians and the French, in the matter of compliments, hold the two extremes: the Indians are boorish in the little respect which they bear for one another; and the French are annoying in the excess Of their ceremonies, and often deceptive in the too great demonstrations of their friendship. Rustic candor is preferable to a feigned courtesy; excess was never good, in whatever it be; if these good Neophytes adopt it, they will soon be weary of it.

The Father who has charge of this Mission, returning in the Spring to cultivate it, found a new people. He is welcomed with many bows and compliments; he finds no more painted faces, or hair anointed or greased according to their former custom; they come to receive him in the French fashion, with a grace and a politeness which was not the most accomplished, as it was but newly born; he finds that these disciples had learned three times as many things as he had taught them. Some good women say that they have confessed; others say that they have attended Mass. The poor Father, astonished, begins to accuse them of arrogance; he scolds their indiscretion, he makes them understand the seriousness of their crime, -- not that he did not plainly see that ignorance covered half of their faults, but to give them a safeguard for the future.

These simple people, quite astounded, bow their heads; they all go to the Chapel to ask pardon of God. He who had begun that innovation, starting to speak before all the others, exclaims: "The devil has led me astray, and I have deceived you." He spoke with so much fervor that there was no one in that assembly who was not touched; the tears flowed from their eyes; the sorrows of their hearts spoke a language agreeable to God, -- all asked to do penance for their sins. The Father, having caused them to understand the gravity of their offense, places a Cross in a space of the Church, as is done on good Friday, and commands them to go and make honorable amends to Jesus Christ, in his Image, -- to ask his pardon, and to protest solemnly that they will never again allow themselves to follow such innovations. He commands them also to fast, in the manner of the Church: and to transfer a great Cross, which they had set up near their cabins, to a place more eminent and proper, so as to go there every Friday to declare that they acknowledged Jesus Christ for their Savior and their Redeemer. All that was soon accomplished; but before everything else, they made confession with an admirable candor. Some carried little sticks to remember their sins; others marked them on the beads of their Rosaries; others wrote them, after their fashion, on small pieces of the bark of trees. The Cross which the Father had ordered them to transfer was probably about thirty or thirty-five feet long; the Captain wished to bear it himself on his shoulders.

It is incredible how full of wonder are the Indians who come from the other districts to Tadoussac; the peoples shut up in the cold of the North, hearing mention of this new belief, come in small bands, one after another. There were counted of these, this year, two hundred from a single nation, -- who, seeing that Indians preach the Faith, listen and present themselves and their children for Baptism. The Father has made about sixty of them Christians this year; they become instructed, they offer their prayers to God in the Chapel, -- which they admire, though there is nothing so poor. Their life is strange; they appear only in certain months of the year on the banks of the great river, and some remain there only a few days. For the rest of the time, they return to those great forests, to make war on the fish and the beasts.

The Father, when obliged to separate from these good Neophytes, left them five Books, or five Chapters of a Book, composed after their manner; these Books were no more than five sticks variously fashioned, in which they are to read what the Father has taught them.

The first is a black stick, which is to remind them of the horror that they must have for their innovations and their former superstitions.

The second is a white stick, which marks for them the devotions and the prayers which they shall say every day, and the manner of offering and presenting to God their minor actions.

The third is a red stick, on which is written what they are to do on Sundays and Feasts, -- how they are all to assemble in a great cabin, hold public prayers, sing spiritual Songs, and above all, listen to the one who shall keep these Books or these Sticks, and who will give the explanation of them to the whole assembly.

The fourth is the Book or the stick of punishment, therefore it is wound with little ropes. This Book prescribes the manner of correcting the delinquents with love and charity; to their fervor must be granted what is reasonable, and the excesses to which they are easily inclined must be cut off.

The fifth Book is a stick notched with various marks, which signifies how they are to behave in famine and in plenty, -- and the reliance which they must have on God.

These poor people, withdrawing into their forests, usually separate themselves into three bands; the Father has given to the chief of each squad these five Books, or these five Chapters, which contain all that they must do. It is an innocent pleasure to see these new Preachers hold these Books or these sticks in one hand, draw forth a stick with the other, and present it to their audience with these words: "See the stick or the Massinahigan," -- that is, "the book of the superstitions;" our Father has written it himself. He tells you that it is only the Priests who can say Mass and hear Confessions; that our drums, our sweatings, and our throbbings of the breast are inventions of the manitou or of the evil spirit, who wishes to deceive us;" and so of all those other Books of wood, which serve them as well as the most gilded volumes of a Royal Library.

THE SETTLEMENT OF VILLE-MARIE, IN THE ISLAND OF MONTREAL.

PEACE, union, and harmony have flourished this year in the Island of Montreal; confidence has prevailed among the French, and fear has, from time to time, troubled the Indians.

Just as under the name of Iroquois we include various peoples, -- the Mohawks, the Oneidas, the Onondagas, the Senecas, and some others, -- likewise, under the name and the language of the Algonquins we include many nations. Some of these are small, and others populous: the Weskarini, the Kichesipirini Algonquins or the Indians of the Island -- because they inhabit an Island which is encountered on the way to the Hurons, -- the Onontchataronons or the Iroquet Algonquins nation, the Nipissings, the Mataouchkarini Algonquins, the Sagahiganirini Algonquins, the Keinouche Ottawas, and several others. Since the peace made between the Mohawks and the French and their allies, there have been found at Montreal some persons from all these nations.

Tessouat, -- otherwise le Borgne [the One-eyed] of the Island, -- Tawichkaron, Captain of the Iroquet Algonquins, and Makatewanakisitch, Captain of the Mataouchkarini Algonquins, had decided to dwell there, to spend the winter there, and there to plant Indian corn in the Spring. The false reports that the Mohawks had made only a feigned peace, gave the alarm to the camp, and caused Tessouat and his troop to withdraw to Three Rivers. The Iroquet Algonquins, whose ancestors formerly inhabited the Island of Montreal, and who have some desire to recover it as their country, remained firm, and, after their example, the Mataouchkarini Algonquins.

These false reports were followed by another, better founded, which was likely to banish from Montreal all these poor Indians. The Mohawk Iroquois told them that the Oneidas and the Onondagas had not entered into the treaty of peace which the Mohawks had made with the Algonquins and the Hurons; and that they should hold themselves on their guard, because those tribes had set out to surprise the Hurons, and from there come to attack Montreal. Terror seized some of them, who fled like the others. Tessouat, who had withdrawn among the first, sends messengers, one after another, to urge those who remained to come down as soon as possible, -- that otherwise they are all dead; but hunting likely detained them. Indeed, it is excellent in these areas, because the game, during the war, was as in a neutral region, where the enemy scoured neither the open country nor the woods.

Those two squads, having taken resolution to remain, despite all the dangers with which they were threatened, have passed the winter without any harm, slain animals in abundance, and cultivated some lands in the Spring. That has not been done without dread and terror, -- for from time to time they mistook shadows for men, and phantoms for realities. Still, those tribes with which they were threatened were in arms. We have learned this Spring that they have nearly destroyed a village of Hurons; and that Tessouat, going back to his own country, lost one of those who accompanied him, in an ambush that they set for him.

Unless those tribes make peace, or unless the Mohawks prevent them from crossing through their lands, as they have been requested, they will give no rest to the Indians who shall withdraw to Montreal. Those Indians have shown that they were friends to the French; but if they came to seek Algonquins or Hurons, and found none of them, I would not like them to encounter Europeans when they had the advantage, -- for, when they come to war, they take no pleasure in returning empty-handed to their own country; they often make enemies for themselves, when they have none.

As this Island is a frontier of the Mohawk Iroquois, it has, nearly all the winter, some young men of those tribes who come through curiosity to see the French and the Algonquins. It was fortunate that Father Isaac Jogues was in this settlement, for he maintained their kindly feeling and their desire to continue the peace, -- preparing them, little by little, to lend ear to him, when he should go to visit them in their own country.

Those Indians looked at the places where they had come in war, where they had massacred French and Algonquins, where they had taken prisoners; and when they were asked how they had treated those whom they had led away into their country, "We were not present," they said, "when they were taken into our villages; they were not tortured." We know quite the contrary; for a young Algonquin who has escaped from their hands, has assured us that he had seen them burned alive; that the Iroquois have never treated any prisoner with greater rage; that they used all their efforts to make them weep; that those poor Frenchmen were joining their hands in the midst of the flames, and were looking toward Heaven; that the Algonquin women, captive in that country, seeing them in those horrible sufferings, were unable to contain their tears, -- stooping and hiding themselves to weep. This people, elated with its victories, is arrogant even in the land of its enemies. One of them was singing these words in the presence of the Algonquins: "I wished to kill some Algonquins, but Onontio has arrested my anger, he has leveled the earth, he has saved the lives of many men," -- intending to indicate that, but for the peace, he would have struck down a great number of his enemies.

Some other Iroquois, having encountered a small cabin of Algonquins who were hunting, the women having perceived them, fled into the depth of the woods, except one old woman, who having no more use of her legs, acted the resolute. Those Iroquois shout to her that they are friends; "Very well," she answers, "come into our cabin to refresh yourselves." The Algonquin men, arriving toward evening, found these Iroquois guests, who were making sport of the dread of the Algonquins; but the Algonquins answered gently: "We dread only the wicked; you are good. It is not you who give us fear, but the Onondagas, who are wanting in sense, since they have refused you to enter into the treaty of peace which you have made with us."

One of those Iroquois, who seemed to have some kindly inclination for the Algonquins, seeing that some among them were praying to God, usually slipped in among them when they came to hear Mass; the Father who was saying it, having perceived this, wished to make him go forth. He answers that he believes in God, and that he has a rosary as well as the others; the Algonquins, seeing that, say that he is a Christian.

"Ask him," said the Father, "if he is baptized, and what he is called."

"What is that," he replies, "to be baptized?"

"That," the Indian who was questioning him said, "is to receive a water of great importance, which removes all the spots and stains from our souls."

He -- who imagined that this water of importance of which they spoke was brandy and that there was none better in the world -- exclaimed, "Ah! The Dutch have often given me that water of importance; I drank so much of it and became so tipsy that it was necessary to bind my feet and hands, for fear I should injure someone." Everyone began to laugh at that fine baptism; he added that the Dutch had also given him a name, -- having pronounced it, they found that it was a nickname, such as our French sometimes give to the Indians.

An old man, aged perhaps 80 years, has retired to Montreal. "Here," said he, "is my country. My mother told me that while we were young, the Hurons making war on us, drove us from this Island; as for me, I wish to be buried in it, near my ancestors."

Father Isaac Jogues, who has returned to the Iroquois to pass the winter there, has among his orders to do all in his power to incline to peace all the upper Iroquois whom he shall see in the villages of the Mohawks; and in case of refusal, he has commission to urge the Mohawks to prevent the upper Iroquois from coming upon the River des prairies, where the Hurons pass, -- limiting their wars on the great river of saint Lawrence far beyond Montreal, -- or at least to forbid them to approach that Island, or the countries which are opposite their villages, as being in some sense of their own district.

SOME GOOD DEEDS AND SOME GOOD SENTIMENTS OF THE CHRISTIAN INDIANS.

A woman, unable to deliver herself in her childbirth, suffered four days with extreme pains; those who were attending her hurry to the Fathers; for they are in all things the refuge and the counsel of this poor people. They were given some relics of the late Sir Bernard, well known in France; hardly had the woman suspended them to her neck when she delivered a fine child. That surprised all the Indians, -- such that another, being racked with a violent fever, and requested by some Pagans to rely on their diabolical superstitions, closed his ear to them, to open it to the counsels of the Fathers, who had him wear that same Relic. The poor man, already condemned to death by all his people, appeared sound and sprightly in a short time.

Saint Xavier employed, in the East Indies, little children for hunting out the Idols, which he shattered by those innocent hands. The Father who has had charge of the Mission at Tadoussac, has done likewise to find the drums, and the little manitous or demons concealed in the pouches of the Indians. Those children have rendered all these instruments of superstition so ridiculous that there is no longer anyone who dares to use them, unless perhaps at night and in the depth of the woods. These little creatures reveal all the mysteries of those fraudsters; they boldly scold those who do any unseemly deed.

A Christian family was hunting the Beaver; the good fortune which it met in hunting was crossed by a terror which caused evil and good. The story was told us by a woman, honest and virtuous:

"Having taken our meal toward evening, and thanked God, my husband," she said, "going out of our little bark house, heard a noise, as of a person who, having recognized us, was crossing the river at which we were. He asked if all the dogs were in the cabin, suspecting that they had probably caused this noise: having seen them near me, I answered that not one was outside. He listens; he hears this noise continuing.

"'We are discovered,' he exclaims; 'save yourselves and your children; the enemy surrounds us. Flee by the favor of the night; we will sustain the shock, and we will die here, to give you leisure to escape.' I immediately embrace one of my children," said this woman; "I give the other to be carried by a kinswoman of mine who accompanied me. My husband runs to arms, and the young man who was hunting with him seizes at the same time his javelin and his musket; and while they put themselves in position to fight, to stop the enemy if he approached, we flee all in tears, -- tearing our feet and bare legs in the thickets, knocking against the stones and the fallen trees that we encountered. The darkness increased our fright; we journeyed and ran, all night and all day. Finally, having no more strength, we rested ourselves on the bank of the great river; and by good fortune seeing a canoe of our people journeying, we called it. It took us and brought us here, where we are in safety, but with pain. My poor husband and his kinsman are taken, and perhaps half burned and half roasted;" and then that poor creature and all her children, and her nearest kinswomen, gave way to cries and to tears that would have softened a heart of bronze.

And so, one of the Captains of saint Joseph quickly armed a squad of his people. They run to their canoes to embark, and to give chase to their enemies. Hardly were they approaching the banks of the great river, when they perceived two canoes, one of which, hearing the noise that was going on, cried: "Stop, we are alive." Everyone ran there, instead of stopping; those two men, deceased without dying, or those prisoners without enemies, said that a lynx, by its howling, and by its goings and comings about their cabins, deceived them. At these words, the war was ended; each one began to laugh, and they carried back their arms and baggage into the cabins. The desolation of these good people was changed into joy. They believed that those enemies were not Mohawks or Iroquois, with whom the peace continues, but Sokoki Abenakis, who killed last year, almost at the same season, two or three of the best Christians of saint Joseph. We are, however, told that those tribes are not in favor of maintaining the war against our Indians, and that they will remain quiet.

SOME PECULIARITIES OF THE COUNTRY

An Indian of a nation distant from Quebec has told us that, when any person of eminence has died in his country, those who can best use the knife and hatchet cut out his likeness, as well as they can, and fix it upon the grave of the deceased, -- anointing and greasing this man of wood as if he were alive. They call this figure Tipaiatik, -- as if they said, "the head or portrait of one deceased."

They have still another remarkable custom in that country. A man having died, if his father, or brother, or any of his near relatives or his friends has gone on some distant journey, they inform him of the death of his kinsman or of his friend in this way: they go and suspend the thing signified by the name of the deceased along the way by which this man is to pass. For instance, if he is named Pire, -- that is, "the partridge," -- they suspend the skin of a partridge; if he is named Sikwas, -- that is, "birch-bark," -- they fasten a piece of it to some branch of a tree, to indicate that he who bore that name is no longer numbered among the living. Here is a usage that seems strange: if the kinsman has recognized the signal, he will enter into his cabin without ever speaking of the dead, or asking how he has died, and his relatives will make no mention of it, -- for they speak no more of the dead, for fear of saddening the living. If, however, it is believed that he has not seen the signal, they will tell him that such a one is dead; and that is all.

If an Indian has fallen into any disaster, or if he has lost one of his near relatives, he lets his hair grow over his forehead, in token of his mourning and sorrow. But if you wish to deliver him from that distress, give him a present, with these words, or others similar: "Here are some scissors to cut the hair which hangs over your forehead;" if he receives your present, he cuts his hair and abandons his sadness."

If any man of consideration has died, he is revived in this manner: they offer to someone else the name of the deceased, together with a valuable present. If he accepts it, he gives up his former name, and takes the new one; and if he be not married, he marries the widow, taking care of her children as if they were his own; but, if the widow accept him not, he still acts as father to her children. Not long ago, this custom gave us a false alarm, and a false scandal. The husband of a quite young wife having died, his name was transferred to a young man who had recently lost his wife; this one takes his baggage and goes to lodge in the widow's cabin, and places himself beside her and her children. As they were both Christians, that astonished us; for it was said that they were married together. That young woman is called; she is asked if she is not a Christian, and if she has not abandoned the Faith.

"I am a Christian," she answers; "and for nothing in the world would I abandon the Faith."

"Are you married again?"

"No."

"Such a young man, is he not with you in your cabin?"

"Yes."

"Do you wish to marry him?"

"No."

"Then why do you lodge him with you?"

"I have not called him; ask those who have given him my husband's name, why they have sent him to me."

Immediately, two Captains assured him that they were doing that to help the widow and her children; that, if there were any wrong in it, they would abolish this way of acting, as they have done with all the others that have been judged blameworthy. They are told that, if these persons wished to marry, we would marry them; otherwise, they ought to separate, -- which would not hinder that young man from doing good to those poor orphans. That was quickly accomplished.

They give in France a sum of money, or something else of value, to have a young girl marry. Here, on the contrary, a man wishing to marry a girl gives presents to her parents. But, if the girl marries before the presents are given, and the husband be slow to make them, the parents take away their daughter, and the husband remains all alone, as if he had not been married. Besides, if an Indian marries a girl of another nation or of another village than his own, he must -- unless he send her back when she is sick, to die near her parents -- send presents to console them upon her death.

There has been mention of some flies which shine at night during the Summer, like stars or little torches; if you take one by its little wing, and if you move it Slowly over a book, you will read in the depth of the night as in the middle of the day. This torch conceals itself and appears according to the motion of this little animal. Besides this kind of flies, there are others which in Spring appear in some places in so great number that one might say that it snows flies, to such a degree is the air filled with them. They are harmless; but if they stung, -- like the gnats which are here named mosquitoes, -- it would be one of the plagues of Egypt; no man in the world would dare to leave his face or his hands exposed during some little time that this rain and this darkness prevail; the air at that time has no more light than when a compact and heavy fall of snow occurs.

I have not seen any of these armies of flies at Quebec; but I have seen them a little above, in some Islands where one finds four sorts of toads. There are black ones, and yellow ones, ugly; there are some white ones, quite large, and others rather small, which perch like the birds, -- these climb on the trees, jumping from branch to branch; their feet are adapted to hooking fast. They make a resounding cry which approaches much more to the song of a bird than to the croaking of the frogs. Indeed, the first one that we heard we mistook for a bird; but the eye taught us that it was a toad. There are frogs here which some persons have mistaken for bulls, on hearing them croak; this noise is tremendous for the littleness of their body. They are not large; one sees others much bigger, which do not make so much noise.

There is found here a species of deer, different from the common ones of France. Our French call them "wild cows," but they are deer; their branching horns have no likeness to the horns of our oxen, and their bodies are dissimilar, and of much greater height. These animals go in troops; but, to assist one another during the winter, they follow one after another, the first ones breaking the way for those that come after; and when the one which breaks and opens up the snow is tired, it places itself last in the beaten path. The deer in France do the same in crossing a river, when they happen to be in a herd. These animals hardly stop in one place, Continually traveling within these great forests. The Elks do the contrary: though they walk together, they observe no order, browsing here and there, without straying far from the same shelter. This is what prompted, some days ago, an Indian who wished to become settled, to say that the Elks were French, and that other sort of roving deer, were Algonquins: because the Algonquins go to seek their food within these great forests, and the French are stationary, tilling the earth at the place where they live.

Besides these deer, there are two other species, -- one of which is similar, or which has much likeness, to our deer of France; the other of which is believed to be the Onager or wild ass of the Scripture. These good people now see in their country another kind of animals, of which they had never had knowledge; these are little bulls and heifers, which have been brought here with great labors. Their astonishment will be much greater when they shall see these animals working the earth, and drawing huge burdens over snows three and four feet deep, without sinking in.

On the third of July, two women, all wet from the feet even to the head, entered the settlement of Montreal; they were dejected and all in tears. They are asked the reason of their sadness. "As we were coming down here, my daughter and I," said the elder, "we perceived some men whom we believed to be of our enemies; fear seizing us, we abandoned our little bark boat and all our baggage, walking and running eight entire days in these great woods, for fear of falling into their hands."

"What have you eaten since that time?" they are asked.

"Nothing but wild fruits that we came across at times; and even then we gathered them only while running."

"But how have you been able to land on this Island without a canoe?"

"We picked up pieces of wood, which we bound together with bark of white-wood; we placed ourselves on this raft, paddling with sticks, and trusting to the mercy of the waters, -- choosing rather to be drowned than to fall into the hands of persons so cruel as are our enemies. Those pieces of wood beginning to break apart, we fell into the current; but, after having struggled hard, we overtook our raft, which brought us even to the shore of your Island." Notice that they made more than 5 miles on those floating sticks.

It required no bleeding to cure them of their fright: they were given something to eat, they dried their clothing, and at once they were free from care. The loss of their canoe, their wares, their provisions, and all their baggage, distressed them not much. What is lightly attached is easily torn away; as goods are not deeply lodged in the hearts of the Indians, the loss of them is less bitter; they make merry in shipwrecks, and mock at the fire which consumes their possessions.

An Atikamekw who had not visited the French, seeing that a Father, looking at a paper, uttered some prayers, -- this Indian was charmed; he imagines that he would well understand that paper, and asks for it.

"You would understand nothing upon it," the Father answers him.

"How so?" he said, "it speaks my language."

The Father gives it to him; he looks at it, and turns and turns it again on all sides; then, beginning to laugh, he exclaims in his Innu, Tap de Nama Nitirinisin, Nama Ninisitawabaten, -- "In truth, I have no sense; I do not hear with the eyes."

It is an excellent word that they have employed to indicate that one knows how to read, Ninisitawabaten; this correctly means, "I hear with the eyes." This word is composed of Ninisitouten, "I hear," and Niwabaten, "I see;" from these two words they compose one which means "I hear by seeing:" that is, "I read well," "I know what I see." Their compounds are admirable; and if there was no other argument to prove there is a God than the economy of the Indian languages, that would suffice to convince us. We should not be astonished that an Indian admires the invention of depicting the speech of men; it is a secret worthy of astonishment.

Although the Indians are subject to fear, like other men, and though they are less courageous in their attacks than our Europeans, yet they take pride in not wavering when one tries to strike them, either in earnest or in feint. A Frenchman, holding a halberd, and pretending to give a thrust with it at an Indian, wounded him in fact, because he held still, without dodging the blow; he was not offended, however, seeing that the Frenchman had done that in sport. What astonished us was that he concealed his wound, from which he was afterward much inconvenienced; yet he never wished any ill to the one who had injured him, -- saying that he had done that in play.

The journeys which have been made to the countries of the Mohawks, and the communication that has been held with them, have informed us of a remarkable instance of the justice of God. The two Iroquois who killed, in cold blood, a poor Frenchman at the feet of Father Isaac Jogues, have died by an unknown death; one of the two was the tallest and perhaps the strongest man of his country.

That woman who cut the same Father's thumb had no long career after that rage; and they who gnawed his fingers and those of his companions, and who treated them with most fury, have been killed by the Algonquins in their latest combats. The same justice has fallen on those who so pitiably lacerated Father Bressany; the country which consented to those cruelties is afflicted with diseases which perhaps will give true health to that poor people.

Here is an incident which recently happened. Seventeen warriors from Oneida, having placed themselves in ambush, wounded to death a young lad of the band of Tessouat, Captain of the Kichesipirini Algonquins, and besides took two women, one of whom was already aged. While they were returning from there to their own country, dragging after them those two poor creatures, they perceived from afar a canoe of Hurons, and were at the same time discovered by those who were guiding that canoe.

Immediately the Hurons, who numbered thirty warriors, disembark, to take counsel as to what they should do. Those of Oneida do the same. Neither group knew the number of the other. The Captains of these two little bands encourage their people; they urge them not to recede, and to die rather than to give way. It is the custom of those Captains, when they find themselves on the verge of combat, to draw forth sticks which they purposely carry with them, and to present these to their men that they may fix them in the ground, -- that they may protest by this act that these sticks will sooner leave their place than they will retreat. However, it happens often that the sticks remaining firm, the warriors still flee. These warriors, having fastened their sticks well forward, and sworn that they would die sooner than waver in the combat, those of Oneida come first, to attack the Hurons, who were a point behind. At their approach, there arose a great shout on both sides, according to the custom of the Indians, to whom this noise serves for trumpets and drums. The Hurons -- imagining that their enemies were in great number -- fled immediately into the woods, with the exception of those who held firm as well as their sticks, and were resolved to die on the spot.

Those of Oneida, having recognized that the shout of the Hurons at the start was greater than their own, all fled, so that not a single one was left; the five Hurons who had not given way found themselves without friends or enemies, and they looked at one another in astonishment. The two captive women -- seeing that all the people were running, some here, some there -- unbind each other and escape into the woods, as the rest.

While they were fleeing in disorder, one of these women encounters a Huron; they recognize each other, and that poor prisoner relates her fortune, and says that those of Oneida were only seventeen. The Huron, quite surprised, immediately runs to notify his comrades; he shouts with all his might: they rally themselves and begin to run, to cut off their enemies' path. They succeed in catching one of them, whom they bring to Montreal; and they gave liberty to that captive Algonquin woman. Her older companion had fled so far that they could never find her: she returns some days later, all alone, to the astonishment of both the French and the Indians. These marveled how an old woman had been able to traverse so much land and so much water, without provisions and without a boat; having neither knife nor axe, nor strength to make a bridge, either permanent or floating, over an extent of water of more than 7 miles. The love of life or the fear of death has more strength and more skill than fire and iron.

Sir d'Allibout strove, as well as he could, to release that prisoner from the hands of the Hurons, to make peace with his nation; he offered great presents for his deliverance. But, seeing that those young warriors wished to take him into their own country, he asked them, by a gift, to save his life, and to conduct him back the next year to Onontio, -- intending to make alliance with those tribes by the mediation of that prisoner. Some time later, three hundred Hurons having come down to Three Rivers, our Governor urged them not to ill-use that prisoner whom they had taken into their country, and to bring him back in due time, according to the promise that had been given him by those who had the prisoner in their hands. Sixty worthy Huron Christians appeared in this assembly, where, on behalf of the Iroquois, presents were made, -- in token that they were enjoying the quietness of the peace; and to assure the Hurons and the Algonquins that, if they killed any of their nation in their combats with the Senecas, the country would not undertake the defense of such. In this council, the Hurons set aside some presents for the Iroquois, imploring Ondessone -- this is the name which they give to Father Isaac Jogues -- to convey their word to those peoples. This having been granted them, this good Father departed soon after, to go and spend the winter in the country of those Indians.

We have received this year a magnificent Portrait of the King, of the Queen, and of Sir: it is a Royal gift from that august Princess, who, not being able to show herself in person to her subjects newly converted to Jesus Christ, sends them an Image of the chief dignitaries of the world. This kindness is delightful; all the French have experienced from it the most reverential joy, and the Indians have shown for it admiration beyond what we would have supposed. The Father to whom this Picture was sent, to exhibit it to the view of this people, having assembled the principal persons of those who are at the residence of St. Joseph, made them a little speech, indicating that those great majesties asked the help of their prayers; and that, not being able to appear in person in this new world, they showed themselves in their Portraits, to give assurance that their greatest desire was that all the peoples of the earth should worship Jesus Christ.

Since it is the custom not to speak in public except with gifts in hand, our Governor had given three robes and three muskets, which the Father offered to the three Captains who were present in this assembly. "I am only the voice," he said to them, "of those whom you see depicted with so much grace and majesty in this rich Picture. They present you with robes, to preserve the warmth of your devotion; and with arms, to protect the Faith and to defend all those who have embraced it and who shall embrace it."

One of the Captains, rising, answered in these terms: "My Father, what you say is admirable; but if only we might see in person those who delight us in their portraits. Indeed, we almost believe them living; their eyes look at us, and you would say that their lips wish to speak to us. My Father, you hinder us from being grateful; for you say things too grand. Who are we, that we should obtain from God blessings for our great Captain and his brother, and for that great Captainess, their mother?" Then they placed themselves on their knees, and repeatedly said aloud their prayers. That done, they all arose, astonished that those portraits looked at them in whatever direction they turned. They passed and passed again, in various places, taking notice whether they might not see their eyes move; then, beginning to laugh, they exclaimed: "In truth, they follow us with their eyes in whatever places we go."

The Father, seeing them in admiration, asked one of our Captains at how many Beavers he would value a Picture so magnificent. "If I answered," he replied, "I would not speak correctly; there can be no price, but only reverence, for things so great. Beavers are nothing; that is something."

THE MISSION AMONG THE HURONS, A COUNTRY OF NEW FRANCE, FROM MAY 1645, UNTIL MAY 1646. TO THE REVEREND FATHER ESTIENNE CHARLET, PROVINCIAL OF THE JESUITS, IN THE PROVINCE OF FRANCE. PAUL RAGUENEAU. FROM THE HURONS, THIS 1ST OF MAY, 1646.

THE STATE OF THE COUNTRY.

This past year cannot be called a happy one for our Hurons, yet, their misfortunes having been less frequent than in the past, I may compare them to those who, having been submerged for a time in the storm of some tempest, begin to breathe again from their shipwreck. The earth has been more liberal than last year, -- the Indian corn, which is the chief of their riches, having come almost everywhere to a fortunate maturity. The lakes and the rivers have furnished them with fish in abundance. The trade which they have had with distant nations has brought them gain. All those who went down, last Summer, to the warehouses at Quebec and Three Rivers, having found the entire road at peace, through the care of Sir Charles de Montmagny, our governor, have filled the country with joy as well as with our French wares, of which last they had seen themselves robbed, during five or six years, by the hostile Iroquois, who were rendering that commerce impossible, -- or, at least, so perilous that it cost life and martyrdoms of fire of most of those who fell into their hands. The contagious diseases which were depopulating our villages now leave them at rest.

It is only the war that keeps affairs in suspense, for it still continues with the four Iroquois nations nearest to our Hurons; it is only the fifth, the most distant from here, which has entered into the treaty of peace that began last year. In the various encounters which our Hurons have had within a year with their enemies, the successes of their arms have been mixed.

At the beginning of Spring, a band of Iroquois -- having landed near one of our frontier villages, by favor of a dark night, and having concealed itself in the woods -- surrounded a company of women who were going out to work in the fields, and so quickly carried them off in their canoes that two hundred armed men, who ran up at their first cries, could not arrive soon enough to save any of them, but were only in time to witness the sad tears of their wives, their mothers, and their children, who were taken captive.

Toward the end of the Summer, -- the Iroquois and our Hurons, having taken the field on both sides, and having come to hostilities in the midst of the woods, -- our Hurons had so resolutely thrown themselves upon the enemy entrenched in a fort, where he had passed the night, that the victory was already half won, if their tactics had corresponded to their courage. The Iroquois demand a parley, and protest that they have only plans of peace; they throw down their muskets and tie them in bundles, to show that they have not even the intention to fight, even should the Hurons choose to massacre them all; they display great wampum collars, which dazzle the eyes of our Huron Captains; they present to the young men, who are quite famished, many elk, Deer, and Bears, which they had taken by the way; they invite the elders to an amicable conference; and they distribute much tobacco, in order to entertain the rest of the army.

During this negotiation, an Iroquois -- who had formerly stayed a long time here, a captive among the Hurons, and had become naturalized with them; but within these last years had been recovered by the enemies, -- gave them, himself alone, the victory. This man detaches himself from his people, and makes his way into the Huron army, where -- having perceived certain men of note, dissatisfied at not having been called to that council of peace -- he scatters distrust in their minds, persuades some that there is treason, and corrupts others by presents. He succeeds so well that -- these latter having withdrawn from the army, others having taken flight, and everything being in disorder -- the enemy recovered their spirits, and fell upon those who, having lost the thoughts of fighting, saw themselves conquered in their victory. Some were massacred on the spot, and others dragged into captivity, -- most having found their safety only in flight.

Our Hurons have had, in their turn, success in warfare, have put to flight the enemy, and have carried off their spoils and some number of captives; these have served as victims to their flames, and to the bonfires that they have made of them, with the cruelties common to these peoples. I speak not of various massacres which have occurred on both sides, in secret -- though I cannot pass over in silence two acts of courage.

Our Hurons, having had information of an army which had plans on the Village of Saint Joseph, were awaiting that enemy there, decided to combat him. The young men keep guard at night, mounting aloft on their watch-towers, and uttering various war songs in voices so terrible that, the fields and the neighboring forests bearing them still further, no one can doubt that they are prepared for the combat. Some Iroquois adventurers who, despite these cries, had secretly made their approaches, performed an act sufficiently resolute. Seeing that sleep was causing those sentinels to be silent, -- the dawn of day, which was beginning to break, having removed their fear concerning the enemy, -- one of these Iroquois climbs alone, like a squirrel, to the top of the watch-tower, and finds two men asleep there. He splits the head of one, dashes down the second and throws him to his companions, who cut and remove the skin from his head, while the murderer was descending; and all escaped by running, so swiftly that the Hurons, hurrying to the voices of those who were being slaughtered, could never catch them.

To avenge this affront, three Hurons struck a blow just as daring. After twenty days' march, they arrive at Seneca, the most populous of the hostile villages; finding there the cabins closed, they break into one of them, at the side, and enter it in the silence and darkness of the night. They rekindle the fires there, which had gone out; by this new light, each one chooses his man, to split his head. They remove their hair, as is usual with the victors, set fire to the cabin, and inspire terror in the Village, -- from where they withdraw, with so much good fortune and skill that more than nine hundred warriors could not stop their flight.

Such are the wars of these peoples, the scourge of which has not fallen upon the infidels alone, -- several of our Christians having been killed or taken in these encounters, and having left us only this consolation, that Heaven finds itself each year enriched by our losses.

THE STATE OF CHRISTIANITY.

We have changed into residences the Missions which we were conducting at the Villages of la Conception, St. Joseph, St. Ignace, St. Michel, and St. Jean Baptiste; these have occupied this year ten of our number. The mission of the Holy Ghost can have no fixed abode, as it is not possible to settle five or six Algonquin and roving nations, which are spread along the shores of our great lake, more than 375 miles from here, -- and for whose conquest we have been able to send only two of our Fathers.

Two others have remained in our house of Saint Marie, which is the center of the country and the heart of all our missions: from where we try to supply the necessities of all our Churches. There, three times within a year, we have seen ourselves reunited, to confer on means necessary to the conversion of these peoples.

As for me, who remain the last of fifteen of our Fathers here, I have not had a definite share of the work, so I could detach myself more freely, to go round all the missions, and remain in each place as long as its necessities compelled me to stay there.

In each one of these Churches, we have built fairly adequate Chapels; we have suspended Bells there, which make themselves heard at a considerable distance; and everywhere, most of the Christians are so solicitous to attend the Mass which rings at Sunrise, and at evening to come to prayers.

THE FERVOR OF SOME CHRISTIANS.

Estienne Totiri, of the Mission of saint Joseph, was the first to begin. The whole country was assembled in the Village of St. Ignace, to burn there a poor miserable captive, -- who, having almost as many executioners as spectators, was uttering frightful cries, which, far from drawing from their hearts any impulse of pity, only tended to excite the rage and the cruelty of the Hurons. In the midst of these cries and these barbarous fires, that good Christian exclaims publicly to all that company: "Listen, infidels, and see in this man the image of the woe that will greet you for an eternity."

Never had there been heard, in the midst of these cruelties, a similar speech; the tormentors desist at the threats of this new preacher. "No," he adds, "do not think that I wish to seize that captive from your hands, or to procure his liberty; the time of all his happiness is past, and, now that he burns in the flames, death alone can put an end to his miseries. My compassion is for yourselves; for I fear for you, infidels, woes a thousand times more terrible, and flames more devouring, -- for which your death will furnish a beginning, and which will never have an end."

Several of those present were touched by so holy a fervor; others called it madness. But it appeared effective for the salvation of this poor captive, who, at the climax of his miseries, found the beginning of his happiness. Estienne approaches him; "My comrade," he says to him, "I have no flames and firebrands in hand, or torments for you; do not fear my approaches; I think only of doing you good. Your body is in a deplorable state; your soul is about to separate from it, and then it alone will remain alive, and be susceptible to either happiness or woe, according to the condition in which you will find yourself at death. If you will invoke with me an all-powerful spirit, he will love you forever, and will draw your soul to himself; and in Heaven you will be forever blessed with him. Those who fail to honor him, have no part in that place of happiness; the evil spirits who dwell beneath the earth lead their souls captive, and, as they are immortal, cause them to suffer cruelties and torments which will never find an end."

This poor man, half roasted, begins to breathe afresh at this news. He says, "is it then true that there is a place of happiness in Heaven for those who are miserable in this world?" Estienne continues to instruct him, and finds a heart wholly disposed to our mysteries, and four or five times asks for Baptism. At these words, the infidel Hurons begin to offer resistance to the salvation of their enemy, -- shouting that his soul must be burned forever by the Demons of Hell, and that, if they could perpetuate his pains, they would never have an end. Estienne, wishing to hurry his deed, and seeking water for this Baptism, finds near him only fires and flames. He breaks through the crowd and runs quickly into the cabins to fetch some water; finally, having undergone a thousand insults and numerous blows, -- each man pushing him, to make him spill his water, -- his fervor rendered him victorious.

The Indians are not so savage as is supposed in France; and the intelligence of many yields nothing to ours. Their customs and their natural tendencies are extremely shocking, -- at least to those who are not accustomed to them, and who reject them too quickly. Their manner of expression is different from ours, but one cannot doubt that their tongue has also its beauties and its graces, as much as ours. Although they live in the woods, they are none the less men.

TRIAL OF THE CONSTANCY AND COURAGE OF THIS CHURCH AMID THE OPPOSITION OF THE INFIDELS.

Ignace Oiiakonchiaronk, -- one of the richest and most popular men in the Village of St. Ignace, before he had received the faith, -- no sooner embraced it than he saw the affections of his whole Village changed toward him. Opportunities were sought for beating him to death, and, -- these, attacks not being successful, -- so they could get rid of him with more impunity, he was vigorously accused of being in the number of those secret Sorcerers whom everyone is permitted to slay as a public victim, and as the cause of diseases which cannot be cured.

A woman of that same Village, named Lute Andotraaon, having become a Christian, had given up a certain dance, -- the most celebrated in the country, because it is believed the most powerful over the Demons to procure the healing of certain diseases. In any case, that dance is only for chosen people, who are admitted to it with ceremony, with great gifts, and after a declaration which they make to the grand masters of this Brotherhood, to keep secret the mysteries that are entrusted to them, as things holy and sacred. A Captain of high standing among the chief officers of these mysterious ceremonies, came to find that Christian woman who had renounced their dance; having taken her aside, he told her in confidence, that he came to give her warning of the plan which they had against her. He said that, in a secret council, which the leaders of that dance had held, they had decided to surprise her the next Summer in her field, to split her head, and remove her scalp, -- by that means concealing the murder that would be committed, the suspicion of it being likely to fall on the Iroquois enemies. He told her that the only means of averting this blow was to abandon the faith, and come back into the dance from which she had gone forth.

We shall see this Summer what will be the effects of that threat. However, the grand masters of that dance have requested many Christians to renounce Christianity, and to array themselves on their side; their persistent pursuit, their promises, their threats, and the gifts which they have not spared, have carried away some of the weakest of these. But the small number of those who have allowed themselves to fall away, has caused us to recognize the lively faith of the majority, and has served to animate the good Christians in the expectation of a ruder war, and of a combat which may proceed even to blood, and which may make for us Martyrs. But it seems that the infidels themselves distrust their forces. To sap the foundations of our faith, they have tried to shake them by falsehoods which they invent, and with which they fill the whole country.

At one time they circulate the rumor that some Algonquins have recently returned from a distant journey, -- in which, having gone astray in countries until then unknown, they have found populous cities, inhabited only by the souls which formerly had lived a life similar to ours. They say that there they have heard wonders, -- that they have been assured that these things which are said of Paradise and of Hell are fables; that it is true that souls are immortal, but that, upon exit from the first bodies which they had, they see themselves at liberty, and gain entirely new bodies, more vigorous than the first, and a more blissful country; and that therefore our souls, at death, leave their bodies in the manner of those who abandon a cabin and an exhausted soil, to seek one newer and more productive.

At other times, there have come certain news that there has appeared in the woods a phantom of tremendous size, who bears in one hand ears of Indian corn, and, in the other, a great abundance of fish; who says that it is he alone who has created men, who has taught them to till the earth, and who has stocked all the lakes and the seas with fish, so that nothing might fail for the livelihood of men. These he recognized as children, although they did not yet recognize him as their father. But this phantom added, they said, that our souls, being separated from our bodies, would then have a greater knowledge; that they would see that it is from him that they hold life; and that then, upon rendering him the honors which he deserves, he would increase both his love and his care for them. He also said that to believe that any of them was destined to a place of torments and fires, which are not beneath the earth, were false notions with which we treacherously strive to terrify them.

Finally, -- it was said that a Huron Christian woman, of those who are buried in our cemetery, had risen again; that she had said that the French were fraudsters; that her soul, having left the body, had been taken to Heaven; that the French had welcomed it there, but in how an Iroquois captive is received at the entrance to their Villages, -- with firebrands and burning torches, with cruelties and torments inconceivable. She had told that all Heaven is only fire, and that there the satisfaction of the French is to burn now some, now others; and that, to possess many of these captive souls, which are the object of their pleasures, they cross the seas, and come into these regions as into a land of conquest, just as a Huron exposes himself with joy to the fatigues and all the dangers of war, in the hope of bringing back some captive. It was further said that those who are therefore burned in Heaven, as captives of war, are the Huron, Algonquin, and Innu Christians, and that those who have not been willing in this world to render themselves slaves of the French, or to receive their laws, go after this life into a place of delights, where everything good abounds, and from where all evil is banished.

This risen woman added, they said, that after having been tormented in Heaven a whole day, -- which seemed to her longer than our years, -- the night having come, she had felt herself roused, near the beginning of her sleep; that a certain person, moved with compassion for her, had broken her bonds and chains, and had shown her a deep valley which descended into the earth, and which led into that place of delights where the souls of the infidel Hurons go; that from afar she had seen their villages and their fields, and had heard their voices, as of people who dance and who are feasting. But she had chosen to return into her body, as long as was necessary to warn those who were there present of such terrible news, and of that great misfortune which awaited them at death, if they continued to believe in the deceits of the French.

This news was soon spread everywhere: it was believed in the country without contradiction. At saint Joseph, it was said to come from the Christians of la Conception; in the Village of la Conception, it was said to come from St. Jean Baptiste; and there it was reported that the Christians of saint Michel had discovered this secret, but that we had corrupted, by many presents, those who had seen it with their own eyes, and that they had not dared to tell it except to some of their friends. It was an article of faith for all the infidels, and even some of the Christians almost half believed it.

Then, wonders were told; and to confirm this truth more substantially, they said that in reality the place of the fire is not the center of the earth, but rather the Sky, to which we see fires and flames ascend. They added that the Sun was a fire, and that -- if he makes himself felt from so far, if he warms or burns as he approaches us -- one cannot doubt that he makes a powerful fire in the Sky, and that he furnishes flames more than are required to burn all the Hurons whom the French try to send there.

The infidels, having seen all these resources and so many batteries result with little success for them, have relied on what they have judged most powerful in nature, the blows of which they did not suppose the faith could parry. They have incited, even publicly and in the midst of their feasts, lewd girls to win the hearts of the Christians -- hoping that, having lost their chastity, their faith would no longer be so vigorous, and would perish in debauchery.

GOOD SENTIMENTS OF SOME CHRISTIANS.

The elders of the country were assembled this winter for the election of a celebrated Captain. They are accustomed, on such occasions, to relate the stories which they have learned regarding their ancestors, even those most remote, -- so that the young people, who are present and hear them, may preserve the memory of that, and relate them when they shall have become old. They do this to transmit to posterity the history and the annals of the country, -- striving, by this means, to supply the lack of writing and of books, which they have not. They offer, to the person from whom they desire to hear something, a little bundle of straws a foot long, which serve them as counters for calculating the numbers, and for aiding the memory of those present, -- distributing in various lots these same straws, according to the diversity of the things which they relate.

The turn having come to a Christian old man to tell what he knew, he begins to narrate the creation of the world, of the Angels, of the Demons, of Heaven and earth, with a most sagacious reservation, which kept all those present in a state of expectancy; for he was far along in the matter, and still had not yet given the name of the one who had made this great masterpiece. When he came to name him, and to say that God was the Creator of the world, the eldest Captain of those present seizes the straws from his hands, imposes silence upon him, and tells him that he does wrong to relate the stories of the French, and not those of the Hurons. This Captain says he is going to relate the pure truth, and how it has happened that the earth, which was submerged in the waters, has been pushed out of them by a certain Tortoise of tremendous size, which sustains it and which serves it for support, -- without which the weight of this earth would again engulf it in the waters, and would cause in this world below a general desolation of all the human race.

Father Francois Joseph Bressany, whom we had been expecting for four years, finally arrived here among the Hurons at the beginning of last Autumn. If he had not been taken captive by the Iroquois on his first voyage, he would already know the Huron language, and would be a trained workman. The cruelties which some Hurons, who escaped, saw him suffer among the Iroquois, and his mutilated hands, -- the fingers having been cut off, -- have rendered him a better Preacher than we.

PROVIDENCE OF GOD OVER CERTAIN INDIVIDUALS.

Seven or eight years ago, we had here baptized a Susquehannock (these are tribes of the Huron language, who live in Virginia, where the English have their trade). After that time, this man having returned to his own country, we supposed that his faith must have been stifled in the midst of the impiety which prevails there, since he had no longer any support in the midst of a nation wholly infidel, and so remote from us that not even have we been able, for five or six years, to learn any news of it.

This winter we have learned, from a Huron who has returned from there, that the faith of this man from a strange land is as vigorous as ever, -- that he makes public profession of it, and continues in his duty as much as if he lived among a people quite Christian. We gave him in his Baptism the name of Estienne; his surname is Arenhouta.

Father Jean de Brebeuf went, toward the end of Autumn, to a place named Tangouaen, where dwell some Algonquins, and where some cabins of Hurons have taken refuge, to live there more sheltered from incursions by the Iroquois; for it is a retired country, and surrounded on all sides by lakes, ponds, and rivers, which make this place inaccessible to the enemy. It was a journey extremely difficult for the Father, and for a young Frenchman who accompanied him there: but their consolation much surpassed their hardships, when they found in the midst of those profound forests and those vast solitudes a little Church which they had gone to visit.

THE MISSION OF THE HOLY GHOST.

FATHER Claude Pijart and Father Leonard Garreau, who had wintered with the Algonquins on the shores of our great lake, and in the midst of the snows which cover these countries more than four or five months, followed those same tribes throughout the Summer, upon the bare rocks which they inhabit, exposed to the heat of the Sun; and therefore spent with them almost all the past year.

They had left us at the end of November; after four or five days' journey, -- in which they had to combat the winds, the snows, and the ice, which was beginning to form in every direction, -- they saw themselves compelled to leave their canoe, still distant more than 7 miles from the place where they were aiming to land. They cast themselves upon those pieces of ice, which for a time sustain them with sufficient firmness: but what assurance is there upon a pavement so faithless? In a moment everything breaks beneath their feet, and they find themselves in a bottomless depth of water. The earth failing them, they rely on Heaven, and to the assistance of the most Blessed Virgin. At this same moment, a young man, one of our servants, who accompanied them, and one of their Indian Christians, who had both gone on ahead? are astonished, looking back, to see them plunged into those masses of ice; they fear to perish themselves, more than they have hope of being able to give them help, since that place was inaccessible -- They throw some ropes to them, from as great a distance as they can; but, at each effort which they make to withdraw them from the wreck, they see them fall back more heavily into new ruins of that icy sea. Finally, they found a piece of ice fairly firm, which received them safely. From this, afterward, soaked with water clean through, and half-dead with cold, they still found means of dragging themselves from ice to ice, from danger to danger, to a place of safety.

MISCOU.

The first day of May, Father Andre Richard had started from Nepigiguit in a sailboat, accompanied by two Frenchmen and a family of Indians. The fine weather and the rapid departure of the ice had led to the belief that the whole coast would be free; as he found it even up to the entrance of the Harbor of Miscou, which he saw closed with a great bank of ice. There was no way of return; the wind, which had veered furiously to the Northwest, was stopping the sailboat and surrounding it meanwhile with countless blocks of ice, against which it was necessary continually to struggle. The night comes on, and, consequently, an evident danger of losing life. One of the Indians -- who was not yet baptized, although sufficiently instructed -- asks for Baptism; the Father grants it to him; then all with a common consent rely on God by the intervention of Our Lady, to whom they make a vow to fast and receive Communion in her honor, if they escape from this danger. Joseph Nepsuget then resumes courage, lightens the sailboat, throws some casks of provisions upon the floating pieces of ice, and, jumping upon the ice, uses the mast for a lever under the sailboat; the wind increases, and so crowds the cakes of ice that they seem secure enough to escape upon to the land. They trusted their lives to them, leaving all else adrift; then, by the favor of the Moon, and of their oars, which served them at times as a bridge in the gaps of the ice, they journeyed about 2 miles, and arrived at day-break at Miscou.

An Indian, one of the oldest on our coasts, named Nictouche, had an arm so swollen and filled with ulcers that the French Surgeons of several ships, and the Indians, were despairing of his life, -- unless on condition of promptly amputating his arm, for fear in case the gangrene should reach quite to the shoulder. On hearing this, the sick man resolutely said that he would rather die than permit them to cut it off. He asked us for Baptism, and had no sooner received it than he began to improve, to the astonishment of all; he new enjoys perfect health, and has promised to settle near us, so that his whole family may be prepared for receiving baptism. The Captain of our coasts, who is already sufficiently instructed, together with his family, has promised us to do the same.

I do not know whether I am to put in the number of our settled Indian families a house, or rather a cabin, of charity, established near us, contrary to our expectation, and when we were least thinking of it. Still, as it is composed partly of crippled persons, who cannot longer walk, it is bound to be more settled than all the others, which withdraw from us, during nearly all the winter, to hunt the elk, and during a good part of the other seasons of the year, to hunt Beavers. Here follows the beginning of it. A young slave, aged about 23 years, an Eskimo by nation, taken in war thirteen years ago, served as a menial to a family of Indians. This poor captive falls sick in his master's cabin, near our new settlement, and is reduced to such extremity that he resembled a skeleton rather than a living man; the bones had already pierced the skin, in some parts of his body.

And, for climax of his misfortune, one of those whom he had fed, for the space of several years, by his toils in hunting, had, with a cruel compassion, prepared a rope to take from him what remained of his life. Father Martin Lyonne, who was alone in our house, being warned of this resolution, courageously opposes himself against its accomplishment, and remonstrates that God was grievously offended by such actions. Then, fearing in case some fatal blow of the hatchet might fall on the head of that poor languishing man, he has him promptly carried into our house, places him upon a bed, instructs him, and takes such care of him that he began in a few weeks to improve. He asks to return to his master's cabin, where he had stayed only a few days before he falls more sick than previously: his infection rendered him unendurable; they cast him out of the cabin, and he is abandoned by his own. He relies on the Father, summons him, and is assisted; at that time, I arrive at Nepigiguit: we visit this poor abandoned one, who persists in asking Baptism.

We accepted his request, and also we have promptly set up for him a cabin in our little courtyard, with a fire kept up. Having observed this, his master, who was on the point of going away, tells us in the presence of several Indians that he could not take his slave at the same time with himself, without placing him in obvious danger of dying in his sailboat; that he gave him to us, and conveyed to us all the right that he had over him; that we should take care of him, and that he should always be ours, if he returned to health. This occurred toward the end of October; and three months having elapsed, he recovered a health so perfect that, having been lent to one of our Christian families, he killed, toward the end of the winter, more than a dozen elks.

The care that we took of this poor abandoned man gave occasion to some Indians to set down, within a stone's throw from our house, two old and helpless women, whom we had baptized shortly before, -- one of whom saw even the third generation, and if her sight were not notably diminishing every day, together with her mind, she would see in a little time even the fourth. The other was not so aged, but was at least as helpless, due to ulcers which were eating away one of her legs; both were powerless to walk. We were not willing to let them die of misery before our eyes, or urge that they be embarked again, in case a refusal to assist them should give occasion to those barbarians rather to deal them a blow of the hatchet on the head, than to take the trouble of dragging them over the snow throughout the winter.

A cabin is therefore set up for them; then we provide them with food and some other conveniences. But -- as food is only the half of life in this country, where the winter is extraordinarily cold; and as we had only two young servants to furnish us with wood, and to do other necessary things -- we were compelled to exchange our pens for axes, to learn the woodman's trade, so as to maintain day and night a fire capable of warming persons who seemed always to carry a burden of icicles. How their relatives were deceived at the beginning of the Summer, when they found in fairly good health those whom they believed to have been laid in the ground several months before! They took these women along with them to Isle Perce; with great difficulty the elder was carried ashore, when her nearest relatives embarked her again, and took her away to our house, to have her resume her winter-quarters in the midst of the Summer. Another woman, crippled in both legs from her childhood, was brought to us at the same time; and eight days after, a man crippled in one arm. Such is the beginning of our cabin of charity, which may take the place of a fourth family; they will be more constant to us than all the others.

The head of our third family, named in the Indian tongue Ouandagareau, was chosen this Spring, with the Captain of Tadoussac and the Captain of Chaleur Bay, as a mediator of the peace between the Betsiamite Innu, who inhabit the lands on the North side, 150 miles below Tadoussac, and the Indians of our coasts and those of Acadia, who bore each other a mortal hatred. This peace was concluded at the beginning of July, at Isle Perce -- where by good fortune I was, with the object of assisting both the Indians and the crews of eight French Ships.

Here follows the arrangement for rendering this peace of long duration. The Captain of Tadoussac, named Simon Nechabeouit, or otherwise Boyer, came to find me on Saturday, the last day of June, to ask me to reconcile him the next morning. Later, they prepared themselves to negotiate peace, more by action than by words. The Captain of the Indians of our coasts, together with Ignace Ouandagareau, loads a young man with a bag of wampum; two others carry on their shoulders two dozen new blankets; others, thirteen fine muskets, gunpowder, lead, and some javelins longer and broader than usual. Then they had everything carried into a great cabin, where many Indians -- Innus, Algonquins, three of the Nipissings, and two Naskapi Innus were assembled. The Captain of our coasts takes the floor in the name of the Captains of Acadia, and of him of the Bay of Rigibouctou, his kinsman, from whom he says he has commission to negotiate for peace; they assert that they all have banished from their hearts the former hostility, in confirmation of which they offered all these presents to testify their kind affection.

Simeon Boyer, who served as interpreter to the Betsiamite Innus, answered that they accepted the presents, that they would be for the future only one heart; then he brought a good number of bundles of beaver skins, of which he made a gift. The rest of the day, and several others following, were spent in dances and feasts.

YEAR 1647
NEW FRANCE ON THE GREAT RIVER OF SAINT LAWRENCE, IN 1647. TO THE REV. FATHER ESTIENNE CHARLET, PROVINCIAL OF THE JESUITS, IN THE PROVINCE OF FRANCE.

Reverend Father,

These last two years, the peace with the Iroquois, our enemies, had caused us to hope for some agreeable fruits; but the treachery of those barbarians coming unexpectedly, set back our hopes.

The first outburst of this treachery has fallen upon Father Isaac Jogues, who left here toward the end of September, 1646, to return for the second time to his mission of the Martyrs among the Iroquois, intending to maintain the peace there. But hardly had he set foot in the land when he was treated as a captive by those barbarians; he and his companion, who was a young lay Frenchman, were beaten, robbed, and stripped naked, and led in that condition to the next village, where, the day after their arrival, the eighteenth of the same month of October, Father Jogues was murdered, and his companion likewise. And the storm increasing from that on, we were surprised by it before we had perceived it; and entire villages of our Christians and other allied Indians were carried off in it, also some Frenchmen and Indians who were therefore surprised in lonely places.

Consequently, those deceitful people, resuming their former routes, block the approaches to the upper nations, which makes me almost despair of being able to receive, this year, the Report of the Hurons. God, still, has not permitted that we should be frustrated in learning news of them, by way of the nations of the North.

The letters received from the Hurons inform us that the fervor of their Christians are greater than ever; that they have baptized there more than five hundred persons; that they have reestablished or newly established several missions. They ask me with so much urgency for six of our Fathers that I cannot refuse them.

From Quebec, 20th of October, 1647.

Jerome Lalemant.

THE TREACHERY OF THE IROQUOIS. 1647.

THE 24th of September of last year, 1646, Father Isaac Jogues left Three Rivers to go to the country of the Mohawk Iroquois, to maintain the peace which they had so solemnly concluded. Before he arrived in that country, this people had sent presents to the Iroquois of the upper countries, -- whom we call Onondagas, Senecas, and some others, -- in order to confirm their alliances, and to form a conspiracy for the ruin of the French and of their allied tribes. The cause of this treachery proceeds from their warlike temper, which cannot stay at rest, and from the glory and advantages which they drew from war; and from their superstition, and from the hatred which the captive Hurons have given them for the doctrine of Jesus Christ. Those captives -- having seen us the reproach of their whole country, on account of the diseases of which they made us the Authors, through our prayers, which they called charms -- have cast these notions into the minds of the Iroquois, that we carried the Demons and that we and our doctrine tended only to their ruin; such that they accused Father Isaac Jogues, on his first journey after the conclusion of peace, of having concealed some spells in a small chest, or little box, that he left with his host as pledge of his return.

The Father, seeing them disturbed, took that box, opened it before them, and showed them and left with them everything that was in it. Sickness having fallen upon their bodies after his departure, as we have learned from the Indian prisoners who have escaped, and the worms having perhaps damaged their corn, as the letter of the Dutch testifies, -- these poor blind creatures have believed that the Father had left the Demon among them, and that all our talks aimed only to exterminate them. These are the reasons for which they have resumed the war, such that the good Father Jogues, murdered on the eighteenth of October, being regarded as a man who had the Devil with him. They killed at the same time a young lad who accompanied him, named Jean la Lande, a native of the City of Dieppe.

Immediately after these murders, of which we had no knowledge until Spring, they spread themselves about in various places, to capture, kill, and. massacre as many French, Algonquins, and Hurons as they could. Let us follow them in their raids, and mark the times of their attacks and of their chase after men.

The seventeenth of November of last year, three Hurons out of four who were at Montreal, returning from the hunt, told us that they had lost one of their companions; having undertaken the duty, some days afterward, of going to look for him, they were taken by a band of Iroquois, in ambush on that Island. We have since been told that they were captives in the country of their enemies, and that no news had been learned of their comrade whom they went to seek.

The thirtieth of the same month, the day of St. Andrew, two Frenchmen, having gone a little distance from the settlement of Montreal, were taken and carried away by those Barbarians. We have asked news of them from the captives who have escaped from the country of the Mohawks; these have had no knowledge about them. This makes us conjecture that, having perhaps unbound themselves to escape, they have been taken again and beaten to death, or that they have died of hunger and cold in the woods: or -- which is more probable -- that those deceitful ones, finding no provisions at their return, -- for the season was bad, -- may have killed and eaten them on the way. The rumor has been current that their scalps had been seen in the country of the Iroquois.

The fifth of March of this year, 1647, two Algonquins of Three Rivers -- having started with two women to go 10 or 12 miles from there, to bring away the meat of an Elk killed by a Huron -- were met by a squad of Iroquois, who seized them, and who learned by their means the condition of the French at Three Rivers and the places where the Algonquins had recently gone for their great hunt.

The next day, the sixth, -- which was Ash Wednesday, when all the French were assembled at the Church to begin there the Service of Holy Lent, -- those Barbarians came to plunder two houses somewhat isolated from the fort. It is estimated that they carried off what would load more than fifteen men, for several Frenchmen had reserved in that place most of their little property. At the end of Mass, they found themselves stripped of clothing, blankets, gunpowder, lead, and muskets, and of other like things, -- those robbers having left them nothing save what they could not carry away. A certain man, who had only two coats, gladly gave one of them in donation. Another, having learned this news, had a sledge laden with linen and clothing suitable for men and for women, and went in person to offer this assistance, along with his wife, -- excusing himself to those poor afflicted people, for having offered them so little.

The thieves, having placed their booty in safety, divided themselves into two bands to go and find the Algonquins who were hunting, -- some on the South side, others on the North side, of the great River. As they had learned from their captives the places where those poor people had gone, they easily found their tracks, marked upon the snow. Those who proceeded to the North by their trail came to their cabins; but, all the men being at hunting, they encountered only women and children. Having seized persons and baggage, without allowing anyone to escape, ten Iroquois went to seek the place where the men were. They saw Simon Pieskaret, who was returning all alone; they confronted him treacherously, knowing that, if they attacked him openly, they would have to deal with a man who would not surrender without fighting. As he saw only ten of them, he supposed that they were coming as friends and on a visit; for that reason, he began to sing his song of peace, expressing to them his joy at their coming. They confronted him with a friendly manner; but one man thrust a javelin into his loins, and pierced him through and through. The poor man fell dead upon the spot. The Iroquois remove his hair, and carry it back to the cabins; and they immediately go in pursuit of the others, whom they soon encountered and surprised.

Those who marched to the South attacked Jean Tawiskaron and some other Captains and their followers. They were accompanied by their wives and children, and were consequently less prepared to defend themselves. Marie, wife of Jean Baptiste Manitounagouch, -- walking among the last, with her child, -- having seen them as they were casting themselves upon a Huron who marched as rear-guard, cries to her husband to quicken his pace, to give warning to those who were at the front, to place themselves on the defensive. He immediately lays hands on his weapons, and kills the first Iroquois, who was marching ahead; but he was soon murdered by those who followed this man. The enemy spreads immediately on all sides, surrounding those good Neophytes. Bernard Wapmangouch, an adroit and valiant man, kills the first one whom he had at close quarters; but he was soon put to death, without being recognized by the Iroquois, who would have granted him his life, as being of their nation.

The Algonquins had taken him quite young, with a brother of his; both were baptized, and both good Christians. His brother, named Pierre Achkameg, having been recaptured by the Iroquois, was in this combat; it was he who seized Jean Baptiste's wife, -- who, having recognized him, at once asked him whether there were not a Father of our Jesuits in the Iroquois Villages. "No," said he, "the French were killed before we came to war." There were some wounded and killed on both sides, -- but few on the side of the Iroquois because they were armed; but the Algonquins were surprised in a train of women and children, and baggage. As soon as the conquerors had caused the conquered to give up their arms, and had fast bound those who were likely to escape, they throw themselves upon the old men, the children, and the women, who were not able to follow them. They slash, they cut, they gash, they burn, they put everything to fire and to blood; they beat, they strike, they tear out the nails of those whom they wish to lead in triumph into their country. A poor Algonquin woman, seeing a relative of hers severely wounded, and fearing in case the Iroquois should dispatch him, fastens him upon a sledge, and drags him after the enemies, who were all laden with prisoners and spoils.

Those Barbarians, before separating, had appointed their rendezvous on a little river of lake Saint Pierre, where these latter ones arrived first; the others, who had murdered Simon Pieskaret, appeared the next day, leading in triumph their captives, with barbarous hootings. These poor people, knowing nothing of the capture of their friends and allies, looking at one another burdened with wounds and bonds, lowered their eyes to the ground, overwhelmed with anguish and pain. Jean Tawichkaron, who was of the number of the prisoners, did not lose heart in this great consternation; he rises, and he addresses all the Christians and Christian trainees. "Courage!" he says to them; "my brothers, let us not abandon the Faith. The arrogance of our enemies will soon pass away; our torments will not be of long duration, and Heaven will be our eternal dwelling."

Immediately, not only the Christians, but also the Christian trainees and the relatives, fall upon the ground; and one of them pronouncing the prayers in a loud voice, all the others followed him distinctly, in their usual way. The Iroquois looked at them with astonishment; one of them beginning to laugh, Marie Ka makatewingwetch, wife of Jean Baptiste Manitounagouch, said to Pierre Achkameg, "Tell your people that they must not jeer at a thing so Holy. It is our custom to pray to God; he will punish those who despise him."

Those Barbarians, having learned what she was saying, broke out in derision, mocking at the piety of their captives. Pierre Achkameg, who had become a wolf among the wolves, was touched; he lowered his head without saying a word, respecting the prayers which he had formerly uttered with his own lips. The women were not frightened by these shouts and taunts, -- those who carried their children with them had them make the sign of the Cross; and not one, small or great, would eat without making this sign in the presence of their enemies. They used their fingers to recite their rosary, -- the Iroquois having pillaged and taken away from them everything that they had, even to the smallest tokens of their devotion. Before leaving that river, they burned alive that man who had been wounded, fearing in case he should die on the way, by a death less cruel; it is strange how pleasant, and almost natural, is cruelty to these Indians.

We have learned all these details from those who have escaped from the hands and the country of those treacherous people. These told us that one man, having detached himself, had been overtaken in his flight; and that they had burned the soles of his feet, to prevent him from fleeing another time. We have been assured that those Tyrants crucified a little baptized child, aged three or four years, by stretching its body upon a great piece of bark and piercing its little hands and feet with pointed sticks.

Those victims, having arrived in the country, were received with shouts, with jeers, with taunts, with beatings, and with the customary fires. There had been set up two great scaffolds, -- one for the men, and the other for the women, who were all exposed, naked, to the derision of small and great. As soon as they were upon these stages, they all requested, both men and women, to speak to Father Isaac Jogues, -- that he might baptize the Christian trainees, and hear the Christians in confession. Some Algonquin women, who had long been captive in that country, quietly approached their fellow-countrymen and told them that the poor Father had been wretchedly murdered. After the greetings and paradings in the three Villages of the Mohawks, where their nails are torn out if any are still left; where their fingers are cut; where they are struck upon their wounds, -- where rage and fury are unchained, -- life was spared to the women and the girls, and to two little boys. As for the men and the youths able to hurl a javelin or a lance, they were distributed through various Villages, in order there to be burned, boiled, and roasted. The Christian who said the public prayers was broiled and tormented in a horrible fashion; never, according to the report of a person who saw him in his sufferings, did he utter any cry, or give any sign of a dejected heart. He raised his eyes to Heaven in the midst of his flames, looking fixedly at the place where his soul was aspiring. They began to torment him before Sunset, and all night they burned him, from the soles of his feet up to the waist. The next day, they burned him from the waist to the head; and toward evening, his strength failing him, they threw his whole broiled body into the flames.

There was, among this band of youth, a stripling aged about 15 or 16 years, -- fair as the day. The Iroquois clothed him in their most beautiful robes, and adorned him to advantage, taking pleasure in seeing his gait and deportment; for he had grace. Certain persons, won by the tenderness of his age and the beauty of his body, talked of sparing his life; but their rage against the Algonquins is too great; they stripped him like the others, and made of him their plaything in the flames.

The defeat of these poor people occurred on the fifth of March; five persons alone escaped from the band of Tawiskaron. They came, one after the other, to Three Rivers, crying out that all their people were dead or captive. Two of these five had started early in the morning, to go hunting; returning, toward evening, they heard from afar, fierce yells and loud jeers, as of persons who rejoice in their prey, and who are making their prisoners dance, according to the custom of the Indians. That astonished them; they lent ear more attentively, and recognized that those noises did not proceed from their own people; therefore, turning about, they hurried to Three Rivers to give notice of their defeat. The French were touched to the last degree. There was special regret for a woman who, before her departure, seeing that a little child at the breast had become an orphan, offered herself to nurse it, -- an extraordinary charity for a pagan, on account of the great difficulties which they have in bringing up their children. Their custom was formerly, when a woman left her little one incapable of eating, and of walking quite alone, to kill it, and bury it in the same sepulchre with its mother, -- saying that it might just as well die, if some nurse who was its near kinswoman would not take charge of it.

For the rest, the Algonquins had presentiments of their death. Those two women, who were the first to be taken, having started from Three Rivers without wearing their wampum collars, retraced their steps to get these. "We shall fall," they said, "into the hands of the enemy; perhaps our necklaces will save our lives." A certain Kitauchi said to the same Father: "Here is a bundle of beaver skins that I ask you to give to such a one when you see him in this country."

"Yes, but," said the Father, "are not these beaver skins yours?"

"They are so no longer," he answers; "for I account myself already dead."

The Father who was instructing them during the Winter remarked, after their deaths, that his more usual conversations were upon the means for dying well, -- how one should behave if one were captured by the Iroquois; how one should make profit from the great torments which they cause their prisoners to suffer; and though often he had no plan of speaking to them on a subject so sad, he commonly found himself engaged in these talks without intending it.

In conclusion, those treacherous Iroquois have often prowled about the settlement of Three Rivers, but much oftener about that of Montreal; which has caused Sir d'Aillebourts to fortify himself. He is praiseworthy in this respect, -- having preferred to give up some important private undertakings than to be wanting to the public. The settlers at Three Rivers have also joined together that they may more easily resist the incursions and robberies of those Barbarians.

Our Fathers with the Hurons have sent us word that the Indians of Susquehannock, -- whom we believe to be neighbors to Virginia, and who had formerly close alliances with the Hurons, such that there are still found in the Huron country people from their districts, -- those Indians have conveyed these few words to the Hurons: "We have learned that you had enemies. You have only to say to us, 'Lift the axe'; and we assure you, either they will make peace, or we will make war on them." The Hurons, joyful at these fine offers, have sent an Embassy to those peoples. The Chief of this Embassy is a worthy Christian, accompanied by eight persons.

SOME WOMEN ESCAPE FROM THE COUNTRY OF THE IROQUOIS.

The country of the Algonquins has been, for some years, nothing but a field of dead and sick; and yet the women whom the Iroquois set free in their country, to marry their children, have always so great an inclination toward their native land that many cast themselves into horrible dangers to see it again. Here are some examples of this.

On the eighth of June, a canoe appeared above Montreal, in which was seen only one person. Having approached, she was recognized as Marie Ka makatewingwetch, wife of the worthy Jean Baptiste Manitounagouch, murdered by the Iroquois; this poor creature had escaped with toils that can hardly be expressed. Being led into the room of Sir and Madamoiselle d'Aillebourts, her sobs robbed her of speech, and inspired compassion in everyone. The Fathers console her, and Madamoiselle d'Aillebourts, who was well acquainted with her, tells her in her own language that she should not grieve, since she was among her relatives and friends. "And it is that thing," she says, "which renews my tears; when I see the persons and the places where I have seen myself so well loved with my poor husband and my child, I cannot contain my tears. It is a long time since they had dried; and when I saw you, they issued from my eyes in spite of myself." She told us about the capture of the Algonquins, as we have just written it; and then she told us how God brought her from the country of the Iroquois.

She had already been once a prisoner in the country of the upper Iroquois, named Onondagas; some Indians of that nation, having recognized her in one of the villages of the Mohawks, where her life, after the burning of the men, seemed to be assured, told her to go forth from the village, -- that they wished to speak to her. Having gone a little distance, toward evening, they carried her off, -- partly by her consent, promising her wonders; partly by force, declaring that, having left their village, she was bound to return to it. She knew that she would meet strong opposition unless she complied; therefore she told them that she was ready to follow them. They kept her concealed in the woods, with assurance that they would come to take her again the next morning, which they did: they took her away then to Onondaga, -- the name of their village. On the way, it was necessary to pass through Cayuga, from where came that man who had taken this poor woman, and to whom she belonged. Those Barbarians, being afraid that she might be recognized there, gave her a pouch, an earthen pot, and a few provisions, and told her that she should retire into the woods, and that they would come to take her on the following day. Night having set in, she approached the village of Cayuga, where she heard the shouts, the jeers, and the derisions of those Barbarians, at the bonfire which they were making of one of her fellow-countrymen. This poor creature took it into her head that they would do the like with her, because she had already escaped from the village where they were leading her, and because they scarcely ever pardoned fugitives. She had also heard, at her departure, some young men, who, not supposing that she understood their language, were asking one another which part of the body they would find the most delicious. One of them, looking at her, answered that the feet roasted under the ashes were good. All these things gave her a dread which saved her life.

She then decides to flee, and immediately she starts on the journey, walking all night, -- but not proceeding toward her own country, for she suspected that she might be discovered by her trail; but she hurried toward the village of Onondaga, keeping the beaten road, with which she was well acquainted. The next day, those who had abducted her, sought her, but in vain. Having arrived near the village, she hides herself in the deepest woods, the cedar and spruce thickets, which are frequent in those regions. She was there ten days and ten nights without fire, in the midst of the snows, with a dress extremely thin, and so short and so scant that her arms and her legs were all bare, and the rest of her body poorly covered.

Every night she left her retreat, so she could go to seek in the fields, and beneath the snow, some broken ears of Indian corn, escaped from the hand of the reapers. She found only about two little dishfuls for the food on her journey, which was to last more than two months. That terrified her; and add that every day she saw Indians going and coming, who often passed near the place where she was. She even saw, with fear of being discovered, the men who had carried her off. A tall Iroquois, having his hatchet on his shoulder, came, on a certain day, straight toward her; that man turns aside all at once, entering the forest at another place.

As these fears were afflicting her, she made this argument, -- full of error but pardonable in a poor Indian woman. "I am dead; it is over with my life. I must no longer think of going to the village to be burned; I cannot resolve to start on the way to escape. I shall die with hunger and weakness; and perhaps I shall be met by some Iroquois, who will make me pass through the usual torments; it is better to die more quietly." Having said her prayer, she fastens her belt to a tree, up which she climbs; she makes at the other end a running knot, which she slips about her neck, and throws herself down. The weight of her body broke the cord without doing her great injury; she mends it, and then climbs up again; but it broke for the second time. She begins to say to herself, with sober sense, -- for she believed she was doing a good act: -- "Perhaps God does not wish me to die. Surely, he wishes to save my life: but I have not with which to live on the way. Is he not powerful enough to cause me to find something? Come," she said, "let us ask him to guide me." Having said her prayer, she enters into the depth of those great woods, and guides herself by the sight of the Sun, seeking the way to her own country.

So there she was, wandering in a horrible solitude; as there was still snow on the ground, she suffered an intolerable hunger and cold. She ate, in ten days, nothing but those ears of corn, which she had gleaned; having consumed them, she scratched the earth to find little roots; she skinned the trees to suck and eat the thin inner bark. Finally, she came across, in a place where some Iroquois hunters had lodged, a little hatchet, which they had abandoned or forgotten. That saved her life: her skill enabled her to make a wooden firestick, with which she made fire during the night, and not during the day; she extinguished it as soon as the dawn began to break, for fear that the smoke would appear and reveal her. "Having offered my prayers," she said, "I would spend the night in eating turtles that I found in the little rivers; in warming myself, and in sleeping. I traveled, and prayed to God, all the day." What turns and circuits she made in those horrible forests! She started perhaps at the beginning of April, and she arrived at Montreal only the eighth of June: she told us that two moons and more had passed in her journey.

When May came, she saw some Iroquois hunters, without being perceived. Having noticed that they had left their canoe on the bank of a river, she jumps into it secretly, and pushes it off, but, as it was too large for one person alone, she shortened it, and fitted it properly for her use. At last she finds herself on the banks of the great River of Saint Lawrence. Having well considered it, she judged that she was nearer to the French than to her own country, which is not far from that of the Hurons, and that it was easier to go down than to go up. Consequently, she takes the current, and goes hunting from Island to Island; she kills deer and beavers; she makes a wooden javelin, and burns the end of it, to harden it; and with this weapon she takes great sturgeons, five or six feet long. She took the deer in this manner: having made them rush into the water, she would embark in her little canoe, therefore easily pursuing them; and on approaching them, she would deal heavy blows of the hatchet on their heads; then she would draw them on board, and use them as food. She found many eggs of various river birds; she had still plenty of smoked meat and a quantity of those eggs, when she landed at Montreal.

The twentieth of the same month, a voice was heard on the other side of the river, opposite the settlement of Montreal. No haste was made to go there, because the Iroquois have formerly perpetrated such tricks, -- acting the escaped prisoners, to attract and massacre those who should go to seek them; but this was a poor captive, who was at the end of her strength. She shouted during two or three days; finally some men approached, little by little, and, having recognized her, took her on board. It is incredible how emaciated this poor creature was; she was a vigorous woman and in good flesh before her capture: she now appeared so destitute of flesh, so hideous, and so feeble, that she was past recognition.

She told us that it was only two days after her childbirth when she escaped from the Iroquois; and that her child, which she carried, died soon afterward, her milk failing for lack of food. She added that the Iroquois were planning to come in great numbers, especially to Montreal: "But they are," she said, "afflicted with a general malady, which causes a great number of them to die. It is the custom, when anyone dies in their cabins, to mourn for him a long time: now, as I was adopted by a family attacked with that disease, we did nothing but weep every day; and I said in secret, to myself, 'I wish that I might weep often for the same cause.'"

She confirmed to us all that Marie had told us of the capture of the Algonquins and of the death of Father Jogues, -- adding that the Iroquois were compelling the Algonquin women to apply fires to their fellow-countrymen, to burn them. Having arrived at the Lachine Rapids, which are a little above the settlement of Montreal, and having no canoe in which to pass it, she bound pieces of wood together; but, as she had no strength, the ties unloosed themselves, and she sank several times to the bottom, -- always coming up again, and carried along in the seething water, which was likely to break her head against the rocks. "Two women," she said to us, "escaped two days before me; the Iroquois, enraged because we were escaping, said that if anyone fled again, they would kill all the others. As they did not distrust me, on account of my childbirth, I escaped more easily, pretending to go to get wood in the forest."

On the twenty-fourth of the same month of June, cries were again heard on the other shore of the great river; some fires were also seen. Some young men hurry there with a canoe; they find those two women of whom that poor shattered creature had told us. Although they were not in so pitiful a plight, -- because, being two, they had assisted each other, -- they were, still, dejected. The weariness of so strange a solitude is trying; to have no other bed, no other cover, no other company, no other provisions, than the bed, the cover, the company, and the living of beasts, is to lead a life more miserable than the life of the beasts. These two women found the means of making fire; but the other had not that contrivance, having no knife. After they had been restored to good condition, they were each given a dress and a bark canoe, to go and find their husbands, who were at Saint Joseph, near Quebec.

The sixteenth of July, another prisoner appeared at Three Rivers; she had followed a different road from that of the two preceding ones. The poor miserable creature had nothing but the skin stretched over her bones; her look was frightful: her eyes appeared as if sunk in a corpse's head; one no longer saw cheeks upon her face; her lips, glued to her jaws, seemed rather one deceased than a living person. Having been charitably received, she related their capture and their journey. "One woman," she said, "of our band, fearing the fury of the enemies, spoke to me of putting herself to death. I saw well that that proceeded from madness; I answered her that it was necessary to escape, and not to undo oneself. But as she was a Fury, and hostile to the Faith, she did not listen to this counsel. Laying hands on her child, she murdered it, and threw it at the feet of the Iroquois; then, having slipped her head into a noose, she pulled with one hand to strangle herself, and with the other she cut her throat with a knife."

Our captive said she had several opportunities of escaping from the hands of the enemy, before arriving in their country: "But," she said, "I could not abandon my daughter, who was a prisoner with me, and better guarded than I. Love for my child and love for my own life were struggling in my heart, but finally my daughter carried the day with me; I supposed that, having arrived in this country of torments, I could find means of saving us both. In fact, -- after passing through the beatings and the other torments at the reception and at the entrance of prisoners, -- after the death of all the men and of some women, they gave us our lives. My daughter, being young and sufficiently agreeable, was soon married." The Indians make no difficulty about marrying a stranger and a captive; nay even, there are some who love them the more, because they are usually more obedient and more pliable.

"Since I was thinking only of my liberty, I go to find my poor child; I reveal to her my plan. We concluded that it was necessary to leave the village toward midnight, which we did quite safely, without being perceived. Hardly were we out of the gates, when we ran with all our might, from midnight until about five o'clock in the evening. When we were thinking to breathe a little, we perceived some Iroquois; fear made us recover strength, and we rushed through thickets; terror caused us to proceed in such sort that we became separated. I do not know whether we were perceived; I do not know whether my daughter has died in the woods, or whether she has been taken again by those Barbarians: whatever the fact may be, I have not seen her again since that time. She had prepared a knife for our journey, and I, five little loaves baked under the cinders; that is all that I have eaten since my flight, except some wild fruits that I came across, from time to time, on my way. Prayer was my sole consolation. I had nothing to make fire with, -- my fingers not being strong enough to make a fire-stick in the manner of the Hurons. The wasps and flies kept strangling me: finally God showed me an invention, -- making stockings and sleeves of foliage, to defend myself from their stings." Our Fathers gave her a blanket: for hardly had she anything to hide even half of her body.

SOME IROQUOIS SURPRISED AFTER A DEFEAT OF ALGONQUINS; A WOMAN KILLS AN IROQUOIS, AND ESCAPES.

THE twenty-ninth of May, there arrived at Montreal a canoe guided by three Indians of the Weskarini Algonquin nation. These poor people were astonished at learning the defeat of the upper Algonquins; they had still strong suspicions regarding the treachery of the Iroquois. "We have," said they, "noticed this Winter a trail of some enemies who have approached us closely; and -- what has caused us astonishment, -- one of them having encountered a trap which we had set up for bears, instead of awaiting us or seeking our trail, he took down the trap, and so separated the pieces which composed it that we plainly see that no animal can have made this wreck. It is someone who has wished to tell us that we should be on our guard, and that the enemy was not far away." Such charity is not common among Indians. They added that there had arisen a certain disease among the Caribous, which made them vomit blood through the throat, remaining quite still when they were pursued. They have seen as many as five, six, or seven fall stiff in death in a moment: that has so terrified them that they have decided to leave their country to come and live near the French.

God withdraws from time to time those who are in the remote interior, which we cannot approach, to lead them to him through proximity to those who are competent to instruct them. These poor people, being afraid of meeting the Iroquois on their return, implored Sir d'Aillebourts to assist them with some arms, -- well resolved to fight if they found enemies; Sir d'dillebourts believed that they should not be denied in a matter so important. Being armed, they make a journey to Three Rivers, and from there go up again to their own country, without finding any enemy.

One of these Indians, supposing that the river was quite free, embarks his wife to journey as far as the Island, and to give warning to the Indians of that country, that their relatives had been taken and massacred toward Three Rivers; and that they should be on their guard. As he was navigating in his little bark gondola, he perceived from a distance a canoe of Iroquois. Turning toward his wife, who was steering the canoe, he said to her: "would you have the courage to aid me? I desire to go and attack that canoe." It was conducted by perhaps seven or eight men, and he was all alone; but he had resolution.

His wife answered: "I will follow you everywhere; I wish no more of life after your death."

They ply their paddles, to overtake that little craft; but, before being discovered, they saw, a little beyond, four or five canoes filled with men. That stopped them; -- they concluded that they should not cast themselves rashly into the irons of their enemies. What will this poor man do? He is not willing to flee: he cannot pass on without dying. "I must," said he to his wife, "know what capture those people have made; for I plainly see by their bearing that they journey like people victorious. Surely, they have taken some of our fellow-countrymen."

He puts his wife ashore; then, going to the other side of the river, as if he had come from the country of the Iroquois, he fires a musket shot. The Iroquois, not seeing him clearly, and supposing perhaps that it was some troop of their own warriors which was newly arriving there, gave forty shouts, drawing forty times these vowel sounds from the pit of their chests, hee. "It is enough," said that Algonquin; "I wanted nothing more; I know what I desired, -- they certainly hold forty of our people prisoner."

He takes his wife on board again, and hurries away, by force of paddling, toward some men whom he had left; he relates to them what he has seen and heard, urging them to follow the enemy. Seven young men offer themselves to him; they get into two canoes, and go quickly to the place where the enemy was. There are no hunters so eager for game as the Indians are for hunting of men; there is no cat so adroit to crouch, and hide itself, and jump upon a mouse, as an Indian is shrewd in surprising and rushing upon his prey.

They glide softly; they notice the trail of their enemies; they go to reconnoiter, with the step of a wolf. They noticed in the darkness five cabins together; "Come," they said, "let us kill and die; let us sell our deaths." A single cabin contained more combatants than they were assailants: the plan was that six should enter into the three largest cabins, two into each one, and the two others into the two smallest. There were two Christians in this little number, who said their prayers, like persons who thought they were going to death.

Toward midnight, they enter, javelin in hand; with an admirable promptness; they transfix those poor sleeping people; but inadvertently they killed a woman of their own nation, recently captured by those Barbarians. They took away the lives of ten Iroquois; they wounded many others, and delivered ten captive persons. The fight occurred with a strange hubbub. "Who are you?" said the Iroquois; the others answered with javelin thrusts; the darkness rendered this confusion more horrible.

A tall Iroquois, pierced by a javelin, falling upon the one who had wounded him, broke the weapon in grappling him. The Algonquin, having released himself from the Iroquois' hands, pursued the Iroquois with a volley of stones; the Iroquois, having caught the Algonquin again, was about to destroy the Algonquin, if the Algonquin's companion had not given the Iroquois a blow which felled him to the earth. The captive women, being set free, cried to their liberators: "Escape; there are many Iroquois near here; if the light reveals you, you are lost." At these words, they tear off the scalps of the dead: they throw into the river great bundles of beaver skins taken from the Algonquins by those treacherous people; as they could not carry these away, they were also not willing that their enemies should use them. Finally, having embarked the persons whom they had delivered, they retired to a place of safety. It would not take a great number of such warriors to give plenty of trouble to the Iroquois.

Those captives, seeing themselves entirely delivered, told how they had been taken. "Many Indians of the upper countries," they said, "had come to the Island, to join the Hurons who were to go down toward the French. Thirty families had the intention of settling near those who teach the way to Heaven. There was not an Indian who was not laden with pelts, to buy his little necessaries at the stores of the country. A Huron, taken some years ago by the Iroquois, having become Captain of these robbers, led them to the place where we were, -- which he did easily because he had a thorough knowledge of all those regions. Our people, who were not expecting them, were astonished when they saw them, arms in hand; they made, at the start, some resistance, but having seen, at the outset, three of our men down, killed by musket shots, they took flight. Greed prevented the Iroquois from pursuing them, their eyes being dazzled by the great number of beavers that we had, which made them think of pillage. That saved the lives of many people; as for those of us who had children, we were soon taken. It is how," they said, "our misfortune came to pass."

Besides these ten persons set free by those eight Algonquins, an Indian woman, taken with the others, has bravely escaped from the hands of those who held her captive. For ten days, the Iroquois had been dragging her with the other prisoners; though she was bound by both feet and both hands to four stakes, -- fastened in the earth, and arranged like a St. Andrew's cross, -- she still took the resolution to escape. Noticing that the bonds on one of her arms did not press her tightly, she managed so well that she set that arm free; this free arm soon detaches the cords which held captive the rest of her body. All the Iroquois Were sleeping soundly; see her on her feet. She passes over those great bodies buried in sleep; being ready to go out, she comes across a hatchet; she seizes it, and, compelled by a strange warlike fury, she deals a blow from it, with all her might, upon the head of an Iroquois lying at the entrance of the cabin. This man struggles, and others are awakened; they light a torch of bark, and they see that wretched man plunged in his own blood. They seek the author of this murder; they find that woman's place empty, and that man's hatchet covered with blood. Everyone leaves the cabin, and the young men run here and there: but that good woman, who after her blow had thrown herself into a hollow stump which she had previously observed, listens to all their hubbub, with fear of being discovered.

Finally, seeing that the runners who sought her had darted to one side, she leaves her den, and runs to the other side as fast as she can. The day having come, those Barbarians make a great circuit to discover her tracks; they find these, and pursue her two whole days, at the end of which this poor creature heard them running all around the place where she was. She believed that it was over with her life; but having, by good fortune, encountered a pond formed by beavers, she plunges into it, breathing Only from time to time, and so adroitly that she was not perceived. Finally, those runners, being wearied, returned toward their own people, despairing of being able to find her. Seeing herself free, she sets forth on the Way, and passes thirty-five days in the woods, without a robe and without clothing; having only a little piece of the bark of a tree, with which to hide herself from her own eyes. She finds no other comfort than currant bushes and some small wild fruits, or some roots. She crossed the smaller rivers by swimming; when it was necessary to cross the great stream, she gathered pieces of wood, which she attached and bound stoutly with the bark of a tree which the Indians use for making cords.

Finding herself in a safer place, she walked along the banks of the great stream, without knowing where she went, for never had she approached any of the, French settlements, nor, perhaps, had she ever seen any Frenchman -- she only knew that people came to see them by water; so that she had no other guide than the current of that great river. The mosquitoes, -- that is, the gnats, -- the flies, and the wasps were devouring her; she could not defend herself from them on account of her nakedness. At last, having found a wretched hatchet, she built her, a canoe of bark, to reach the current of the water, and to look from side to side, if she might not see some houses. Imagine in what anxiety she might be, having no knowledge of the place which she sought, and not knowing where the great stream which guided her was likely to end. It is so broad in several places, it makes so great spaces or expanses of water, that it is difficult, from the middle of its bed, to see a house located on its shores.

Finally, having traversed lake St. Pierre, which is near Three Rivers, she perceives a Canoe of Hurons, who were going fishing. She rushes into the woods, unable to recognize whether they were friends or enemies; and modesty made her conceal herself, to proceed afterwards only by night. In fact, she resumed her journey toward eight o'clock in the evening and when she discovered the French fort, she was at the same time recognized by some Hurons, who moved straight toward her to know who she was. Seeing them come, she leaves the shores of the river, and returns to the woods, shouting to them that they should not approach, -- that she was entirely naked, and that she had escaped from the hands of the enemy. One of those Hurons throws her a mantle, and a sort of robe; having put this on, she leaves the woods and comes away with them to the house of the French. Our Fathers send for her, and question her about her journey; she relates what I have just told. She arrived at Three Rivers on the twenty-sixth of July, exhausted and emaciated.

HOW FATHER ISAAC JOGUES WAS TAKEN BY THE IROQUOIS, AND WHAT HE SUFFERED ON HIS FIRST ENTRANCE INTO THEIR COUNTRY.

FATHER Isaac Jogues had sprung from a worthy family of the City of Orleans. After having given some evidences of his virtue in our Jesuits, he was sent to New France in 1636. In the same year, he went up to the Hurons, where he stayed until the thirteenth of June, 1642, when he was sent to Quebec upon the affairs of that important and arduous Mission. What I am about to write down has come from his own pen and his own lips: it was necessary to use a Superior's authority and a gentle dexterity in the more intimate conversations, to discover what the low esteem in which he held himself kept concealed in a profound silence.

The Reverend Father Jerome Lalemant, Superior of the Mission among the Hurons, sent for him, and proposed to him the journey to Quebec, a frightful one, on account of the difficulty of the roads, and dangerous because of the ambushes of the Iroquois, who massacred, every year, a considerable number of the Indians allied to the French. Let us hear him speak upon this subject, and upon the result of his journey:

"Authority having made me a simple proposition, and not a command, to go down to Quebec, I offered myself because the necessity of undertaking this might have cast someone else of our Fathers into peril. We had to disembark forty times, and forty times to carry our boats and all our baggage amid the currents and waterfalls that one encounters on this journey of about 750 miles. And, although the Indians who were guiding us were adroit, we still incurred some disasters, to the great peril of our lives, and with some loss of our small baggage.

At last, thirty-five days after our departure from the Hurons, we arrived, much fatigued, at Three Rivers; from there we went down to Quebec. Our affairs being finished in fifteen days, we solemnly observed the feast of saint Ignace; and the next day, the first day of August in the same year 1642, we left Three Rivers, to go up again to the country from where we came. The first day was favorable to us; the second caused us to fall into the hands of the Iroquois. We were forty persons, distributed in several canoes; the one which kept the vanguard, having discovered on the hanks of the great river some tracks of men, recently imprinted on the sand and clay, gave us warning. A landing was made; some say that these are footprints of the enemy, others are sure that they are those of Algonquins, our allies. In this dispute, Eustache Ahatsistari, to whom all the others deferred on account of his exploits in arms and his virtue, exclaimed: 'Be they friends or enemies, it matters not; I notice by their tracks that they are not in greater number than we; let us advance, and fear nothing.'

We had not yet made a mile, when the enemy, concealed among the grass and brushwood, rises with a great outcry, discharging at our canoes a volley of balls. The noise of their muskets so frightened a part of our Hurons that they abandoned their canoes and weapons, and all their supplies, in order to escape by flight into the depth of the woods. This discharge did us no great hurt, and no one lost his life; one Huron alone had his hand pierced through, and our canoes were broken in several places. We were four French, one, being in the rear, escaped with the Hurons, who abandoned him before approaching the enemy. Eight or ten, both Christians and Christian trainees, joined us; they oppose a courageous front to the enemy; and although the enemy were thirty men against twelve or fourteen, our people valiantly sustained their effort. But, having perceived that another band -- of forty Iroquois, who were in ambush on the other shore of the river, was coming to attack them, they lost courage; such that those who were least entangled fled, abandoning their comrades in the fight. A Frenchman named Rene Goupil, was surrounded and captured, along with some of the most courageous Hurons.

"I was watching this disaster," says the Father, "from a place favorable for concealing me from the sight of the enemy, being able to hide myself in thickets and among tall and dense reeds; but this thought could never enter my mind. 'Could I,' I said to myself, 'abandon our French and leave those good Neophytes?' Flight seemed horrible to me; 'It must be,' I said in my heart, 'that my body suffer the fire of earth, to deliver these poor souls from the flames of Hell; it must die a transient death, to procure for them an eternal life.' My conclusion being reached without great opposition from my feelings, I call the one of the Iroquois who had remained to guard the prisoners. This man, having perceived me, dared not approach me, fearing some ambush. 'Come on,' I say to him; 'be not afraid: lead me to the presence of the Frenchman and the Hurons whom you hold captive.' He advances and, having seized me, puts me in the number of those whom the world calls miserable. I tenderly embraced the Frenchman and said to him: 'My dear brothers, God treats us in a strange manner, but he is the master, and he has done what has seemed best in his sight.'

This good young man at once made his confession; having given him absolution, I approach the Hurons, and instruct and baptize them; and as at every moment those who were pursuing the fugitives brought back some of them. I heard these in confession, making Christians those who were not so. Finally, they brought that worthy Christian Captain named Eustache, who, having perceived me, exclaimed: 'Ah, my Father, I had sworn and protested to you that I would live or die with you.' The sight of him piercing my heart, I do not remember the words that I said to him.

Another Frenchman, named Guillaume Cousture, seeing that the Hurons were giving way, escaped like them into those great forests; and as he was agile, he was soon out of the enemy's grasp. But, remorse having seized him because he had abandoned his Father and his comrade, he stops quite short, deliberating with himself whether he should go on or retrace his steps. The dread of being regarded as deceitful makes him face about; he encounters five stout Iroquois. One of these aims at him, but, his musket having misfired, the Frenchman did not miss him; he laid him stone-dead on the spot; his shot being fired, the four other Iroquois fell upon him with a rage of Lions, or rather of Demons. Having stripped him bare as the hand, they bruised him with heavy blows of clubs, and tore out his fingernails with their teeth, crushing the bleeding ends, to cause him more pain. They pierced one of his hands with a javelin, and led him, tied and bound in this sad plight, to the place where we were. Having recognized him, I escape from my guards, and fall upon his neck. 'Courage,' I say to him, 'my dear brother and friend; offer your pains and anguish to God, in behalf of those persons who torment you. Let us not draw back; let us suffer courageously for his holy name; we have intended only his glory in this journey.'

The Iroquois, seeing us in these endearments, at first remained quite bewildered, looking at us without saying a word; then, all at once, imagining, perhaps, that I was applauding that young man because he had killed one of their Captains, they fell upon me with a mad fury; they belabored me with thrusts, and with blows from sticks and war-clubs, flinging me to the ground, half dead. When I began to breathe again, those who had not struck me, violently tore out my fingernails; and then biting, one after another, the ends of my two forefingers, destitute of their nails, caused me the sharpest pain, grinding and crushing them as if between two stones, even to the extent of causing splinters or little bones to protrude. They treated the good Rene Goupil in the same way, without doing, at that time, any harm to the Hurons: they were therefore enraged against the French because they had not been willing to accept the peace the preceding year, on the conditions which they wished to give them.

All their men being assembled, and the runners having come back from their hunt for men, those barbarians divided among themselves their booty, rejoicing in their prey with great shouts of mirth. As I saw them engrossed in examining and distributing our spoils, I sought also for my share. I visit all the captives; I baptize those who were not yet baptized; I encourage those poor wretches to suffer with constancy, assuring them that their reward would far exceed the severity of their torments. I ascertained, on this round of visits, that we were twenty-two captives, without counting three Hurons killed on the spot. An old man, aged eighty years, having just received baptism, said to the Iroquois who were commanding him to embark: 'It is no more for an old man like me to go and visit foreign Countries; I can find death here, if you refuse me life.' Hardly had he pronounced these words when they beat him to death.

So there we were, on the way to be led into a country foreign. During thirteen days that we spent on that journey, I suffered in the body torments almost unendurable, and, in the soul, mortal anguish; hunger, the fiercely burning heat, the threats and hatred of those Leopards, the pain of our wounds, which, for not being dressed, became putrid even to the extent of breeding Worms, caused us much distress. But all these things seemed light to me in Comparison with an inward sadness which I felt at the sight of our earliest and most ardent Christians of the Hurons I had thought that they were to be the pillars of that fling Church, and I saw them become the victims of death.

Eight days after our departure from the shores of the great river of saint Lawrence, we met two hundred Iroquois, who were coming in pursuit of the French and of the Indians, our allies. At this encounter we had to sustain a new shock. It is a belief among those Barbarians that those who go to war are the more fortunate in proportion as they are cruel toward their enemies; I assure you that they made us thoroughly feel the force of that wretched belief.

Accordingly, having perceived us, they first thanked the Sun for having caused us to fall into the hands of their Fellow-countrymen; they next fired a salute with a volley of musket shots, by way of congratulation for their victory. That done, they set up a stage on a hill; then, entering the woods, they seek sticks or thorns, according to their fancy. Being therefore armed, they form in line, a hundred on one side, and a hundred on the other, and make us pass, all naked, along that way of fury and anguish; there is rivalry among them to discharge upon us the most and the heaviest blows; they made me march last, so I could be more exposed to their rage. I had not accomplished the half of this course when I fell to the earth under the weight of that hail and of those redoubled blows. I did not strive to rise again, partly because of my weakness, partly because I was accepting that place for my sepulchre.

Seeing me prostrate, they rush upon me; God alone knows for how long a time and how many were the blows that were dealt my body. Seeing that I had not fallen by accident, and that I did not rise again for being too near death, they entered upon a cruel compassion; their rage was not yet glutted, and they wished to conduct one alive into their own country; accordingly, they Embrace me, and carry me all bleeding upon the stage they have prepared. When I am restored to my senses, they make me come down, and offer me a thousand and one insults, making me the sport and object of their reviling; they begin their assaults over again, dealing upon my head and neck, and all any body, another hailstorm of blows. I would be too tedious if I should set down in writing all the rigor of my sufferings. They burned one of my fingers, and crushed another with their teeth, and those which were already torn, they squeezed and twisted with a rage of Demons; they scratched my wounds with their nails; and when strength failed me, they applied fire to my arm and thighs. My companions were treated nearly as I was.

One of those Barbarians, having advanced with a large knife in his right hand, took my nose in his left hand, wishing to cut it off; but he stopped suddenly, and as if astonished, withdrawing without doing anything to me. He returns a quarter of an hour later, as if indignant with himself for his cowardice; he again seizes me at the same place. And so, I do not know what invisible force repulsed him for the second time. It was over with my life if he had proceeded; for they are not accustomed to leave long on the earth those who are notably mutilated.

Among the Hurons, the worst treated was that worthy and valiant Christian, Eustache. Having made him suffer like the others, they cut off both thumbs from his hands, and thrust through the incisions a pointed stick even to the elbow. The Father, seeing this excess of torment, could not contain his tears.

Those warriors, having made a sacrifice of our blood, pursued their course, and we ours. The tenth May after our capture, we arrived at the place where it was necessary to cease navigation and to proceed by land; that road, which was about four days long, was extremely painful for us. The man to whose guard I was given, unable to carry all his booty, put a part of it on my back, which was all torn; we ate, in three days, only a few wild fruits, which we gathered on the way.

The heat of the Sun, at the warmest season of the Summer, and our wounds weakened us, and caused us to walk behind the others. Seeing ourselves considerably separated from them, and near the night, I told poor Rene that he should escape were he able to do so; but, for myself, I would rather have suffered all sorts of torments than abandon to death those whom I could somewhat console. This good young man, seeing that I wished to follow my little flock, would never leave me: 'I will die,' he said, 'with you; I cannot abandon you.'

I had always thought that the day on which the whole Church rejoices in the glory of the blessed Virgin -- her glorious and triumphant Assumption -- would be for us a day of pain. We arrived on the eve of that sacred day at a little river, distant from the first village of the Iroquois about a half mile; we found on its banks, on both sides, many men and youths, armed with sticks which they let loose upon us with their accustomed rage. There remained to me now only two nails; those Barbarians tore them from me with their teeth, rending the flesh from beneath, and cutting it clean to the bone with their nails, which they allow to grow long. A Huron, to whom they had given his liberty in that country, having perceived us, exclaimed: 'You are dead, Frenchmen, you are dead; there is no liberty for you. Think no more of life; you will be burned; prepare yourselves for death.' This fine reception did not afflict us to the degree that our enemies believed it would; my guard, still, seeing me all covered with blood, touched with some compassion, told me that I was in a pitiable state; and to render me more distinguishable to the sight of his people, he wiped my face.

After they had glutted their cruelty, they led us in triumph into that first village; all the youth were outside the gates, arranged in line, armed with sticks, and some with iron rods, which they easily secure on account of their vicinity to the Dutch. Casting our eyes upon these weapons of passion, we offered ourselves with great courage to his fatherly goodness, to be victims sacrificed to his good pleasure and to his anger. Here follows the order which was observed at that somber and pompous entry. They made one Frenchman march at the head, and another in the middle of the Hurons, and me the last. We were following one another at an equal distance; and so our executioners could have more leisure to beat us at their ease, some Iroquois thrust themselves into our ranks to prevent us from running and from avoiding any blows.

I was naked to my shirt, like a poor criminal; the others were wholly naked, except poor Rene Goupil, to whom they did the same favor as to me. The more slowly the procession marched in a long road, the more blows we received. One was dealt above my loins, with the pommel of a javelin, or with an iron knob the size of one's fist, which shook my whole body and took away my breath. Such was our entrance into that Babylon. Hardly could we arrive as far as the scaffold which was prepared for us in the midst of that village, so exhausted were we; our bodies were all bruised, and our faces all stained with blood. But more disfigured than all was Rene Goupil, so that nothing white appeared in his face except his eyes.

Having ascended that scaffold, we found some rest; the Iroquois no longer persecuted us except with their tongues, filling the air and our ears with their insults, which did us no great hurt; but this calm did not last long. A Captain exclaims that the Frenchmen ought to be caressed. Sooner done than it is said, one wretch, jumping on the stage, dealt three heavy blows with sticks, on each Frenchman, without touching the Hurons. Others, meanwhile drawing their knives and approaching us, treated me as a Captain, that is, with more fury than the rest. The deference of the French, and the respect which the Hurons showed me, caused me this advantage.

An old man takes my left hand and commands a captive Algonquin woman to cut one of my fingers; she turns away three or four times, unable to resolve upon this cruelty; finally, she has to obey, and cuts the thumb from my left hand; the same caresses are extended to the other prisoners. This poor woman having thrown my thumb on the stage, I picked it up and offered it to you, my God. One of my two French companions, having perceived me, told me that if those Barbarians saw me keep my thumb, they would make me eat it and swallow it all raw; and that, therefore, I should throw it away somewhere. I obey him instantly. They used a scallop or an oyster-shell for cutting off the right thumb of the other Frenchman, so as to cause him more pain. The blood flowing from our wounds in so great abundance that we were likely to fall in a swoon, an Iroquois -- tearing off a little end of my shirt, which alone had been left to me -- bound them up for us; and that was all the dressing and all the medical treatment applied to them.

Evening having come, they made us descend, to be taken into the cabins as the sport of the children. They gave us for food a little Indian corn, simply boiled in water; then they made us lie down on pieces of bark, binding us by the arms and the feet to four stakes fastened in the ground in the shape of saint Andrew's Cross. The children, to learn the cruelty of their parents, threw coals and burning cinders on our stomachs, taking pleasure in seeing us broil and roast. Oh, my God, what nights! To remain always in an extremely constrained position; to be unable to stir or to turn, under the attack of countless vermin; to be burdened with wounds, some recent and others all putrid; not to have sustenance for the half of one's life, these torments are great, but God is infinite. At Sunrise, they led us back upon our scaffold, where we spent three days and three nights in the sufferings that I have Just described.

The three days having expired, they parade us into two other villages, where we make our entrance as into the first; they give us the same salutes of beatings and, to enhance the cruelty of the earlier ones, they deal us severe blows on the bones, either at random or on the shin of the legs, a place sensitive to pain. As we were leaving the first village, a wretch took away my shirt and gave me an old rag to cover what ought to be concealed; this nakedness was painful to me. I could not abstain from reproaching one of those who had the bulk of our spoils, saying: 'are you not ashamed to see me in this nakedness, you who have had so great a share of my baggage?' These words somewhat abashed him: he took a piece of coarse cloth, with which a bundle was enveloped, and threw it to me. I put it on my back to defend myself from the heat of the Sun, which heated and corrupted my wounds; but -- this cloth having glued itself fast, and incorporated itself with my sores -- I was compelled to tear it off with pain, and to abandon myself to the mercy of the air. My skin was detaching itself from my body in several places.

While on the scaffold during three days, as in the first village, there fell a cold rain, which renewed the pains of my sores. One of those Barbarians having perceived that Guillaume Cousture, although he had his hands all torn, had not yet lost any of his fingers, seized his hand, striving to cut off his forefinger with a poor knife. But, as he could not succeed, he twisted it, and in tearing it, he pulled a sinew out of the arm, the length of 9 inches. At the same time, his poor arm swelled, and the pain was reflected from it even to the depth of my heart.

On departing from that second village, they drag us into the third; these villages are several miles away from one another. Besides the salute and the caresses, and the reception which was given us at the two preceding ones, note what was added to our torture. The young men thrust thorns or pointed sticks into our sores, scratching the ends of our fingers, deprived of their nails, and tearing them even to the quick flesh; and to honor me above the others, they bound me to pieces of wood fastened crosswise. Consequently, my feet not being supported, the weight of my body inflicted upon me a hell, and a torture so keen that, after having suffered this torment about a quarter of an hour, I plainly felt that I was about to fall in a swoon from it, which made me implore those Barbarians to lengthen my bonds a little. They ran up at my call; and instead of lengthening them, they strain them more tightly, to cause me more pain. An Indian from a more distant country, touched with compassion, broke through the crowd, and, drawing a knife, boldly cut all the cords with which I was bound. This charity was afterward rewarded a hundredfold.

At the same time when I was unbound, word was brought that some warriors, or hunters of men, were conducting there some Hurons, recently taken. I went to the place as best I could; I consoled those poor captives, and, having sufficiently instructed them, I conferred upon them baptism; in recompense, I am told that I must die with them. The sentence decreed in the Council is intimated to me, the following night is to be (as they say) the end of my torments and of my life. My soul is well pleased with these words, but not yet was my God, he willed to prolong my martyrdom. Those Barbarians reconsidered the matter, exclaiming that life ought to be spared to the Frenchmen, or rather, their death postponed. They thought to find more moderation at our forts, on account of us. They accordingly sent Guillaume Cousture into the largest village, and Rene Goupil and I were lodged together in another. Knife being granted us, they did us no more alarm. But it was then that we felt at leisure the torments which had been inflicted on us. They gave us for beds the bark of trees, flat on the ground; and for refreshment they gave us a little Indian meal, and sometimes a bit of squash, half raw. Our hands and fingers being all in pieces, they had to feed us like children. Patience was our Physician. Some women, more merciful, regarded us with much charity and were unable to look at our sores without Compassion.

GOD PRESERVES FATHER ISAAC JOGUES AFTER THE MURDER OF HIS COMPANION. HE INSTRUCTS HIM IN A REMARKABLE MANNER.

WHEN those poor captives had recovered a little of their strength, the principal men of the country talked of conducting them back to Three Rivers, to restore them to the French; the affair made so much progress that it was considered as settled. But, as their captors could not agree, the Father and his companions endured, more than ever, the pangs of death. Those Barbarians are accustomed to give prisoners, whom they do not choose to put to death, to the families who have lost some of their relatives in war. These prisoners take the place of the deceased, and are incorporated into that family, which alone has the right to kill them, or to let them live. The others would not dare to offend them; but when they retain some public prisoner, like the Father, without giving him to any individual, this poor man is every day within two finger-lengths of death. If some rascal beat him to death, no one will trouble himself about it, if he drag out his poor life, it is by favor of some individuals who have love for him. In such condition was the Father, and one of the Frenchmen; for the other had been given to take the place of an Iroquois killed in war.

The young Frenchman who was the Father's companion was accustomed to caress the little children, and to teach them to make the sign of the Cross. An old man, having seen him make this sacred sign upon the forehead of his grandson, and that he took the child's hand to teach him to form it said to a nephew of his: "Go and kill that dog: the Dutch tell us that what he does is of no account; that act will cause some harm to my grandson." The nephew obeyed, as soon as possible; when he sought the opportunity to commit this murder outside the village, it presented itself like this:

Father Jogues -- having learned that their plan to release the French was set aside, and that some young men had come to seek him even in his cabin, to torment him and to treat him as a victim destined to death -- wished to forewarn and strengthen his poor companion. He leads him to a grove near the village, and explains to him the dangers in which they stood.

They both offer prayers, and then recite the rosary of the Blessed Virgin; in a word, they cheerfully prepared themselves for death. While they were returning toward their village, the nephew of that old man, and another Indian, armed with hatchets and watching for an opportunity, go to meet them. Having approached them, one of these men says to the Father, "March forward;" and at the same time he breaks the head of poor Rene Goupil, who, on falling and expiring, pronounced the Holy Name of Jesus. The Father, seeing him prostrate, falls upon him and embraces him; those Barbarians draw him away, and deal two more blows with the hatchet on that blessed body.

"Give me a moment's time," the Father said to them, supposing that they would accord him the same favor as his companion. He then falls on his knees; then, turning toward those Barbarians, "Do," he said to them, "what you please; I fear not death."

"Get up," they reply; "you will not die this time."

They drag the dead man through the streets of the village, and then go and throw him into a sequestered place. The Father, wishing to render him the last duties, seeks him everywhere; some children having informed him, he finds the corpse in a brook, and covers it with great stones to protect it from the claws and beaks of the birds, until he might come to bury it. But it rained all the following night, and this torrent became so violent and so deep that he could not find that blessed body. This death occurred on the twenty-ninth of September, 1642.

The following Spring, some children reporting that they had seen the Frenchman in a brook, the Father goes there without saying a word, withdraws those sacred remains, kisses them with respect, and hides them in the hollow of a tree, to remove them with himself, if it so happen that they would set him at liberty. He did not yet know the cause of his companion's death; but the old man who had caused him to be slain having invited him, some days later, to his cabin, and giving him food, when the Father came to offer the blessing and express the sign of the Cross, that Barbarian said to him: "Do not do that; the Dutch tell us that that act is of no account. Know that I have had your companion killed for having made it upon my grandson; the like shall be done to you if you continue." The Father answered that this sign was beautiful; that it could not do anything but good to those who should use it; that he had no intention of giving it up.

That young man being therefore slain, the Father returns to his cabin; his people apply their hands to his breast, to feel whether fear did not agitate his heart. Having found it steady, they said to him: "Do not again leave the village, unless you are accompanied by one of us; they intend to beat you to death; look out for yourself." He knew that they were seeking his life; a Huron, who had given him some shoes out of compassion, came to ask them of him again, "Because," he said to him, "soon you will have no more use for them, and another would use them." The Father gave them back to him, understanding what he meant to tell him.

Later, a young Iroquois, wishing to kill him, came to find him in his cabin, and said to him: "Come with me to the next village." The Father, knowing by his bearing that he had some evil plan in mind, said to him: "I am not my own master; if those to whom I belong, or who keep me send me, I will accompany you." That wretch had nothing to answer; he went out and proceeded to communicate his intention to a good old man, who forbade him that base enterprise, warning the Father and the Father's guards never to let him go out without good company.

As the Winter cold was beginning to make itself felt, another Barbarian asked the Father for most of a piece of blanket, which served him as gown, mattress, and blanket. "I would gladly give it to you," the Father answers him, "but it is already so short that it shelters only the half of my body; if you cut off even a little, you will reduce me to a nakedness unseemly in the sight of everyone." That wicked man, who considered it a great slight to be denied, in anything whatsoever, by a dog, this rank he assigned to the Father, took the resolution to put him to death. He sends his brother to entice him out of his cabin and of the village; but not having been able to accomplish this, he himself goes in, speaks secretly to the Father's guard, and goes away.

The next morning, this guard, being perhaps frightened by that insolent man, sends the Father to the fields with two women. Hardly have they left the village, when these two women flee, leaving the Father all alone at the mercy of the wolves who were to devour him; and the murderer of the good Rene immediately appeared, hatchet in hand. The Father, who saw all this game, and who had left the cabin through obedience, strongly suspecting that he was on his way to death, looks at this man with assurance. Strange thing: that furious one becomes quiet; his strength and his weapons fall from his hands; he leaves, as if astonished and terrified, without saying any word to the Father. In brief, this good Father was every day like the bird on the branch; his life held only by a thread, and it seemed to him at every moment that someone was about to cut it.

THE FATHER IS GIVEN AS SERVANT TO SOME HUNTERS. HE SUFFERS, HE IS CONSOLED; HE EXERCISES HIS FERVOR IN HIS JOURNEYS.

THEY gave this poor Father to some families, to serve them as a servant in their hunts; he follows them at the approach of Winter and makes 75 miles with them, serving them through two months, as a slave. All his clothes sheltered him no more than would a shirt and a sorry pair of drawers; his stockings and his shoes made like tennis slippers, and of a leather just as thin, without any soles -- he was all in rags. The sharp reeds and briars, the stones and pebbles, the thickets through which he had to pass, cut his legs and tore his feet. As they did not account him fit for hunting, they gave him a woman's occupation, that is, to cut and bring the wood to keep up the cabin fire. Hunting beginning to furnish supplies, he could to some extent repair his strength, meat not being restricted him; but when he saw that they were offering to the Demon of hunting all that they took, he told them plainly that he would never eat of flesh sacrificed to the devil. He therefore contented himself with a little thin sagamite -- that is, with a little Indian meal boiled in water; and even then he had it but seldom, because, gorged with meat, they despised their dry cornmeal.

He relied on prayer; he would go to the woods as soon as it was morning, bringing back even more wood than was needed to keep up the fire which burns day and night in their cabins. His task done, he withdrew alone upon a hill covered with spruce trees; and there he spent eight or ten hours in prayer, remaining most of the time upon his knees on the snow, before a Cross which he had set up. He continued these exercises during forty days, without house, without fire, without other shelter than the Sky and the woods, and a miserable scrap of I do not know what, almost as transparent as the air. Those of his cabin, having perceived his retreat, saw him; and supposing that he was there preparing some spells to make men die, they tormented him from time to time, playing upon him a thousand tricks. One would aim his bow, pretending that he was about to let fly his arrows upon him; another would approach him, hatchet in hand, telling him that he would strike him dead if he did not desist from his charms. They broke up the Cross which served him as chapel, but he engraved another on wood; they sometimes felled trees near him, to frighten him.

Returning at evening to the cabin, he carried another great burden of wood; but, for all recompense, they cast reproaches at him that he was a wizard; that his prayers were sorceries, which prevented the success of their hunting. And so, they regarded him as an abomination, even to the degree that whatever he touched was contaminated among them, so that he might not use any of the articles in the cabin. He had his thighs and legs cracked and split by the rigor of the cold, not having anything with which to cover himself.

He writes: "The snows being already deep, I found myself half dead in hunger, in cold, and in nakedness; I was the mud and the mire of those Indians, the shame and the sport of men. I suffered mortal anguish at the sight of the sins of my past life; the pains of the death which I was to expect, in a little while, at the hands of those Barbarians, as they told me; and the perils of Hell that surrounded me on all sides. I distinctly heard a voice which condemned the timidity of my heart. These admonitions were given to me opportunely, for I felt that I was not in a loving and dutiful fear, but in a servile dejection. I had not sufficient constancy; and instead of lamenting my offenses, I was grieved to see myself removed from the midst of life and led away to Judgment, without having sent before me any good works. These words changed me in a moment; they banished my vexations. God so enlarged the soul of his poor servant that I returned full of joy to our village, at the entrance to which, as I believed, they were to beat me to death."

Having learned that some old men wished to return to their village, this poor Father asked permission to accompany them; they send him without tinder, without shoes, and amid the snows of December; and after all that, they command him to carry, on this march of 75 miles, a bundle of smoked meat, which would have served as burden to a stout porter. He had no answer to make; all the Indians are like carriers or packhorses. Steadfast charity and patience create strength where there is none. There was on this journey a pregnant woman, who also carried a heavy burden and a little child. As they came to cross a small stream, deep and swift, and which had no other bridge than a tree thrown across, this woman, swayed with her burden, fell into the torrent. The Father, who was following her, seeing that the rope about her bundle had slipped to her neck, and that this burden was dragging her to the bottom, plunges into the water, overtakes her by swimming, disengages her from her burden, and takes her to the shore, saving her life and that of her little child, which he baptized at once, seeing it ill; in fact, it took its flight, two days later, to Paradise. Imagine whether the cold made itself felt by that poor worn-out body. The fire which was made for that revived woman preserved their lives, which they would have lost without this help.

Having arrived at the village, he had no leisure to refresh and rest himself, they command him to carry a great sack full of corn to those hunters. This burden astounds him; they throw it on his shoulders, but he does not go far, his weakness and the sleet, which caused him to fall at each step, make him turn back. Those who had sent him, seeing him return, overwhelmed him with insults, calling him a dog, a misshapen fellow, who knew nothing but to eat.

Then, by way of punishment, they put him in the cabin of a man who is all putrid through a loathsome and vile disease, a cruel man, who had torn out his nails at his entrance into the country; and in his filthiness, had no other corn stored than a little corn boiled in water. The Father serves him as a menial during fifteen days, with an iron patience and a charity wholly of gold. Finally, those of his cabin, having returned from the hunt, called him back; a young woman and a young girl offered themselves to him to serve him in the manner of the country, showing him much compassion.

When he saw them alone, the men being still absent, he thanked them, or, rather, he criticized them, all the more severely because he perceived that a young Iroquois was associating with them too wantonly. This lust, which he could not remedy, was more painful to him than his own past sufferings.

He visited during all the Winter, at the peril of his life, the three villages of the Iroquois named Mohawks, to console the captive Hurons, and to animate and encourage them to remain firm in the Faith, administering to them, from time to time, the Sacrament of penance. The mother of his guard, or host, whom he called "his aunt," -- began to admire and respect his virtues; she gave him a deerskin to lie down on, and another with which to cover himself. They had a neighbor, all covered with wounds: this man was among the number of those who had treated the Father with the most rage and cruelty. When he saw this man in such extremity, he visited him often, consoling him in his disease, and went to gather small fruits with which to refresh him. This charity won for him affection, and increased the respect which his people entertained for him.

His aunt took him to the fishing, about March; his occupation was the same as while hunting, he furnished the firewood for his cabin; but they treated him with more mildness. This retreat outside the villages and tumult of the Iroquois was acceptable to him; he made a little cabin of fir branches, in the form of a chapel, where he erected a Cross. This Church was all his consolation, he spent in it most of the day in prayers without being molested by anyone; but this repose was not of long duration. An old man, seeing that his kinsman did not return from the war, supposed that he had been killed; and to comfort or honor that man's soul, he wished to sacrifice to it the Father's. Accordingly, knowing that he was at several days' distance from the village, he sends a young man to warn those fishermen that the enemy had been seen prowling about there. It required nothing more to inspire fear in them, and to make them return quickly to their village.

Happily for the Father, at the time when he was entering the gates, a messenger arrived, who brought news that that warrior and his comrades about whom they were anxious were returning victorious, bringing twenty Abenaki prisoners, six months after their departure from the country. See them all joyful; they leave the poor Father; they burn, they flay, they roast, they eat those poor victims, with public rejoicings. I suppose that the Demons do something similar in Hell.

From August until the end of March, the Father was every day in the pains and terrors of death. A lesser courage had died a hundred times, from fear. It is easier to die all at once than to die a hundred times.

Toward the end of April, an Indian Captain from the country of the Sokoki Abenakis appeared in the land of the Iroquois, laden with presents, which he came to offer for the ransom and deliverance of a Frenchman named Ondesson, -- therefore the Hurons and Iroquois named Father Jogues. This man said that one of his fellow-countrymen, a man of note, having fallen into the hands of the Algonquins, had been badly treated; but that Onontio and the French had made great gifts to redeem him, and had saved his life; and then he drew forth some letters from the Captain of the French, to be delivered to Ondesson.

This embassy gave some credit to the Father, and caused him to be regarded for a short time with more compassionate eyes; but those Barbarians, having accepted the gifts, still did not set him at liberty, violating the law of nations, and the law accepted among all these tribes.

This new benevolence did not prevent a madman from almost beating to death this poor Father; this man entered with fury into his cabin, and gave him two heavy blows with a war-club on the head, prostrating him half dead; and if some persons had not hindered him, he would have taken the Father's life.

Nothing else happened, except that his poor aunt began to weep; and from that time, she warned him secretly of the evil plans which were brewed against him, urging him to escape and to extricate himself from that harsh captivity. These madmen -- of whom there is a great number in that country, and in many other regions of America -- are rather agitated, and, as it were, possessed, by some Demon, who causes in them this fury from time to time, rather than injured in the brain by any natural disease.

In May and June, the Father wrote several letters, by warriors who were coming to hunt men upon the great stream of Saint Lawrence; he told them that they should fasten these letters to some poles on the banks of that great river. In any case, one of them was delivered to our Governor, on the occasion which we have described in the report for the year 1642, where the copy of that letter is written at full length.

About that time, some Iroquois Captains, going to visit some small nations which are tributary to them, to get some presents, that man who had the Father in custody, being of the group, led him in his train; his plan was to display the triumphs of the Iroquois over even the nations which are in Europe.

As soon as the Father entered into any village, he visited all the cabins and baptized the dying children. Going from cabin to cabin, he perceived a young man who was ill; the man, turning to the Father, said to him, "Ondesson," -- calling him by the Indian name which he bore in those regions, "do you not know me? do you remember the favor that I did you at your entrance into the country of the Iroquois?"

"I do not remember having ever seen you," said the Father to him; "but what favor did you do me?"

"Do you remember," he replies, "a man who cut the bonds, in the third village of the Mohawk Iroquois, when you were at the end of your strength?"

"I remember it; that man helped me. I have never been able to thank him; give me some news of him, if you are acquainted with him."

"It was I," answers this poor invalid. At these words, the Father falls upon him and embraces him, showing him with heart, eyes, and voice the grateful emotions which he felt for such a benefit. The Father baptizes him; and shortly after, he went to Heaven.

The Father's fatigues in that journey of more than 200 miles were fully soothed and rewarded by the salvation of his Benefactor. There was never Anchorite more self-disciplined than this poor captive on that journey; his food was only a little wild purslane which he went to gather in the fields, with which he made a soup without other seasoning than clear water. They gave him certain seeds to eat, but so flavorless and so dangerous that they served as a quick poison to those who did not know how to prepare them; and he would not touch them.

THE FATHER ESCAPES FROM THE IROQUOIS AND PROCEEDS TO FRANCE THROUGH THE INTERVENTION OF THE DUTCH. HE RETURNS TO CANADA; HAVING ARRIVED THERE, HE MAKES A JOURNEY TO THE COUNTRY OF THE IROQUOIS.

UPON the return from this journey, they command the Father to go and accompany some fishermen, who guided him 17 or 20 miles below a Dutch settlement. While he was engaged in that exercise, he learned from the lips of some Iroquois who came there that they were awaiting him in the village to burn him. This news was the occasion of his deliverance, of which, -- having sufficiently mentioned it in the Report for the year 1642 and 1643, I will relate here only some details of which there has been but little if any mention. The Dutch having given him the opportunity to enter a ship, the Iroquois complained of it; he was withdrawn from there and brought to the house of the Captain, who gave him in custody to an old man, until they should have appeased those Barbarians. If they had persevered in their demand, and rejected some presents that were made to them, the Father would have been given up into their hands, to be the object of their fury and food for their fires. While they were awaiting the opportunity to send him back to Europe, he remained six weeks under the guard of that old man, who was miserly, and lodged him in an old attic, where hunger, and thirst, and heat, and the fear at every moment of falling back into the hands of the Iroquois, gave him excellent reason to cast and submerge himself within the providence of him who had so often caused him to realize his presence.

This man was the food provisioner of that settlement; he made lye every two weeks, then carried back his tub to the attic, in which he put water which served the Father for drink until the next lye-making. This water, which soon spoiled in the Summer heat, caused him a severe pain in the stomach. They gave him to eat as much as was necessary, not to live, but not to die. The Minister visited him sometimes, and one day, asking him how they treated him, he answered that they brought him few things. "I suspect as much," the Minister answers, "for that old man is a great miser, who probably retains most of the provisions that are sent to you." The Father assured him that he was content, and that his sufferings had long since been acceptable to him. In this attic where the Father was, there was a recess to which his Guard continually led Iroquois Indians, to sell some produce which he locked up there: this recess was made of planks so slightly joined that one might easily have passed his fingers into the openings. "I am astonished," says the Father, "that those Barbarians did not hundreds of times discover me; I saw them without difficulty; and unless God had turned away their eyes, they would have perceived me a thousand times. I concealed myself behind casks, bending myself into a posture which gave me hell and torture two, three, or four hours in succession, and that often. To go down to the court of the dwelling, or to go to other places, was casting myself headlong into danger; for every place was filled with those who were seeking me to death. Besides, to increase my my troubles, the wound which a dog had inflicted upon me, the night that I escaped from the Iroquois, caused me so great a pain that, if the Surgeon of that settlement had not put his hand to it, I would have lost not only the leg, but life; for gangrene was already setting in.

"The Captain of the principal settlement, called Manhattan, distant 150 miles from the one where I was, having learned that I was not at my ease in that vicinity of the Iroquois, or Maquois, as the Dutch name them, commanded that I be taken to his fort. By good fortune, at the same time when they received his letters, a vessel was to go down, in which they made me embark together with a Minister, who showed me much kindness. He was supplied with a number of bottles, which he dealt out lavishly, especially on coming to an Island, to which he wished that my name should be given with the noise of the cannon and of the bottles; each one manifests his love in his own fashion."

This good Father was received in Manhattan with great tokens of affection; the Captain had a black coat made for him, sufficiently light, and gave him also a good cloak and a hat in their own style. The inhabitants came to see him, showing, by their looks and their words, that they felt great sympathy for him. Some asked him what recompense the Company of New France would give him, imagining that he had suffered those indignities on account of their trade. But he told them that worldly thoughts had not caused him to leave his own country; and that the announcement of the Gospel was the sole good that he had had in view when casting himself into the dangers into which he had fallen.

A good lad, having met him in a retired place, fell at his feet, taking his hands to kiss them, and exclaiming, "Martyr, Martyr of Jesus Christ!" He questioned him, and ascertained that he was a Lutheran, whom he could not aid for lack of acquaintance with his language; he was a Pole. Entering a house quite near the fort, he saw two images on the mantelpiece, one, of the blessed Virgin; the other, of our Blessed Aloysius Gonzaga. When he showed some satisfaction at this, the master of the house told him that his wife was a catholic. She was a Portuguese, brought into that country by I know not what chance; she appeared modest and bashful.

An Irish Catholic, arriving at Manhattan from Virginia, confessed to the Father and told him that there were some of our Fathers in those regions; and that lately one of them -- following the Indians into the woods to convert them -- had been killed by other Indians, enemies of those whom the Father accompanied. Finally, the Governor of the country, sending a barque of one hundred tons to Holland, sent the Father back, at the beginning of November. He suffered much in that voyage; his bed was the deck, or a pile of cordage, often washed by the waves of the sea. The scanty provisions and the severe cold did not agree with a man rather lightly covered, and who had so long fasted among Barbarians.

They anchored in a port of England, toward the end of December; the Mariners wishing to refresh themselves a little, all went away to a village, leaving the Father with a sailor to guard the barque. Toward evening, some robbers arrive in a boat: they enter this barque, which they believe to be laden with great riches because of just coming from a long voyage. They point a pistol at the Father; but, having recognized that he was French, they did him no other harm than to rob him of everything that he had, that is, his cloak and his hat, with all the baggage of those poor Hollanders. The man who commanded that barque, being notified of this robbery, was astounded; while he came and went, seeking everywhere the authors of this crime, the Father met a French vessel, which gave him the means to live until he had found the means to cross over to France.

On Christmas eve he embarked, like a poor man, in I do not know what boat or little barque laden with mineral coal, which landed him the next day on the coast of lower Brittany. The poor Father, having perceived a little house all by itself, went to ask those who inhabited it, where the Church was. These good people showed him the way; and supposing by his modesty that he was some poor Irish catholic, they invited him to come and take his meal in their dwelling, when he should have accomplished his devotions, which he accepted willingly, on account of the great necessity to which he was reduced. He therefore proceeded to the house of Our Lord, the day of his nativity on the earth. Having confessed and received communion, and been present at the Blessed Sacrifice of the Mass, he went to visit those who had so charitably invited him; they were poor people, but endowed with a charity Christian.

Having seen his hands all torn, and learning how he had suffered that martyrdom, they did not know what welcome to give him. This good host had two young daughters who presented to the Father their donations with so much humility that the Father was uplifted. I suppose that they gave him each two or three cents, it was possibly their entire treasure; but he had no need of their riches. An honest Merchant of Rennes, happening to be in that house, having learned the Father's history, offered him a horse, assuring him that he would count it a favor to escort him as far as the first of our houses. This offer was accepted with deep emotion.

Finally, on the fifth of January, 1644, in the morning, Father Jogues was knocking at the door of our College at Rennes. The porter seeing him in such plight, clad in garments so incongruous, did not recognize him. Father Jogues implored him to bring the Father Rector, so he could impart to him, he said, some news from Canada. The Father Rector was putting on the Sacerdotal vestments, to celebrate Mass; but the porter having told him that a poor man, come from Canada, was asking for him, that word "poor" touched him. He then lays aside the sacred vestments with which he was partly robed, to perform an act of charity. He goes to find him. Father Jogues, without revealing his identity, gives him letters signed by the Governor of the Dutch; before reading these, the Father Rector asks various questions of Father Jogues, without recognizing him; and then, at last, he asks him if he were acquainted with Father Isaac Jogues.

"I know him," he answers.

"We have had word that he was captured by the Iroquois; is he dead? is he still captive? Have not those Barbarians slain him?"

"He is at liberty, and it is he, my Reverend Father, who speaks to you;" and then he falls upon his knees to receive his blessing. The Father Rector, overcome with an unaccustomed joy, embraces him, and has him enter the house; everyone hurries there; the joy of a deliverance so unexpected interrupts their words. They regard him as a Lazarus raised from the dead, who is destined to go and die for the last time in the country where he has already suffered so many deaths.

From Rennes, he comes to Paris; the Queen, having heard mention of his sufferings, wished to see him; her eyes were touched with compassion at the sight of the cruelty of the Iroquois. He made no long stay in France; the Spring of 1644 having come, he went to la Rochelle to cross back to the country of his martyrdom, where, having arrived, he was sent to Montreal. His memory is still living there; the fragrance of his virtues still refreshes and comforts all those who have had the happiness to know him and converse with him. Peace being made with the Iroquois, as has been seen in the Reports, the Father was taken from Montreal, to go and lay the foundations of a Mission in their country, which was named "the Mission of the martyrs."

On the sixteenth of May, 1646, this good Father left Three Rivers, together with Sir Bourdon, the engineer of the Governor. Sir Bourdon has told me that this good Father was indefatigable; that they suffered extremely on that road of iron. They arrived at Three Rivers, having accomplished their embassy, on the 29th of June.

FATHER ISAAC JOGUES RETURNS FOR THE THIRD TIME TO THE COUNTRY OF THE IROQUOIS, WHERE HE IS PUT TO DEATH.

HARDLY had the poor Father been refreshed among us two or three months, when he recommenced his expeditions; on the twenty-fourth of September in the same year, 1646, he embarks with a young Frenchman, in a canoe conducted by some Hurons, to return to the land of his troubles. He had strong premonitions of his death, which he communicated to some persons in confidence. We have recovered a letter which he wrote to one of our Fathers in France, a little before he left us for the last time; in which he speaks as follows:

"My dear Father, The Iroquois have come to make some present to our Governor, to retrieve certain prisoners whom he had, and to negotiate for peace with him in the name of the whole country. It has been concluded, to the great satisfaction of the French. It is judged necessary here, to maintain it, and to ascertain quietly what can be done for the instruction of those tribes, to send there some Father. I believe that I shall be employed there, as I have some knowledge of the language of the country. I must be responsible for all the accidents between the Iroquois, French, Algonquins, and Hurons. But what of that? My hope is in God. I would be happy if our Lord were willing to finish the Sacrifice where he has begun it. Goodbye, my dear Father."

We have learned that he was slain directly upon his entrance into that country: here follows a letter announcing this, from the Governor of the Dutch to Sir Charles de Montmagny.

"I send this by way of the northern regions, by means of either the English or Sir d'Aunay, to inform you of the murder which the Barbarous and inhuman Maquois, or Iroquois, have committed upon Father Isaac Jogues and his companion. I also inform you of the plan which they have, to surprise you under pretext of a visit, as you will see by the letter enclosed; Which, although it is poorly worded and spelled, acquaints you with the details. I am grieved that the subject is not more agreeable; but the importance of the matter has not allowed me to be silent. Our Minister up there" (that is, at a settlement situated on the upper part of the river) "has carefully inquired, from the principal men of that rabble, concerning the reason of this wretched deed; but he could not obtain other answer from them, except that the Father had left the Devil among some clothes which he had left in their custody, who had caused their Indian corn to be devoured."

The enclosure mentioned in the preceding, written by a Dutchman to Sir Bourdon, is expressed in the following terms:

"I have not much to tell you, except how the French arrived, on the 17th of this present month of October, 1647, at the fort of the Maquois (Iroquois). This is to inform you how those ungrateful Barbarians did not wait after they had arrived in their cabins, where they were stripped all naked, without shirts, save that they gave them each a loincloth to hide their wretched plight. The day of their coming, they began to threaten them with heavy blows of fists and clubs, saying: 'You will die tomorrow; be not astonished. But we will not burn you; have courage; we will strike you with the hatchet and will set your heads on the palings' (that is to say, on the fence about their village), 'so that when we shall capture your brothers they may still see you.' You must know that it was only the clan of the bear which put them to death; the clans of the wolf and the turtle did all they could to save their lives, and said to the clan of the bear: 'Kill us first.' But alas.

"On the 18th, in the evening, when they came to call Isaac to supper, he got up and went away with that Indian to the lodge of the bear. There was a traitor with his hatchet behind the door, who, on entering, split open his head; then immediately he cut it off, and set it on the fence. The next day, early, he did the same to the other man, and their bodies were thrown into the river. I have not been able to learn from any Indian why they have killed them. For the rest, their desire and undertaking is to go away, three or four hundred men, so they may try to surprise the French, to do the same with them as they have done with these others."

Such is what the Dutch have written concerning the death of Father Isaac Jogues. One of these two letters is dated the thirtieth of October; the other, the fourteenth of November, of last year, 1646. They were not delivered to our Governor until June in this year, 1647. A little before having received them, some Algonquin women and a Huron, having escaped from captivity among those Barbarians, had told us of this murder; but they did not describe the details, we shall know them still more fully some day.

The Algonquins and Hurons have had, and some have still, a hatred and an extreme horror of our doctrine. They say that it causes them to die, and that it contains spells and charms which effect the destruction of their corn, and engender the contagious and general diseases with which the Iroquois now begin to be afflicted. It is on this account that we have expected to be murdered.

Besides, these Indians have apparent reasons for reproaching us, as the scourges precede us or accompany us wherever we go.

One must not forget the young Frenchman who was slain with the Father. That good youth, called Jean de la Lande, a native of the City of Dieppe, seeing the dangers in which he was involving himself in so perilous a journey, protested at his departure that the desire of serving God was leading him into a country where he surely expected to meet death. This frame of mind has enabled him to pass into a life which no longer fears the pangs of death.

We have been told that the Iroquois, intending to burn any prisoner, ask him if he prays, that is, whether he is baptized. If he answers that he has received this divine Sacrament, they lose hope of making him groan in his torments, persuading themselves that the Faith gives constancy to a soul. It is further said that they have seen issuing from the lips of a Christian, whom they were burning, a strange brightness which has terrified them.

Being in the country of the Iroquois, our Martyr could not see without joy the posts which supported the scaffold on which he had suffered so much; he would kiss them and embrace them, not only through a love for sufferings, but because they were, he said, the instruments of divine justice for his crimes. Never had the Jesuits (according to his saying) received anyone so base as he. It was necessary to command him, to make him tell what we have related, not that he was against obedience, but because he had so low an opinion of himself that he could not speak of that but with contempt. The Queen having desired to see him, he could not persuade himself that she had that desire; it was necessary for this good Princess to repeat her command, to make him go. It was tormenting him, to ask him to see his hands all torn.

Having returned from the Iroquois, he wrote to a Father that he had desired to spend another Winter with him, to train himself more thoroughly in virtue; "but I would like still better," he added, "to return for the third time to the country of the Iroquois." Never did he feel, in the midst of his sufferings, any aversion against the Iroquois. I believe that, being in Heaven, he has asked God for the salvation of the man who put him to death; for that poor wretch, having been captured by the French, has been baptized and put to death.

He was of a rather nervous temperament, which shows that his constancy came from above. He did not know what it was to recoil in difficulties; this word, "go," was enough for him; there is no monster, there is no Demon that he would not have confronted with that word.

I have already remarked that he would rather content himself with a little water and Indian meal, for sustaining half his life (for he had not a sufficiency of that by half), than eat meat which he knew to be sacrificed to the Demon. It was not that he might not have observed the counsel of saint Paul, and taken the things which were given him, without inquiring where they came from; but he wished, with a courage which cost him dear, to have those Barbarians understand that there was another God than those Genii or Demons whom they honored solely for their worldly interest.

Going to visit the Dutch in the time of his captivity, they invited him and sometimes urged him to drink a little of those waters of fire, or burnt wines, which they use; he declined with thanks, to show the Iroquois, who often become intoxicated with those drinks, that one must not touch what caused So great an evil.

An Iroquois, having fallen sick, fancied that it was necessary to perform I do not know what dance, or some other ceremony, for his health; and that Ondesson must be of the company, holding his book in his hand and behaving as the French do when they pray. The Indians do not know what it is to refuse what another has dreamed ought to be done for his health. This law is common throughout the countries of America of which we have knowledge. They go then to find the Father; they represent to him that such a one's health is in his hands; they do not suppose that he will make any difficulty about granting what a whole world finds reasonable. They encouraged him, urging that this cure, which they accounted certain, would be honorable for him. The Father, smiling, rebukes the vanity of their dreams. They urge him, but he refuses: other messengers are sent, representing that it is cruelty to allow a poor sick man to suffer and die.

Finally, when they saw that he would not come, they take the resolution to conduct him there by force, and send young men to seize him; but as he was agile, and little burdened with flesh, he eludes their hands, and takes to his heels. They pursued him at full speed; they found that he had the legs of a Deer, and that if he had wished to escape, he could have done so, since he outran the best runners of the country. In fact, charity alone kept him among the Iroquois, for he preferred the salvation of the captives to his own life and liberty. In conclusion, he returned to the village resolved to die rather than allow, however little, their superstitions. They spoke to him no more of these.

Although he was of a hasty and quick temper, he still knew so well how to submit when Christian humility required it, and to assume superiority when he saw the glory of his God involved, that those Indians sometimes said to him, laughing: "Ondesson, it would have been ill to put you to death; for you act the master well, when you choose, and the child when anything is commanded you."

More than a hundred times, they said to him: "You will cause your own death; you speak too boldly. And if in our country -- where you are a prisoner, and all alone in your cause -- you oppose us, what would you do if you were at liberty among your own people? Never will you speak in favor of the Iroquois." All that did not confuse him; as he obeyed the least in things lawful, however humble they were, he also resisted the greatest, when it was a question of the glory of God.

He was invited on a certain day to go to see some sports and dances, which were to take place in another village: he went there in good company. He had no sooner arrived than he stole away from the tumult and the crowd, to slip into the cabins, so he could console the sick and dying.

He was in unusual misery when he was compelled to take the resolution that he would escape through the intervention of the Dutch; if he had not seen that it was all over with his life, and that he could no longer help those poor Indians unless he escaped, so that he might come and find them at another time, never could he have abandoned them; but our Lord prolonged his life, so he might come and present it to him another time, as a burnt-offering, at the place where he had already begun his sacrifice.

THE CHRISTIANS OF SAINT JOSEPH AT SILLERY.

A PERSON of merit donated for building in these new regions a little Chapel under the name of Saint Michael; we have exerted ourselves to supply what was lacking, to build a little Church.

Last Spring, the Christians of saint Joseph armed three sailboats and some canoes, to go and scour the great river; and to give chase to the enemy, who appeared from time to time in various places. They were escorted by some Frenchmen, whom our Governor had given them. Having reached Montreal, they were all feasted with much benevolence.

Two days after their arrival, they embarked again to go down to Quebec. As they had not encountered enemies, they imagined that the great river was free; for that reason, they were not on their guard. A canoe conducted by two Hurons, preceding the sailboats, was attacked and taken in lake saint Pierre by a squad of Iroquois. The canoes which followed, having perceived this, immediately go up again toward the sailboats; several young men had gone aside among the Islands, to hunt muskrats. Finally, having come together again, they proceed toward the enemy, who, not thinking that he can resist those sailboats, casts himself, along with his prey, into the forest; in a place flooded by the Spring rains, they fortify themselves as best they can. A Christian Captain, preparing himself for combat, made a vigorous speech to his people, holding in his hand a Crucifix and a Rosary enriched with a great medal. Another, javelin in hand, seconded him. The French meanwhile confessed to a Father who was present on that occasion.

As night was approaching, it was deemed best that the Father should get into a canoe and take a trip to Three Rivers, to warn our Governor of what was occurring. He learned the news toward ten o'clock in the evening; and on the next day he was present with a reinforcement of two good sailboats and ten canoes, at the place where those Barbarians had entrenched themselves. A Huron, desiring to reconnoiter them, was killed by a musket shot, and eaten by those Cannibals. They had tied their canoes together, in order not to have their feet in the water, because their fort was flooded. The Governor, having arrived, wished to reconnoiter the place; but the rain fell in so great abundance, all night, that the weapons could not be handled. The next day, at dawn, those birds had flown away.

THE MISSION OF THE ASSUMPTION IN THE COUNTRY OF THE ABENAKIS.

THE Abenakis having come to ask for a Father of our Jesuits, to take him into their country, Father Gabriel Druillettes was granted to them. He started from saint Joseph, or the residence of Sillery, on the twenty-ninth of August, guided by a squad of Indians. I say nothing of the difficulties which must be experienced in a journey of nine or ten months, in which one encounters rivers iron-bound with rocks, and the vessels which carry you are only of bark; in which the perils of life recur oftener than the days and the nights; in which the cold of Winter changes a whole country into snow and ice; where it is necessary to carry one's house, one's living, and one's provisions; where you have no other company than that of the Indians; where there is found neither bread nor wine, nor any food of the kinds which are commonly used in Europe; where one might say that all the roads lead to Hell, so frightful are they.

As soon as he had arrived in the country of his host, who is allied to the Christians of saint Joseph, the surrounding Indians came to greet him; some sick people dragged themselves more than 2 miles and a half, to see him; all indicated goodwill to him, in their own way.

After this first approach and this first communication, which took place through an interpreter, the Father applied himself assiduously to the study of their language, which has little in common with the Algonquin, with which he was already acquainted; and at the same time while he is a scholar, he does the office of teacher, instructing the sick people, whom he goes to seek here and there in various districts where the Indians had retired.

He goes down the whole length of the stream called Kennebec, guided by an Indian who was acquainted with the places where is fellow-countrymen lived. He finally arrives at an English settlement built upon that river, where he was well received; from there he returns up that beautiful stream to see again the sick people whom he had visited. The Abenakis, and later the Algonquins and the French, were astonished that, in so little time, he had become so familiar with that language.

Toward the middle of October, he returns to his patients. The Indian who guided him, taking him another time to that English settlement, named Kennebec (Cushnoc trading post?), had him go down as far as the sea of Acadia; where, on its coasts, he visits seven or eight English settlements, at all of which he was received with a cordiality all the more extraordinary since it was little expected. The Indian, his guide, seeing himself on the shores of the sea of Acadia in his little bark canoe, guided the Father even to Penobscot, where he found a little home of Capuchin Fathers, who embraced him with charity. The Reverend Father Ignace of Paris, their Superior, gave him all possible welcome.

After having refreshed himself some time with these good Fathers, he re-enters his bark boat and returns to the English settlements which he had visited on the way. Sir Chaste gives him provisions in abundance for his voyage, and letters for the Englishman who Commanded at Kennebec (Cushnoc trading post?); in which he declared that he had observed nothing in the Father which was not praiseworthy; that he was not inclined to trade; that the Indians rendered him this testimony; that he thought only of their instruction, and came to procure their salvation at the expense of his own life, that he admired his courage.

That Captain, having received these letters, and taken a copy of the Father's credentials, showed him all the courtesies that he could think of; and some time after, went away to Plymouth, and from there to Boston; these are two towns of new England. The Father went 2 miles higher up than Kennebec (Cushnoc trading post?), where the Indians assembled to the number of fifteen great cabins: they built him a little Chapel of boards, made in their manner. It was here that the Father, having sufficient command of their language, efficiently instructed them. He asked them three things in token of their goodwill:

The first was, to give up the liquors of Europe, from where ensues great intoxication among the Indians. The Abenakis promised to avoid these excesses and have fairly well kept their word.

The Father asked them, in the second place, to live peaceably with one another and to stop the jealousies and the quarrels which occur among those little nations.

The third evidence that the Father secured was that they should throw away their Manitou, or, rather, their Demons, or fantastic charms. There are few young men among the Indians, who have not some stone, or other thing, which they keep as a token of dependence upon the Demon, to be happy in the hunt, or in play, or in war; it is either given them by some sorcerer, or they dream that they will find it in some place, or their imagination makes them believe that the Manitou presents to them what they encounter. The Demon slips into these follies; but I can hardly believe that he communicates with them perceptibly, as he does with the sorcerers and magicians of Europe, and with some peoples of this America. Those who had some of these charms or Manitous, drew them from their pouches; some cast them away, others brought them to the Father. There were even some sorcerers or tricksters who burned their drums and other instruments of their trades; so that one no longer heard in their cabins those howlings, those cries, those commotions which they raised about their sick.

The Father remained until January in the midst of those fifteen cabins, instructing in public and private.

At the beginning of the year, when these good people were preparing themselves for their great hunt, the sorcerers or tricksters acted as fortune tellers: they proclaimed through the cabins that all those who prayed would be wretched and would soon die; that the Archbishop, what they named the Father, and all those who should keep his path, would be captured by the Iroquois, who molest this nation as well as the others. The Indians were not awed by these threats; the majority placed themselves upon the side of the Father, to have the consolation of lodging near his cabin.

So there they all were in the field; they ascend eight or ten days' journey along the river of Kennebec. They enter a great lake, where they appoint their rendezvous after their hunt. Having separated into several bands, they declared war on the Deer, the Elks, the Beavers, and other wild beasts. The Father constantly instructed his band, following it in all its expeditions.

Their hunt finished, they all met on the shores of that great lake, at the place which they had appointed. It was here that the sorcerers lost their credit, for not only did those who prayed to God incur no disaster, not only did the Father and his people not fall into the ambushes of the Iroquois, but God further favored them with a successful hunt.

After some length of stay on the shores of this lake, these good people came down to Kennebec (Cushnoc trading post?); they brought their Archbishop. The Captain of that English settlement received him the second time with the same goodwill which he had already shown him; relating to him how he had spent the Winter at Plymouth and at Boston; that he had communicated his credentials and the letter from Sir Chate to twenty-four of the foremost persons in new England, among whom had happened to be four of their most famous Ministers: and that all had unanimously approved his plan, saying that it was a laudable action to instruct the Indians.

"Gentlemen of the Company of Kennebec (Cushnoc trading post?) have given me commission," said that Captain, named Sir Hoinsland, "to tell you that, if you wish to bring here some French and build a house on the river of Kennebec, they will permit you to, gladly; and that you would not be in any way molested in your functions. If you were here," he added, "several Englishmen would come to visit you," -- intimating that there were some Catholics among the English of those regions. The Father having no order with reference to this proposition, answered that he would write to him again in due season, if the matter were judged feasible. He left that settlement about the twentieth of May, and went to visit all the places where the Indians retired; the sick -- baptized, and cured against all hope -- confessed; there was neither small nor great who did not show regret at their Father's departure. About thirty accompanied him even to Quebec, where he arrived on the fifteenth of June, full of health, contrary to the expectation of those who did not know what to think of his delay.

THE COMING OF THE ATIKAMEKW

There are many small nations back in the country, situated North of Three Rivers. One of these is called, in the Indian tongue, Atikamekw, and by the French, "the white fish," -- because the word Atikamekw means a fish, which is found in this new world, to which the French have assigned the name of "white fish" on account of its color. All these tribes make war only on animals; their life is only a continual hunt; the peace is profound in their great forests. They all assemble, each one in its own district, on certain days of the year; and although they have their own limits, if anyone advances upon the lands, or rather into the woods, of his neighbors, that occurs without quarrel, without dispute, without Jealousy. They have trade with the Hurons, and some of them with the French. Their rendezvous takes place in certain months of the year, at a spot which they have agreed upon; and there the Hurons bring them corn and meal from their country, Nets, and other small wares, which they exchange for skins of deer, elks, beavers, and other animals. Those who communicate with the French approach them once or twice in the year, by the stream called the Three Rivers, or even also by the Saguenay, which discharges itself at Tadoussac into the great river of saint Lawrence; but this route is difficult for them.

These peoples are simple, kind, candid, peaceful; they have the same superstitions as the other Indians, and the same Prophets or fortune tellers, whom we call "sorcerers" and "magicians," because there is some probability that certain among them interact with the Demons. They use drums, breathings, songs, sweats, eat-all feasts, Tabernacles for consulting the spirits of the air, pyromancy, and other such superstitions to cure the sick, to find animals in the woods, to discover if some enemy has not entered their lands, and for other similar purposes. The Atikamekw are mostly persuaded and undeceived regarding all these cheats of the Demon; part of them have become baptized, and their innocence is delightful.

These poor people having learned that the Iroquois, after having massacred a number of Indians, had plans of exterminating the French, dared not approach our settlements; but finally a squad took the resolution to ascertain in what condition our affairs were. They leave their wives and their children, two days' journey above the stream of the Three Rivers, and come secretly to reconnoiter, to see whether our settlements had not changed masters: having found the French in cheerfulness and health, they leap for gladness; they confront them and leave them at the same time. "Our wives and our children," they said, "have engaged us to go and bring them as soon as possible to confess, in case the Fathers were still alive; they will be anxious until our return." They embark again, and in a little while they bring their families, all filled with joy and satisfaction to see alive those whom rumor had placed among the dead. It is no longer only the trade of the world that brings them; they come to receive the Sacraments, to offer for baptism their newly-born children.

A certain assembly is held between the Hurons and these nations of the North; the Atikamekw were present there, this year, to the number of more than thirty canoes. We had given them letters, to be conveyed by some Hurons who happened to be at that assembly, to our Fathers who are in their country; and our Fathers in those regions had also given some to their Hurons, to be delivered to us by the Atikamekw. These good people have been faithful; they have given our letters to the Hurons, and have delivered to us those which came from our Fathers who are in that country. The Iroquois forced us to seek these wonderfully devious ways.

Sunday approaching, the Captain commands his people to make a fine and large cabin, which should be used only for prayer; the young men go after bark, and the women and the girls after branches of spruce, which are beautiful and always green. The old men, having built the Church, order all their people to clothe themselves as richly as possible, to honor prayer. No sooner said than done: they paint their faces, after their fashion, with various Colors; they take their great robes of Beavers, of Otters, of Lynxes, of black Squirrels, and of other animals, and their embellishments of porcupine quills, dyed in scarlet, are not lacking. The women put on their great bracelets, and the men their collars and crowns of wampum. The Hurons and the other tribes, seeing this display, were astonished, not knowing the object of this pomp.

These good people, concealed in the depth of the forests, have not great opportunities for Sin. Luxury, ambition, greed, or delights, do not come near their country; poverty, sufferings, cold, and hunger, banish from it those monsters. They still have their temptations and their trials; diseases, and sorcerers, or fortune tellers, afflict them.

The Iroquois, being acquainted with the entrance of their river, had laid ambushes for them on their return; and if they had started on the day which they had appointed, they would have been taken by those Barbarians, -- for the French who escorted them reported to us that they had seen the tracks of the enemy, quite new and fresh.

THE HOLY CROSS MISSION AT TADOUSSAC.

The roving Indians become dispersed in the Autumn, and toward the Spring they reassemble, some at Tadoussac, others in the places which they regard as their country. The Fathers who have charge of these Missions go to find them, to have them give account of the past, to maintain them during the present, and to animate them to hold firm for the future. Father Jean de Quen, who has had charge, for some years, of the Mission at Tadoussac, went down to it this Spring. He was received with open heart by all the Christians; but the peoples of the North, who had given him so many hopes last year, have shown themselves colder. We will soon tell the reason of this.

The Christians, seeing their Father come, rejoiced; each one gave account of what had happened during the Winter. Those to whom Books of wood had been given, that is, tokens which were to serve as memorandums for the Principal persons, so they could instruct the others upon certain of the more important points, faithfully brought these forward and told quite simply what had been committed contrary to each Chapter or each part of those Books.

A sorcerer, seeing that disease and death attached themselves more especially to the children and to others who were baptized, consults the Demon to know the cause of it. Whether the Demon indeed spoke to him, or whether his malice invented lies, he said aloud in the midst of his tabernacle, that the Manitou declared that the Faith and prayer brought death to most of those who embraced it; that the Fathers who preached to the Indians were deceived, and that one must not be astonished if they deceived those who listened to them. He said that it was not the God of the believers who governed the Earth, especially their countries, that it was he who ruled the Indians; and that they would die much oftener than usual, because they had left him.

Almost at the same time when that Demon was delivering this speech, a witch, distant more than 250 miles from Tadoussac, asserted that the Manitou had told her that the Indians who were killed this Winter near Three Rivers would be massacred, because they had left him. These poor people, terrified both by their diseases and by the threats of those sorcerers, hardly looked at the Chapel except from afar; they were not willing that their children should approach it.

I will say a few words about a journey which Father de Quen took, into the country of the Porcupine Innus. Having learned that some Christians were sick there, he had himself guided there by two Indians, with frightful hardships; here follows what he has written back to us. "I embarked on the 11th of July, in a little bark canoe; we toiled during five days, from daybreak until sunset, constantly paddling against the current, or against torrents, which made us strain all the sinews of the body to surmount them. We encountered on this journey ten falls or portages, -- that is, we disembarked ten times, to pass from one river to another, or from a too rapid current to another part of the stream that was more navigable. In these portages, some of which are 4 miles in extent; others, a mile; others, a half mile, it is necessary to carry, on one's back or head, both the boat and all one's gear, over roads which have been made only for Wild beasts. It is necessary to cut through mountains, and to cross chasms hidden in the depth of the forests.

"We three times changed rivers; the first on which we embarked is called the Saguenay. It is a deep stream, and there is no ship which it might not carry; it is 160 yards deep in several places, and usually it rises or falls from twenty to forty yards. It is quite wide; its banks are scarped with frightful mountains, which gradually decrease in height until as far as 35 or 50 miles from its mouth, where it receives in its bosom another stream, larger than itself, which seems to come from the West. We sailed another 25 miles beyond that meeting of waters, which forms a beautiful lake; the winds which pass over this river are cold, even in the midst of Summer, because it is lined with mountains and is open to the Northwest and frequently to the North.

"From this river we passed to another, called Kinougamiou, which flows into the Saguenay with frightful currents and over frightful precipices; we made 3 miles, crossing a mountain and a valley, to overtake it in a navigable place. It is less rapid than the Saguenay, winding to the West, to the South, and to the Northwest; it forms a lake which is more than 37 miles long, and almost a mile wide.

"Leaving this stream, we went through the woods, to seek the river called by the Indians Kinougamichich; it has its bed in a land or flat valley, which looks to the North. Its waters are deep, wide, and quite calm; they spread out in some places through alders and brushwood, which annoyed us to the last degree.

"We had navigated against the current of the water in the two preceding rivers; we began here to go down into the lake Piouagamik, on the banks of which dwells the Porcupine Innus, which we were seeking. This lake is so large that one hardly sees its banks; it seems to be round in shape. It is deep and full of fish; they fish here for pike, perch, salmon, trout, dories, whitefish, carp, and many other kinds.

"It is surrounded by a flat country, terminating in high mountains, distant 7, 10, or 12 miles from its shores. It is fed by the waters of about fifteen rivers, which serve as highways for the small nations which are back in the country, to come to fish in this lake, and to maintain the communication and friendship which they have among themselves. We paddled on this lake, and finally we arrived at the place where were the Indians of the Porcupine Innus. These good people, having perceived us, left their cabins, to see the first Frenchman who has ever set foot in their land.

They received me in their cabins as a man who had come from Heaven; one gave me a little piece of fish dried in the smoke; another, a little smoked meat. The Captain made me a gift of a Castipitagan of Beaver, that is, a skin of that animal, open only at the neck, so that one might say that the Beaver is quite entire. 'That,' he said to me, 'my Father, is to soothe the fatigues of your journey, we cannot express to you the joy that we have at your coming. One thing saddens us -- you come at a poor season; we have no nets for Catching fish, and the waters are too deep for taking the Beaver.' There must be no mention, in that country, of bread or wine, or of a bed or a house."

The Father remained three days with them, receiving the confessions of the Christians, consoling the sick, and preparing the old men for baptism for the next Summer, assuring them that, if they were not brought to Tadoussac, he would come to find them even in their cabins, which gladdened them to the last degree. "we will make for you," they said to him, "a little Church or house of prayers, in which to celebrate Mass." This Church will be built in two hours; ten or twelve poles, and four or five rolls of bark, will compose the whole building.

One thing rejoiced and astonished the Father, he found a great Cross at the entrance to the lake, which the Christians had erected there, to go and offer their little devotions before it.

Finally, after having given all the consolation that he could to that little flock, he embarked again with his two Pilots, and in three days they did what they had done in five: but these were full days, for they voyaged from three o'clock in the morning until nine or ten o'clock in the evening. Their provision was a little smoked meat, or a little Indian corn, without other cheer than pure water.

If the torrents are difficult to surmount going up, they are dangerous in going down: for it needs only to miss the stroke of a paddle, to lose life. Our Lord preserved them, and restored them to Tadoussac.

THE CAPTURE AND DEATH OF AN IROQUOIS; AND SOME OTHER OBSERVATIONS

THE Iroquois appearing in various places on the banks of our great stream, a squad of French and Indians gave them chase. It is difficult to overtake those Barbarians, because they are always on the watch at the points or upon elevated headlands discovering from afar the vessels and their Pilots to surprise them, or to combat them if they are in small force; but, if their forces are unequal, they stay concealed in the woods without presenting themselves, unless through bravado, when they see well that their legs give them the advantage over our weapons. But the time will come when the French, trained for war in the manner of the Indians, will easily find means to stop those runners.

Not long ago, 20 of these cannibals giving chase to some of our canoes, a sailboat of our group went to attack them, and compelled them to go ashore, but not to give way and flee. Having placed themselves behind the shelter of their canoes, they promptly discharge their muskets; and while our French were seeking an advantageous place to disembark, those Barbarians in four minutes erected a little wooden fort, into which they shut themselves with the resolution to fight stubbornly. They were valiantly attacked; but they sustained the shock with unexpected courage and dexterity. However, believing themselves too weak to resist the assaults which they must expect on the following day, they asked that there be no firing on either side during the night; and meanwhile they escaped stealthily, before daybreak. The Sun appearing, our people found no more enemies to combat, though they made search all about their fortification. A young Frenchman, filled with more courage than physical strength, seeking to follow the enemy by their trail, found one of them concealed in the hollow of a tree. Being questioned, he says that he could have escaped as well as the others, but that, his brother having been wounded, he had concealed himself to aid him. He says that there were seven Iroquois severely wounded, and that he believes that two were killed on the spot; their bodies have not been seen; it may be that they have carried them away to burn them, according to their custom. There were found in their redoubt some muskets, much heavier and far longer than ours. Two Indians of our band were killed, and six Frenchmen wounded, one of whom died some time later. They were taken to the Hospital of God at Quebec, which assists to the utmost the Colony, both French and Indian, and were there nursed and aided with the greatest care.

Those who put arms in the hands of these Indians would deserve the punishment due to all the crimes which the greed of the one group and the fury of the other have engendered.

This poor prisoner was taken first to Three Rivers; and from there was brought to Quebec, to be delivered to the Governor. The governor gave him, a few days later, to an Indian Captain, with orders not to torture him as long as is their habit, or reduce him to a filthy nakedness, or make prey of him like dogs. This poor man was brought to Sillery on the sixteenth of October of this year, 1647; we had already begun to instruct him, so he could die a Christian. He was brought into our little house, and we forcibly represented to him the torments and the rewards of the other life. This poor man astonished us all; he gave marked evidence of his belief, and asked pardon of God for his transgressions.

As soon as he was baptized, he was delivered into he hands of the Indian Captain to whom the Governor had given him, to exact Justice from him. This poor man, under the stress of his torments, exclaimed many times: "Jesous, Jesous." He offered no insult to those who were tormenting him. It is the custom of these wretched nations to make the prisoners sing, while in their tortures; this man used no bravado, or any threat but uttered in his song only these few words: "Antaiok," -- the name, in the Indian tongue, of the Frenchman who captured him, "Antaiok is the cause of my going to Heaven; I am glad of it."

Before this victim was led to the sacrifice, he was questioned on various points, to which his answers were as follows: Father Isaac Jogues, he said, was not killed by the general consent of the three Iroquois villages; he was not beaten or stripped, but simply struck down. We attach more Credence to the letters sent by the Dutch than to the words of this prisoner, because we have strong suspicions that it was he himself who killed the Father, since a Huron, who has escaped from that country, having seen him in the hands of the French, said to him, "Comrade, what can you expect from those who have captured you, having unluckily slain a person whom they loved?" Also, when the interpreter asked him how the man who had massacred the Father's companion was called, he named him without delay; but when he was asked the name of him who had taken the Father's life, he hung his head, without saying anything. He was urged during two days, but opened not his lips: finally, he uttered the name of an Iroquois. He added that that good woman whom Father Isaac Jogues called his aunt, and from whom he had received some aid, said to the murderers, "It is I whom you kill; what will the two other villages say, whom you have not consulted about this death, so sudden and so rash?"

He was asked what had become of the two Frenchmen who had been taken at Montreal. He answered that they had not appeared in their country, and that their scalps alone had been brought there; he named the Iroquois who had taken and slain them. He said that three Hurons had been taken at Montreal, and that their lives had been spared; that two had escaped, and that the third had said to his two companions who wished to take him away: "I love my mother too well; she has saved my life, and I cannot leave her." This was an Iroquois woman to whom they had given him, in place of her children and relatives killed in war.

During the first war with the Iroquois, there was, in Montreal, a female dog which never failed to go scouting every day, taking her little ones with her; and if one of them acted stubbornly, she would bite it, to make it go on. Further, if one of the pups turned back in the midst of its run, she would fall upon it at her return, as if by way of punishment. Besides, if she scented, while on the patrol, some Iroquois, she would turn short, moving directly homeward, barking, and announcing that the enemy was not far away. Her natural inclination was for hunting squirrels; but her constancy in making the round every day as faithfully as men, beginning now on one side, now on the other; her perseverance in directing her little ones, and in punishing them when they failed to follow; and her dependability in returning immediately when the scent of the enemies caught her sense of smell, all these caused astonishment.

The fear of the enemies has kept away, this year, the Indians from Montreal: there have appeared there only six Hurons, three of whom have been taken by the Mohawks, the fourth has been lost, the two others have made a narrow escape. These good people cannot help going hunting: it must also be acknowledged that that is their pleasure and their life. Having gone away some miles from the settlement, a Frenchman who accompanied them, while aiding them to build their cabin, wounded one of them with a heavy blow of the axe, which he dealt inadvertently upon his hand. All three are astounded; they wrap up the wound as best they can, proceeding as quickly as possible toward the settlement, to have that poor man cared for.

While advancing homeward, they found on the snow a trail freshly trodden by a troop of Iroquois, who were coming to Montreal, on the hunt for men. "Ah! now I plainly see," said that poor wounded man, "that this blow is dealt by God; it is not an accident; his goodness has caused me to lose a hand, to save the lives of all three of us. We are not yet in safety, we may encounter the enemy, whose tracks and trail we have seen: my only regret is that I have not confessed for a long time."

Our Lord preserved them from evil encounter. That poor man, although sufficiently courageous otherwise, could not endure the hand of the Surgeon, who caused him pain, for the wound was severe, and in a sensitive place. They reproached him that he had no courage. "My arm," he said, "has no sense; it shrinks away when it feels pain. Do not you others do the same, in your sufferings?" The interpreter answered him that in France they bound those who could not endure the cure of their wounds. "Very well," he said; "since I am among the French, I must adapt myself to the French fashion; bind me, and make me keep your customs." In fact, they seized him so effectually that he could no longer move either his hand or his arm: but never did this good man take offense, imagining that he must adapt himself to the French practices, since he lived with them. He endured for several days that severe treatment, without giving any sign of impatience.

His companion, unable to remain at rest, stole away to go and kill some beavers or Canadian geese. Approaching a little pond, he saw a quantity of game arise in great confusion; he suspected that it was beaten up by some hunters. Having slipped into the rushes, he heard some cries or songs of birds, which were answering one another; fear seized him, for it is the custom of the Iroquois and other Indians to call one another by the cries of screech-owls during the night, and by the warbling of other birds during the day. Advancing a little further, he perceived 7 or 8 Iroquois, with muskets on their shoulders, hunting on the shores of that pond. As soon as they had taken one route, he hurried to the opposite one, to put himself in a place of safety. The hunt for beasts is often a passion, but the hunt for men is a madness among these Indians.

This Huron is one of the most excellent and most agreeable characters that one could meet. He puts himself in all the positions in the world to please his hosts; he acts the soldier, the plowman, the artisan, so naively that he is the amusement of all the French; and often, when they laugh at him, he banters with them so cleverly that they cannot take offense at him.

THE SETTLEMENT AT MISCOU.

THE Island of Miscou is about 17 miles round; it is situated in the great Gulf of saint Lawrence, upon the 48th degree of latitude and the three hundred and seventh of longitude. Its soil is not good; the waters are not wholesome there; the woods there are neither as tall nor as beautiful as on the mainland; it abounds in partridges and in hares; there were formerly Elks, but they have all been exterminated. It seems that it is important only for the trade in Elk skins; these are obtained in abundance from the Indians who inhabit three great bays of the mainland, not far distant from this island. Fishing is plentiful there; cod are found in abundance, and every year, as also in the neighboring harbors, many ships are laden with these fish, carrying them to France, Portugal, Italy, and many other regions.

We began, in 1635, to build a settlement there; and Fathers Charles Turgis and Charles du Marche were sent there to administer the Sacraments to twenty-three Frenchmen who were to lay its foundations, and to observe the prospects that we might have for the conversion of the Indians.

Sufferings were almost the only occupation of all these poor people; sickness prostrated them, and death removed a great part of them. Father du Marche was compelled to return to France; Father Turgis resisted for some time, consoling his little fold, hearing some in confession, strengthening others through the Sacraments of the Eucharist and the Anointing of the Sick, and burying those whom death was slaying. But finally toil, and the infection that he contracted beside those poor languishing people, prostrated him as well as the others: yet he must resist, even to the last sigh. He has himself borne to the sick and beside the dying; he animates, strengthens, and encourages them; and after having buried the Captain, the Agent, and the Surgeon, all the Officers, and 8 or 9 workmen besides, he died there himself, leaving only one person deathly ill, whom he holily prepared for that passage before yielding up his soul.

Father Jacques de la place and Father Nicolas Gondoin -- sent the following year into those areas for the purpose of establishing a mission on the Mainland, to which a part of the Indians might retire -- found the French settlement quite desolated; there were left in it only nine persons out of twenty-three, and so weak that the Fathers must remain there, to assist these. We have been told that some Indians, touched with compassion, took the dead bodies from their beds to give them burial, the French not having the strength to do so. Others, more wicked and barbarous, seeing everyone prostrated, tried to plunder the warehouse; but the energy and skill of those who had recovered from the malady prevented them from doing this. Whatever be the cause of these maladies, it is not long since they were banished from that island. Father Gondoin was compelled to leave it; Father Claude Quentin lost his health there, which he came to seek at Quebec after having buried a young lad who assisted him. Father Jean Dolbeau became crippled there in all his limbs; and when they carried him back to France, he encountered Paradise on the way: fire, having caught in the gunpowder of the vessel which bore him, sent him to Heaven.

In 1643, Father Martin Lyonne, going to the Hurons, passed by Miscou and stopped there seeing that Father Andre Richard remained a lone through the departure of his companion, who had become a paralytic. This good Father soon followed the path and footsteps of the others; he fell sick the following year, in May, and was cured only in September. We intended to send him back to France, so he might not be exposed to that somewhat harsh air, fearing that the following Winter might carry him off; but, having showed much resolution to die in Canada, he remained there, and has since enjoyed perfect health, which he has used for the spiritual assistance of the French, and for the conversion of the Indians. He seems to have buried the diseases, for since that time they have not appeared in Miscou.

Father Andre Richard, having proved to be the hardiest of all the Fathers of our Jesuits sent to that land of troubles, applied himself with energy to the study of the Indians' language; he associated with them, followed them, and showed them so much goodwill that they conceived an affection for him. Father Lyonne has assisted him; Father de la Place, having joined them, has taken his share in the work; and all three have laid the foundations of a little Church.

the Abbot de la Magdelaine, Chanter of the Saint Chappelle at Paris, compelled by a Christian fervor, and wishing to cooperate in the conversion of the Indians, gave to these good Fathers the means to build a residence on Chaleur Bay, at the Port of Nipigigwi, where he has, with Gentlemen of the Company of Miscou, assisted them. Before that abode was ready, the Fathers chose to live there, to assist the Indians who usually retire to that place. The snows not being deep enough, during the Winter of 1644, to obstruct the wild beasts, a part of those poor people were dying of hunger. Three cabins, composed of twenty-five persons, came to throw themselves into the arms of the Fathers, who found it necessary to save, from their little store, provisions with which to relieve the hunger of so many people. They have since then built little houses in the French fashion, to lodge some families who have been instructed and baptized through their care and diligence.

The Superior of all our Missions sent back, in September, Fathers Jaques de la Place and Andre Richard to Winter with them; but they had to cross over to France, for lack of a barque to convey them from Isle Perce (where was anchored the ship which carried them) as far as their new residence, built among the Indians of Chaleur Bay.

YEAR 1648
LETTER OF FATHER JEAN DE BREBEUF TO THE REVEREND FATHER VINCENT CARAFFA, GENERAL OF THE JESUITS, AT ROME. 1648

Reverend Father,

I think it superfluous to write to you concerning the state of this our Huron mission since Reverend Father Paul Ragueneau, our superior, has fully, as I suppose, discharged that duty. In one aspect, the condition of our affairs appears to be most excellent -- because at home the utmost peace and tranquility flourish among ours and those of our household, and all apply themselves most diligently to piety; and because the interests of Christianity make satisfactory progress, the Christians increasing, not only in number but also in virtue. Besides, so many opportunities for promulgating the gospel have disclosed themselves that in a short time the faith would make great progress, did not the extreme lack of laborers hinder our efforts. For this reason, we urgently request that the Reverend Father Provincial send many laborers. I further note, as tending to the stronger condition of our spiritual affairs, prosperity in things worldly; for although, in the past year, nothing whatever was brought to us from France, we still up to this time abound, and more than abound.

On the other hand, there are many and considerable influences which not only hinder our work, but seem even to threaten the ruin of the whole mission. Some of these are common to us with all the Hurons, especially the enemy, whom we call by the name of Iroquois; they, on one hand, close the roads and obstruct trade, and, on the other, devastate this region by frequent massacre; they fill every place with fear. Other hindrances, however, are altogether peculiar to us, notably, the hatred toward us of certain infidel Hurons, which has grown to the degree that a few days ago they killed one of our servants. They were ready to offer the same treatment to us, if opportunity had occurred. However, God has already turned these difficulties into good, and abundant satisfaction has been made to us by all the Hurons for the homicide perpetrated. And the faith, far from receiving any detriment from this, has rather increased.

Jean De Brebeuf.

From the Residence of Ste. Marie, among the Hurons, in New France.

June 2, 1648.

NEW FRANCE, IN 1647 AND 1648. TO REVEREND FATHER ESTIENNE CHARLET, PROVINCIAL OF THE JESUITS IN THE PROVINCE OF FRANCE.

Reverend Father,

Here is our annual tribute, which is somewhat larger than that of last year; and besides, we have gathered it not only from among the neighboring nations, but also from those more distant.

The Iroquois, the common enemies of the French and of the Indians who are their allies, have this year lost more than they have gained; that, in spite of their ambushes and weapons, we sent assistance to the upper countries, at least, we think that four of our Fathers, who had been knocking at the door for a year or two, have entered the Huron country with 20 French; and that they who called to us for aid expected a larger number of Gospel laborers. That is the only thing that they desire and need, and the lack of it will cause them to lose opportunities of extending their work, and prevent us who are down here from continuing some Missions that we had begun.

From Quebec, 15th of October, 1648.

Jerome Lalemant.

THE ARRIVAL OF THE SHIPS.

As soon as Sir Charles de Montmagny became aware of the wishes of the King and the Queen, and learned on the arrival of the ships that their Majesties had appointed Sir d' Ailleboust to the Government of the country throughout the whole extent of the Saint Lawrence River, he not only received the order with honor and respect, but he further showed a generous magnanimity by making all necessary preparations for the reception of the new Governor. The Governor was afterward received by all orders of the country, who paid him their compliments. Even the Indians wished to take part in it; and they delivered a short speech to him through the mouth of one of our Jesuits, who accompanied them.

The first vessel that brought us consolation through the return of Father Barthelemy Vimont, and the coming of three good Hospital Nuns, which caused great rejoicing in their house -- also brought us sorrow through the number of sick persons on board, who were carried to that house of mercy. It seldom happens that sickness breaks out in the ships that come to this country; if the voyage be somewhat rough on the sea, it does not generally affect bodily health. Some infection caught in France or the great heat that they experienced near the Azores, or the spoiling of badly selected food, or all these things together, brought on some epidemic in this case, which caused the death of some, and suffering to a good many others. Sir de Repentigny was carried off in less than twelve days. The youngest of the three Nuns, called Mother Catherine de St. Augustin, was at the gates of death, but God restored her health. Her fervor led her to desire trials with affection; and her father, who feared the danger, so strongly opposed her departure that he presented a petition to the Parliament of Rouen to prevent her leaving the Convent of Mercy at Bayeux, where she was a Nun. This poor little Dove was in great distress, when her father happened to cast his eye on the Report of last year; and he was so deeply affected, in reading of the horrible tortures suffered by the good Father Isaac Jogues that, what would apparently confirm him most stubbornly in his opposition, caused him to relent.

We received one piece of information highly advantageous to many Indians of the upper nations. The Princess has declared herself the Mother and foundress of the Mission called that "of the Apostles" in the nation known as the Petun nation. She wishes to contribute to the conversion of those peoples.

WHAT PASSED BETWEEN THE FRENCH AND THE INDIANS, THEIR ALLIES, AND THE IROQUOIS.

ON the eighteenth of May, two canoes full of Iroquois crossed the great River in sight of the fort of Montreal. They coolly landed on the Island, and, without showing any fear, seven or eight of their band went straight to the French quarter. Sir de Maisonneuve, the Governor of the Island, sent out some soldiers to reconnoiter. When the Indians observed them, they halted, and made signs that they wished a parley. Two Interpreters were sent, and remained with them a long time. "We have no war with the French," they said; "we war only on the Algonquins who alone are our enemies. Let us forget the past, and renew peace more strongly than ever." Our Interpreters were delighted with this fine speech, and reciprocally assured them of the sincerity of our thoughts, and the kindness of our hearts. They became so confident that two Iroquois passed in among the group of French, while one of the two interpreters went to join the Iroquois, for both sides spoke to one another only from a distance.

Sir de Maisonneuve, who feared a surprise, went with some soldiers to the spot where this parley was going on; and, after having told the Interpreter who was with the Iroquois that he should try to escape on the following night, he took with him the two Iroquois with the intention of sending them to our Governor after the Interpreter should escape.

The parley being ended, each one retired to his own quarters. The Interpreter passed the night with the Iroquois, and the two Iroquois with the French. Mutual inquiries were made for news; the Iroquois asked what had become of one of their warriors, who had been taken prisoner by the French in the previous Autumn. The Interpreter did not wish to tell them how the poor wretch had been burned, so he attempted to turn the conversation and to evade their question; but, when the Iroquois persisted, he retorted: "And you, tell us what has become of Father Jogues and a Frenchman, who went to your country confiding in the word of the people." The Iroquois, who were more cunning than they seemed, changed their tune at this retort. "Let us speak of pleasant things," one of them replied. "You will soon see at your gates the oldest and most prominent men of our country, who will come to ask the French for peace; and to prove their sincerity, they are bringing some Dutchman with them."

On the following day, as the Interpreter had not accomplished his escape, to get him back, we had to give up the two hostages whom we had seized. When the Iroquois received their people, they felt such joy that they approached our French unarmed, except one alone, who was more distrustful than the others. As we were more numerous than they, and well armed, it would have been easy to capture them all, had we wished to do so. They gave us a present of their game, while Sir de Maisonneuve had them taste some French bread; and as a proof of their goodwill toward us, they stole the nets that had been set in the river at a spot quite close to the fort; this was their last goodbye.

One must never expect the Iroquois to keep their word, unless they be influenced by some motive of fear or of hope, because they have no Religion, and their government is not such that, when an individual kills a Frenchman for his pleasure, he need fear any punishment. If we had a considerable number of Iroquois in our hands, and by delivering them up could obtain that the children of the principal men of the country be brought to us, the fear that the older ones would have of our doing an injury to the little ones would prevent them from attacking us. But so long as they consider us incapable of doing them any harm, or of procuring them any great advantage, our kindness will not protect us from their treachery and cruelty.

On the thirtieth of the same month of May, some French canoes went to visit their nets that were set on the other side of the great River, opposite the fort of Three Rivers. An Iroquois, who lay hidden in the forest, observed their sailboat and swam out to it. As he was alone, he was received without any distrust; and he did his best to explain, by signs, that he was a friend of the French. A Huron, who had become an Iroquois in his captivity, appeared on the bank and called out, asking to be taken with his comrade. They approached him, held out their hands to him, and took him on board the sailboat, where he displayed much affection toward the French, who did the same to him, but in much more innocent kindness.

While these compliments were going on, a canoe made its appearance, paddled by three Iroquois, their companions. Our people spoke to them, received them kindly, offered them fish, and invited them to visit the French with their comrades; but they still kept aloof. When those who were in the sailboat saw this, they withdrew, bringing back those two voluntary prisoners to Sir de la Poterie, the Governor of Three Rivers; he put them in a secure place, and ordered those who were in the sailboat to return at once with a reinforcement, to attempt to attract the three other Iroquois. They were found at the same spot where they had been left. As they did not think that there were any Indians with us, they were almost on the point of following us, when a Huron happened to speak, and that frightened them so much that they fled. Two Hurons and an Algonquin, who had slipped in among our people, started in pursuit. The Algonquin caught one, whom he wished to take alive; but, meeting with too much resistance, he killed him and tore off his scalp, which he brought back in token of his victory. The two Others escaped into the woods.

After several questions had been put to the two prisoners, the Huron confessed that after having hunted near Richelieu from February to that time, they had resolved before returning to their country to come and break the heads of some Algonquins, if they should meet any. I do not think that they would have spared the French, had any fallen into their hands. As to the Iroquois, he protested that, as he owed his life to the French, -- because, when he was captured by an Algonquin Captain, Sir Charles de Montmagny had redeemed him and set him at liberty in the treaty of peace, he protested that from that time he had felt love and respect for Onontio and for all the French; and that he had received a wound in the arm -- of which he showed the scar -- for having opposed him who unfortunately had slain Father Isaac Jogues. He added that, after the death of the Father, he had become the protector of the Frenchman who accompanied him; that he had forbidden him to go far from him, because he saw that his life was not safe; but that the young man, he said, had gone to get something that he had brought with him, and was killed with a hatchet by those who watched him. "I have always intended," he added, "to give you information of that treachery; but I have been unable to do so until now, when I have cast myself into your lands."

The Iroquois would have gloried in massacring us if they could. It is one of their stratagems of war, when they meet bands composed of several nations, to call out aloud that they are at war only with one of those nations, and therefore they ask the others to remain inactive during the battle.

On the twentieth of June, two canoes full of Iroquois crossed the great River at midnight and landed a little belong Three Rivers. Some of the boldest approached stealthily and quietly, to see if they could enter a place where a Frenchman lodged. The Frenchman awoke, and called out in a loud voice: "Who goes there?" The Iroquois were alarmed, and withdrew. But, as they were at a distance of only about a gunshot from the fort, the sentry discovered them, and, finding that they did not answer his challenge, he notified the Corporal, who, suspecting that they were Iroquois, brought the voluntary prisoner up to the bastion. He spoke in his own language and was heard by his countrymen. "I am alive," he said to them. "The French treat me like a friend; there is nothing to fear." On hearing these words, they asked that a sailboat be sent to them. This was promptly done; still they did not dare to approach it closely; but the chief of the band threw himself into the water to join the French. He was kindly received, and taken to the fort with his countryman, whose feet were fettered; he hid the irons at first, for fear of frightening him.

When they were both in the guard-house, and had been given something to eat, he opened his robe and showed the other the marks of his captivity. When his comrade saw those iron garters, he smiled, but it was not with the best of feeling. They were allowed to converse at will; they did not tell us what the first part of their speech was, but here is the conclusion: "Our band," said the newcomer, "consists of a hundred men, four of whom are elders, and among the most notable of our country. If you will give my comrade his liberty, or if you will take him in a good sailboat to our people, he will bring back some of them with him." His suggestion was carried out.

The prisoner was accompanied by two well-armed sailboats, and, as a mark of our confidence, he was allowed to enter the camp of his people, from where, after a long parley, he returned, accompanied by two of his countrymen who voluntarily came with him to the fort of the French. We were therefore in possession of four voluntary prisoners. When they were questioned more at leisure, it was seen that there was deceit in their words, for they admitted that the band consisted of only twenty-nine men, among whom there was no elder nor any man empowered to negotiate; that the rumor of the coming of the elders for the purpose of negotiating peace was false; and that the Iroquois should not be trusted. Still it was considered advisable that one of the four should return to his own country, to inform the chief men among the Iroquois of the detention of the three others, so they would not commit any foul deed against the French and their allies.

When the time came to choose which of the four should be set free, each one tried to confer that honor upon his companion; not one would accept it for himself; each one wished to risk his life with his comrades, whom they considered in danger among the French. Owing to the uncertainty of success in this matter, they finally condemned the youngest to enjoy that liberty. He therefore embarked with the first prisoner, to be conducted by our French to his countrymen, who received him with open arms. But when he saw his comrade return to the French, according to his word, he left his people and accompanied him, saying that he wished to share the fortune of those with whom he had just risked himself; that, besides, those who were returning to their country had tongues, and could speak as well as he.

On the third of July, the Huron who had surrendered to the French with our first prisoner, told some of his countrymen that he was going to Montreal to get some beaver skins that he had deposited in the hands of the French. This opportunity was gladly seized for informing Sir de Maisonneuve of the inroads of our enemies, and of the detention of the four prisoners. But that deceitful Indian did not go far before he met another band of Iroquois, whom he was seeking. He told them that the four voluntary prisoners were badly treated by the French, and were sure to lose their lives. After so black and treacherous a falsehood, on the following day, an Algonquin discovered the tracks of the enemy; he notified Sir de la Poterie, who warned the inhabitants by the bell and by the discharge of the cannon, the usual signal for all to be on their guard.

Five Hurons who were nearest the spot where the enemies were already in Conflict with two of our Frenchmen in charge of some cattle, ran up on hearing the voices and clamor of the combatants; they joined them and withstood the assault of more than eighty men. At the sound of the fight, two armed sailboats were sent by water but, before they could reach the scene of the combat, the Iroquois had already killed one Frenchman and a Huron, and taken two French and two Hurons prisoners. Still, they were so terrified when they saw two of their people fall upon the spot, slain by the hand of one Frenchman, and two others wounded, that they fled, although they were at least ten to one. One of the two French prisoners was a nephew of Sir de la Poterie, who had wandered a little too far while hunting, and had been caught.

The two Huron captives are not baptized; as to the French who are prisoners, there is strong evidence of their having led a good life. They are, still, somewhat to blame for having exposed themselves too much, knowing the enemy as they did. When our four voluntary prisoners heard of this defeat, they considered their own lives forfeited, as they would have regarded ours under similar circumstances. "Dispatch us," they said; "we are dead; do not make us linger in pain." Some of them asked to be instructed before being put to death; but they were told that we were not so hasty in our judgments and actions as the Indians generally are.

Here is another alarm. On the fourteenth of the same month, saint Bonaventure's day, a man appeared on the other side of the village of Three Rivers, waving a blanket in the air, as if he wanted someone to go to his assistance. A sailboat was manned, but as it took too long to suit him, he made a small raft on which he embarked and proceeded straight toward those who were going to reconnoiter, calling out in French: Allons, allons! venez, venez! -- "Come along! come, come!" on hearing these words, they thought that it was one of our two Frenchmen who had escaped; but finally they found that it was a young Huron, named Armand, who, through having been at our Seminary, speaks a little French. He had been captured the previous year, and taken to the Iroquois country, where he endured horrible tortures. As he is well known to the French, they received and embraced him affectionately.

After having briefly answered the most pressing questions of the French, he said: "Take me to the house of prayer, and bring me a Father; I am anxious to confess." After his Confession, he exclaimed, "I am free! Ah! how long I have desired to free myself from the weight of my sins!" And then, changing his tone, he said in quite a joyful accent: "Since we have relieved the mind, let us think of the body. If you will give me some dinner, you will oblige me. I have eaten nothing for twenty-four hours." God knows how cheerfully we gave him some. Here is the news we have received from his lips:

1. That he had escaped from a band of Iroquois consisting of a hundred men, who held both sides of the river for 7 miles below our fort.

2. That about two weeks before, at a distance of two days' journey from their own country, they had met the comrades of our voluntary prisoners; that band had told them that they were going to inform the country of the kind treatment that we gave four of their warriors who were in our hands; and that therefore these fresh troops had changed their war-like plans into a desire to prevent any harm being done to their comrades, and, for that purpose, had taxed themselves for the quantity of wampum beads that were needed to make up four collars which were to be presented to those who had the prisoners in their hands.

3. Now that that plan was altered through their meeting, within eight days, those who were taking away our two Frenchmen whom they held captive; that that band was angry with us through the deceit of a Huron renegade. That treacherous Indian asserted that he had been commissioned by our prisoners to go and tell their relatives to consider them as dead, so badly were they treated by the French. Armand could not refrain from giving him the lie. "I know the French well," he said; "they are people who keep their word, and who abhor cruelty."

4. He reported to us that our two prisoners still had their clothes on when he had met them; that only some of their nails had been torn out; that he had asked the taller of them if he would like to write to Three Rivers, and that he himself had prepared some bark that serves as paper, and had made some ink in his own fashion; that the Frenchman had in fact written, and had given him the letter, but their Captain wished to hold it, for fear that the Huron might, on account of it, seize the opportunity to escape. He added that they who conducted our French talked of keeping them alive, if we kept the Iroquois. God grant that they remember that promise; for they take so much pleasure in tormenting captives that there are rewards for those who display the most cruelty toward them, and the greatest butchers are best rewarded among this people.

Finally this good young man told us that his band was to go down secretly to Quebec to surprise our Christian Indians; and that they have no intention of sparing the French, if they can entrap any.

After all the above news had been told, the four Iroquois prisoners asked Sir de la Poterie to permit one of them to go and see these new warriors, to persuade them of the wrong impressions that the wretched Huron renegade had conveyed to them. They said that by this means the hostile acts that they might yet commit against the French would be averted; and that, if he who should be delegated did not return, the three others might be killed. This proposition was accepted, and a canoe was given to the eldest of the prisoners who went straight to his people, and, after having spoken to them, he returned at night. He called out before the door of his prison, and when he had entered, he said that when the Iroquois perceived him, they posted themselves on both sides of the river to surprise him; and they would probably have done him an injury, had he not made himself known by his voice, by his name, and by his songs.

"When they recognized me," he said, "they were seized with astonishment; but they were still more surprised when I assured them that my companions had suffered no more harm than I. Then they railed against the treacherous Huron who had given them wrong ideas of the French. Seeing them so well disposed, I told them that the best way to deliver us from your hands was to stop all hostile acts against the French, and to bring back their prisoners as soon as possible. Finally I told them that I was pledged to return and I took my leave after they had first promised me to follow faithfully the advice that I gave them. Besides they asked the Captain of the French to send them provisions, and to order a cannon to be fired on my arrival at the fort to let them know that I have arrived safely, and have not come across any Algonquins on my return. They were so afraid of that, that they gave me a musket with which to defend myself."

Sir de la Poterie had the cannon fired; but he did not deem it advisable to send them food. On the following day two canoes detached themselves from their main body, came before the fort, just beyond the range of the cannon, and asked for food. Their comrades hurled a thousand insults at them from the top of a bastion, reproaching them with not caring for them, because they did not go and get the two French prisoners who alone could set them free. I cannot positively assert that those voluntary prisoners had not some secret arrangement with their people, and some desire to make us fall into their ambushes. It is probable that their going and coming, and their long parleys, were not always harmless, especially since they write to us from the Huron country that the Iroquois who were captured there had stated that it was their intention to surprise the fort of Three Rivers this year; and that, in their songs, their imprecations were directed equally against the French and the Algonquins. In any case, they awaited the misfortune that they did not foresee. The following Chapter will tell you of it.

On the twenty-eighth of the same month of July, twelve or thirteen Iroquois lay in ambush at Montreal, in the corner of a wood adjoining a meadow where some mowers were cutting and gathering hay, while other men were cutting down the brushwood. Suddenly the report of some musket shots was heard, which brought down a Frenchman; and then the Indians, after giving a loud yell, were observed running as fast as they could to cut off the others. But our people were not frightened; they seized their arms, and fired three shots at those who showed themselves, causing one or two to drop, who were soon dragged into the wood by their comrades. This prompt resistance so astonished the deceitful foes that they disappeared in an instant. The poor Frenchman who was killed was one of the gentlest and best men of that settlement. You may judge whether those whom I mentioned at the beginning of this Chapter were so innocent when they promised wonders to the Interpreters of Montreal.

THE ARRIVAL OF THE HURONS, AND OF THE DEFEAT OF SOME IROQUOIS.

ON the seventeenth day of July of this year, 1648, about a hundred Iroquois -- who had no wish to return to their own country without striking some blow worthy of notice -- approached to within cannon-range of the fort of Three Rivers. Some Hurons, among those who dwell in our settlements through fear of their enemies, joined our French, and, with a small group of Algonquins, went to meet them. When the Iroquois saw us advancing, they halted, and made signs that they wished to confer with us peaceably: and, at the same time, some of them came forward between the two parties, to speak to us; our people, to the same number, approached them. They asked us to give or sell them some provisions. We replied that, if they would go and get their French prisoners, they would receive every satisfaction. They pretended to be pressed by hunger, but we have since learned that these appearances were assumed to surprise us, for we found more than eighty sacks of Indian corn in their fort. When they found that we were on our guard, they withdrew, dissatisfied. As they were turning away, a Huron, who was a captive with their band, recognized a countryman among our group; he approached him quietly, and whispered to him that we were lost; that in a day or two we would be invited to a parley, and be surrounded on all sides; and that the Iroquois were preparing their weapons for that purpose. After receiving that warning, we kept a vigilant watch. At night, the first of our voluntary prisoners who was often allowed liberty to go and see his countrymen, our enemies, returned from their camp, and told us on their behalf that we were not to place any reliance on certain false rumors that some evil-disposed persons might spread.

As they had observed their Huron speaking with ours, they suspected that their plot was discovered; therefore, wishing to conceal it better, they promised that on the next day they would send two of their people to our fort to transact business; but they asked us to send them back when we should have heard them. They half kept their word, for when our prisoner went to see them, he returned with only one who said that he was a relative of Sir Cousture who was formerly a captive in the country of those barbarians.

At the same time that this new negotiator was preparing to return, some canoes appeared paddling to the North of the great river, along the banks where the French are settled; and at the same moment, on the South bank the Iroquois were observed embarking in numbers and paddling with all their might in pursuit of those two canoes. The bell was sounded; the French and the Indians armed themselves in an instant, and hurried to their assistance as fast as they could. But when our people came close to the spot where they had observed those canoes, they suddenly heard a great discharge of many muskets, without being able to discern whether it was a real fight or a feint; for all this passed in the woods. Remembering the warning that had been given them, they thought that it was a stratagem and retraced their steps. Hardly had they reached their post when a rumor spread that two hundred Hurons had just been defeated, and that the fray that we heard arose from that combat. At this news the blood froze in their veins; all hung their heads, without saying a word; they considered themselves almost guilty of the death of so many men, through having mistaken a reality for a feint or a dream. While sorrow devoured the hearts of the French and the Indians, suddenly a Huron canoe appeared, followed by two Iroquois canoes that seemed to be pursuing it. Each one called out to embark and help the poor Hurons. Two canoes were promptly manned and went to meet them, while many people spread themselves along the beach.

When those in the Huron canoe saw the two canoes approaching it, they thought at first that they contained Iroquois; they continued to advance; finally they recognized and saluted one another and went together toward our settlement. It was found that those two Iroquois canoes were two canoes that had been taken from the enemy, and were manned by Hurons. In the Huron canoe we perceived Father Francois Bressany, who lifted his voice before a great crowd of people that ran up to get news, and called out aloud: "Let us go and thank God, who has just given us the victory. Our Hurons have defeated the Iroquois who prowled around your doors. Many enemies lie dead on the field; eighteen or twenty prisoners are in bonds, and the young men are pursuing the fugitives."

The Hurons, he said, did not come down last year to the French through fear of the enemies, who on the one hand threatened the country, and on the other threatened all the roads. But the necessity of obtaining hatchets and other French goods compelled them to expose themselves to all those dangers. Two hundred and fifty men, led by five brave Captains, decided to pass through in spite of all the enemy's resistance. In that band there are Christians and Christian trainees to the number of over 120. Those good Neophytes have never failed to say their prayers publicly twice a day, all together, in the presence of the Pagans. The Hurons have on former occasions come down in still larger numbers, but never in so good order. After a journey of over 500 miles without meeting anyone, when they drew near the fort of Three Rivers, they pushed their canoes in among the rushes, to put themselves in proper attire prior to showing themselves before the French, that is, they painted their faces in various colors; they greased their hair; they wished to appear in orderly condition.

Some canoes that acted as an advance-guard pushed out toward the open water, and were observed at the same time by the French and by the enemies. The enemies, who were on the other side of the river, embarked with unequaled swiftness, to swoop down on those canoes; while the French ran, as fast as they could, along the beach to aid them. But they arrived during the fight that was going on in the woods, and retired, thinking that it was a feint. When the advance-guard of the Hurons perceived the enemy, they immediately gave notice to the Captains, who at once threw aside their oils and paints to seize their weapons. They ran, as fast as they could, to the spot where the Iroquois were to disembark, but they arrived too late; so they collected and disposed themselves in the form of a semi-circle or crescent, to meet the first assault of the enemy, and to hem them in should they come to blows and lance-thrusts. The Iroquois advanced furiously, without, however, uttering their usual yells and war-cries, which serve them as trumpets and drums to dispel the warriors' fear and to intimidate the enemy. When almost close enough to scorch their doublets, as the saying is, they fired a volley from their muskets, which our Hurons received lying on the ground; after delivering their volley, they charged, not expecting to meet with so much resistance.

But the Hurons rose, and, uttering loud yells, they received their enemies with heavy discharges from their pieces; those poor Iroquois were taken by surprise, and fled in every direction, with the exception of one squad who tried to defend themselves with their knives; but they were soon surrounded by our people.

And, if the Hurons at the base of the crescent had not given way at the first report of the muskets, not one of the enemy would have escaped; but those cowards left a door open by which many got away. Three Frenchmen were present in that battle, Father Bressany, who ran about everywhere, inspiring the Hurons with courage, and watching carefully to see if anyone needed his assistance; and two others, who fought bravely, but, when the melee began, they stopped short, not knowing whom to strike for they could not distinguish the Iroquois from the Hurons.

One of these two Frenchmen observed a terrified Iroquois; he went up to him, clapped him on the shoulder, and said to him: "Courage, my brother! let us fight bravely." He took him for one of our group; but a Huron came up, fell upon him, and took him away, leaving the Frenchman astonished. That prisoner afterward sang that he had been captured by a Frenchman; for he imagined that he who had clapped him on the shoulder had said to him: "you are my prisoner." When the battle was over, the swiftest warriors pursued the fugitives, some of whom they captured and killed, bringing back their heads and scalps; but the desire of appearing and refreshing themselves at Three Rivers, after the fatigues of a journey of over 500 miles, prevented them from completely following up their victory, and a great many escaped.

They wrote to us from Montreal that one of the fugitives ran as far as there, crossed the river, and went to surrender to the French. He entered the courtyard of the hospital without meeting anyone except Madamoiselle de Boulogne, sister of Madamoiselle d'Ailleboust, to whom he held out his arms. Those who know that the bashfulness of that good Lady cause her a terrible fear of those barbarians said that she had captured an Iroquois, and that she accomplished more with her prayers, which she was saying at the time, than the soldiers with their swords and muskets.

After that defeat, Father Bressany went on ahead to carry the welcome news to our French. The Hurons followed some time afterward, bringing their prisoners and making them sing and dance after their fashion. It was a fine sight, about sixty canoes floating quietly down the great River, and all the Hurons gravely seated in them, keeping time with their voices and their paddles to the songs sung by their enemies. But it was a sad sight to cast one's eyes on the victims who will perhaps become food for the flames, and for the stomachs of the Indians.

They gave a prisoner to the Algonquins, who soon dispatched him, saying that their old cruelties must be abandoned. When the Hurons observed their gentleness, they said that before long everyone would be baptized in their country, and they would then adopt the practices of the Christians. They burned a Huron renegade, who had been taken among the Iroquois. The hatred that they had conceived for him arose from his having abandoned the Faith among their enemies; and this decided them to treat him in a cruel manner.

When all those people had refreshed themselves to some extent, and Sir Charles de Montmagny had arrived at Three Rivers, they began to discuss affairs. The chief men, who were present at a council, brought four words, represented by five presents.

What passes for a word and for a present at public meetings must be of some considerable value. The first of these presents was but a salute and an honor that they paid to the Governor, and to all our French. The second, a request that the warehouses be opened for trade. The third, a prayer that the price of the goods be reduced. The fourth and the fifth were in thanksgiving for the trouble taken in going to teach them in their country amid so many dangers, and through so many enemies who threaten but fire and flames. They gave two presents for that purpose, because, they said, that was of much greater importance than anything else on earth.

Sir Charles de Montmagny also gave them presents in return, one, among others, to soothe the minds of the country that had been disturbed on account of the murder committed on a Frenchman. The Hurons uttered a thousand insults against the murderers, so that Sir Charles de Montmagny -- seeing that they disapproved of the crime, for which they had given satisfaction according to the laws of their country -- showed them by this present that in his mind the dead man had come to life again. He gave another present to urge them to keep the promise that they had given, that they would willingly listen to the preachers. It is a strange thing that, as a rule, men yield to God only through calamities.

Finally, when all these matters were concluded, those good people embarked in their little bark vessels, taking with them, in addition to Father Bressany four other Fathers of our Jesuits, and one of our Jesuits, namely, Father Gabriel Lalemant, Father Jacques Bonin, Father Adrian Greslon, Father Adrian d'Aran, and our Brother Nicolas Noirclair, together with 25 or 30 Frenchmen.

We have learned since their departure that, when this small army of Hurons reached the point of the Island of Montreal, it divided. Some wished to pass by the settlement of the French who are on that Island, as they had promised the Governor; while the others wished to take the other side as being shorter, easier, and less dangerous. We fear that this division will bring misfortune upon them; for the Iroquois, who are irritated by their losses, will not remain at rest; it will be easy for them to destroy those poor people if they find them separated.

SOME OTHER GOOD ACTIONS OF THE INDIANS.

We have admired the courage and resolution of one Apmangouch; this was a brave Christian who was named Bernard at his baptism. "I was present," said an Iroquois, "at the fight in which he was killed. One of my comrades, who recognized him, told him that we would give him his life if he would surrender, as he belonged to a nation that is allied to the Mohawk Iroquois; and we would have kept our word. But he replied in a loud voice and in a bold tone: 'I cannot yield to treacherous foes and to cowards who rely solely on their numbers and their surprises. I do not wish to live. If anyone among you has any spirit, let him come forward and give proof of his courage against me.' One of our warriors, whom we considered a Demon, started at once and tried to strike him with his javelin; but Bernard avoided the blow, ran him through in a moment, and, as he fell, split his head with his war-hatchet. Our people were enraged," said the Iroquois; "they discharged a gun into his thigh and pierced his side with an arrow. Finding himself wounded, he called out in the Iroquois tongue: 'A truce, I ask you, for an instant. Give me a little leisure; let me speak to him who has made all. I am going with him to Heaven. As to you who know him not, you shall be cast into flames in the bottom of the pit.' At these words, all stopped; he knelt down, and raised his hands and his eyes to Heaven, speaking aloud, but in the Algonquin tongue, which we did not understand. We all were astonished. Finally, when he had finished his prayer, he looked at us with a steady gaze and said: 'Do what you will; I feel no regret at suffering a death that gives me life.' They pierced him on the spot with some lance-thrusts."

I do not know where war, disease, and other plagues had their origin; but I do know that they afflict these Indians, as well as the French. Since the Faith has come to dwell among these peoples, all things that make men die have been found in these countries. Although they have not been defeated in their wars this year, still they have not enjoyed peace. Sicknesses have divided their days with health. The smallpox that caused such havoc nine years ago did good to some souls, while afflicting their bodies. Formerly, one heard nothing but drums, cries, and yells; one saw nothing but feasts and sweats in the cabins where the sick lay. But now one hardly knows, in the places where the Christians reside, what has become of all those songs and noises.

THE WINTERING OF FATHER GABRIEL DRUILLETTES WITH THE INDIANS.

THIS is the third Winter that Father Gabriel Druillettes has passed with the Indians. The Mohawk Iroquois, who have little love for the French, who hate the Hurons, and who are enraged against the Algonquins, compel the Algonquins to wander far away from our settlements to carry on their great hunts. But, as most of those who dwell near us are Christians, they generally ask, when they depart, that one of our Fathers who understands their language may accompany them, so they are not, during their long and fatiguing journeys, deprived of the principal exercises of the Christian Religion. Father Gabriel went with them; eight sailboats and several canoes, all filled with Indians, bore him away from us on the 22nd of September of last year, 1647, to take him 200 or 250 miles from Quebec, into the land of frightful mountains and forests, where the Sun never looks upon the earth, except by stealth.

This small Army, which had scattered on the great river, rallied soon afterward in the vicinity of Tadoussac, near a small river called Kwabahiganan by the Indians.

On the 8th of October, they all prayed for favorable weather to enable them to cross the great river, which at that spot is from 20 to 25 miles wide. That favor was granted them; they separated once more, to meet again, at a certain time, at the rendezvous that they had appointed.

There the Father met some Indians who had started at the beginning of September. After a short stay in that spot, they proceeded toward a river called by the Indians Kaparipataouangak -- that is, land that is pierced; because the mouth through which it falls into the great river seems to be only a small opening in the land, and yet the river is wide and fine beyond that narrow passage. It was in the vicinity of this River that that small army went inland, some in one direction, and some in another, to wage war on the Beavers, Elks, and Bears, the denizens of those great forests.

The group that carried the Father with it -- consisting of fifty mouths, besides the smaller children -- left two sailboats on the banks of this River, which we believe to be that called by our French the River of Mantane; and following the shore of the great river, they walked for four days along a road more firmly paved than that from Paris to Orleans, but not so flat or so even. There were rocks laid by the hands of Nature, which takes pleasure in variety; some were sharp, others blunt; some round, and some square; some high, and some low. It was a road of iron; and they had to carry on their backs the houses in which they were to lodge, and the food that they wished to eat; as for beds, they are found everywhere.

Finally, on the 7th of November, the little band halted to take a short rest before entering the great forests, where their labors would be doubled. Those who carried the cooking utensils, consisting of some kettles, stopped; the food provisioners, who had nothing left but a few peas and a little Indian corn, in the bottom of their pouches, produced these; the women cooked the food without butter, without meat, without fat, without oil, without salt, and without vinegar.

Appetite supplies the place of all sauces; it surpasses all the condiments and appetizers of the best tables in France. They dined without bread and without wine; as for supper, such a thing had not been mentioned for a long time. In the middle of this feast a Captain called out: "Take courage, this is the last time we shall use our kettles. There are no Porcupines; Beavers are scarce, and the snow is not deep enough for capturing Elk. We must be prepared for hunger; be brave and stout of heart, and persevere in your labors."

About that time, two Hurons and an Algonquin, who feared that they would die of hunger, left the band and proceeded toward Quebec; but all three did not arrive there safely. The Algonquin died on the road; while the two others, who reached us on the 26th of November, told us that hunger and sickness were killing those poor people. They were asked whether the Father had not written, and they replied that they had not seen him before their departure. In fact, they had taken advantage of his absence to rob him of a few prunes and raisins with which he relieved the sick.

All who come to New France are sufficiently familiar with the Mountains of Notre-Dame, because, when the Pilots and Sailors reach that part of the great river which is opposite those mountains, they generally amuse themselves by baptizing the new passengers, unless, by means of a present, they turn aside the flood of that baptism, which is made to pour in abundance over their heads. It was amid those high precipices that the Father and all his band marched, climbed, and rolled over, seeking in the land of death the means of sustaining their lives.

Everyone was frightened; the poor Father relied on God; he made the Christians pray. They found every day not enough to live on, but enough to keep them from dying; one would bring in a grouse, another a hare or a Porcupine. There was not a day that God did not give them some little thing. As winter was approaching, they were in great trouble; for they did not know how they could walk on the snow, because they had none of the skins with which they make snowshoes that they use for that purpose. It happened fortunately that Noel Negabamat, after hearing Mass on the feast of Saint Francis Xavier, felt compelled to make a trial of his former agility and strength. He selected his own hunting ground as also did the young men. God made him encounter a great Moose, which he pursued, caught, and killed. After thanking our Lord for the favor, he gave the flesh to the most needy, and the skin to the women, to make snowshoes with; this wonderfully rejoiced all the hunters.

As the festival of the new-born Child approached, they built a little Church, in which all confessed and received communion at midnight mass, with joy and consolation in their souls. These feelings were soon followed by cheerfulness of heart, for so much snow fell that they had enough for killing the large animals. But, as there were only a few of these, they were compelled to divide into two bands. Georges Etouet, the Captain of Tadoussac, gave the district most abounding in game to Noel Negabamat through purely Christian charity, and in accordance with a custom that savors nothing of barbarism, though in the midst of Barbarians; it is this, that the Captains of a country always give the advantage to the Captains of other nations who come to hunt in their district.

That Captain asked the Father to accompany him in his sufferings. "I know, my Father," he said to him, "that you will have to suffer with me; for there are hardly any animals in the place where we are going; all the good spots are full of hunters; there remains only that valley, where we shall perhaps find death, but no one fears it in your company." The Father would not draw back, in that emergency. He followed him.

When that Captain's Hunters found enough with which to live fairly well, four cabins from another area came, and threw themselves into their arms, crying that they were starving, because, they said, there were neither Elks nor Beavers in their own district. Georges Etouet gave them a tobacco feast, that is, he gave them something to smoke, as he had not sufficient food for so many people. It is incredible how charitable the Indians are on such occasions. These good people were not scolded because they ran over other people's lands; they were made to share whatever was in the cabins. This good Captain said to them: "Courage, my brothers! let us run the same risks; let us all suffer and die together."

Finally, after having wandered through those dreadful mountains, they descended toward the source of the River of Mantane. They walked on the ice of that river until the 3rd of March, when they reached its mouth, where they had left their sailboats. They waited for one another until the 14th of April, on which day they proceeded to Tadoussac, where they anchored on the last day of the same month, and then started from it on the 7th of May. When they arrived before Quebec the Father who had accompanied them took a Crucifix in his hand, and, lifting his voice, he made them return, in full view of our French, who, when they saw the poor Father with naked feet, and his body covered with a blanket in the fashion of the Indians, and heard the prayers of the good Neophytes, were so deeply moved that some of them wept freely.

THE MISSION OF THE HOLY CROSS AT TADOUSSAC.

I HAVE already stated several times that the Faith was usually followed by afflictions in all the countries of this new world into which it entered. Last year, many Indians of the Northern tribes, who had come down to Tadoussac, returned to their country with desires to embrace our belief. Hardly had they obtained a knowledge of it, when disease seized upon them, and followed them into the depths of their great woods, where it destroyed a great number of them. This scourge inspired the others with terror, so that many would not approach either that spot or the persons from whom they could obtain life, because they considered them to blame for the death of those persons.

When the Father found that fear detained a portion of his flock in their own country, he decided to go and seek them. He embarked with some Indians in a bark Canoe, to enter into great forests by almost inaccessible routes, on a wonderfully rapid river. When about half-way, he met a band who told him that the others had decamped some time before, and that he could not overtake them. He therefore remained with this band, lodging in their cabins. The Father went back with them to Tadoussac to administer to them the Sacraments of Confession and the Eucharist, and to instruct them, sending them back then to their own country.

When the Father returned to Tadoussac, he found that liquor had caused disorder among his people. He protested, he criticized, he prayed. The guilty were covered with shame, and themselves declared their sin; they accused and condemned themselves; and they pronounced their own sentence, which they carried out. They climbed up inaccessible rocks and there, exposed to the view of all who stood below and of the French themselves, who had anchored in front of the mountain, they caused themselves to be given heavy blows with scourges upon their shoulders -- more or less severely, according to the grievousness of their sin.

VARIOUS MATTERS

An Indian who had killed an Otter put it, while still warm, round the neck of a Frenchman, who at once fell in a swoon as if he were dead. The Indian then took the Otter by the hind legs and gave some blows with it on the stomach of the Frenchman, who recovered consciousness almost in a moment. I leave Physicians to decide the cause of this, but it occurred.

Two Indians wished to cross the great River, toward the end of winter. As they had no boat either of wood or of bark, they made one from an ice-floe. Having found on the bank a piece large enough for their purpose, they pushed it into the water, and embarked on it; then they stretched a large blanket, the lower extremity of which they held down with their feet, while they held up the other with their javelins, so as to receive a favorable wind that wafted them over the great river under sail, on a bridge or boat made of ice.

Here is a prudent answer for an Indian. Those of Tadoussac united with those of Quebec, and came to salute our Governor, to ascertain what were his opinions respecting the Iroquois prisoners who had cast themselves into our hands. They feared that we might make peace independently of them; they alleged a thousand arguments to prove the treachery of that nation, and to persuade us to continue the war. The Governor caused them to be told that he was surprised that they should seek to know his opinions, they who seemed to conceal their own plans. "We see," he added, "a great number of stranger Indians arriving daily. Who among you has sent for them, without letting me know anything of who is to command them?" A Captain adroitly replied: "Those whom you see are children without fathers, without relatives, without chiefs, and without leaders. Their Captains, who served them as Fathers last year, are dead; and the poor orphans have come to live with their Allies. 'Come' (they said to one another), 'let us go and see our Friends; we are told that they are at war; let us go and taste the flesh of their enemies.' Besides, they are under your leadership; they will advance or fall back, according to your orders." This prompt reply was considered a clever evasion; for it was well known that those strangers had been sent for.

I must not forget the clever evasion, accompanied by bluster, of one who showed himself a coward in the battle between the Hurons and the Iroquois. A Huron, already advanced in years, who was frightened by the sight of the fires and the noise of the weapons, fled so far into the woods that it was a long time before he reappeared. When his victorious comrades, who had not found him among the dead, saw him return, they laughingly gave him a nickname. He tried to elude their banter, and said to them: "My nephews, you have no occasion to laugh and to jeer at me, as much as at your own cowardice. Had you displayed as much courage as your uncle showed in pursuing the enemy, you would have had more prisoners than you have. I ran so far and so fast that at last, when those whom I pursued had tired me out, I lost myself and strayed in the woods; that is why I delayed so long after the others." The Indians were satisfied with this explanation, not because they did not perceive the falsehood, but because they do not know what it is to cover the face of a poor man with shame and confusion. They never push one another to extremities, so as to be reduced to silence and to be nonplussed.

I shall here relate an instance that deserves to be classed among the memorable friendships of antiquity. A young Iroquois, 19 or twenty years of age, had escaped from the defeat of those people whom we mentioned above. But, when he was quite out of danger, he observed that his elder brother, whom he had given his word never to abandon, did not make his appearance; he coolly retraced his steps, and, suspecting that his brother was captured, he came to seek him in the hands of his enemies. He landed at Three Rivers and passed before several Frenchmen, who said not a word to him because they did not distinguish him from a Huron. He ascended a small mound, on which the fort is built, and coolly went and sat down at the foot of a cross erected at the gate of the fort. A Huron perceived him, and, unlike the French, recognized him; he seized him at once, robbed and bound him, and made him ascend with his brother a scaffold on which all the captives were placed. When the poor lad was asked why he came to throw himself into the fires, the kettles, and the stomachs of the Hurons, his enemies, he replied that he wished to share his brother's fortunes, and that he had more love for him than fear of the tortures; and that he could not have endured, in his own country, the reproaches that would have been cast at him for abandoning him like a coward. Such friendship is not common.

The piety of the Christian Hurons must here be alluded to. When they landed at Three Rivers and passed before the cross erected at the gate of the fort, they ordered their prisoners to bend the knee with them before that sacred cross, wishing to compel them to acknowledge, by that act of humiliation, the greatness of him who redeemed them on that wood, and to make amends for having broken down the cross that was set up near Richelieu.

Not long ago, an eagle swooped down on a little boy nine years old. It placed one of its feet on his shoulder, and seized him by the opposite ear with the talons of the other. The poor child began to cry out, while his little brother three years old, who had a stick in his hand, tried to strike at the Eagle, but it did not let go. This perhaps prevented it from tearing the child's eyes and face with its beak and gave the father time to come to his assistance. When the bird heard the noise of human voices, it appeared somewhat surprised, but did not loose its prey. The father, who ran up, had to break its thigh; and as, by good fortune, he had a sickle in his hand, when the Eagle felt itself wounded and tried to fly away, he cut off its head at the same time. The Indians say that Eagles often swoop down on men; that they sometimes carry off Beavers, and Sturgeon heavier than sheep. This does not seem to me to be probable. Some say that they are Griffins and that some have been seen in these countries. I merely relate what I have heard.

A Frenchman fired an musket at a crane, and broke its wing, then the bird ran straight at him on its long legs, thrusting its beak like a half-pike at his face, but with such impetuosity that the hunter had to leave the battlefield to his enemy. He finally overcame it by stratagem; for, after concealing himself in the woods, and reloading his musket, he put an end not only to its flying, but also to its running.

Even tortoises revenge themselves on their enemies. There are several kinds here: some have a thick and strong shell, others a thinner and more delicate one; the delicate ones which are not so well provided with defensive armor, are bolder. A Frenchman caught one of considerable size, which he thought he had killed with a club; he tied a string to its tail, and threw it over his shoulder. When the animal, which is rather tenacious of life, recovered from the stupor caused by the blows discharged on its head, it seized its foe by the back with its small jaws, and bit him so hard that he yelled with pain. He dropped the cord, to allow the tortoise to fall; but it would not loosen its hold, and remained suspended by its teeth, biting harder and harder, without letting go; finally its head had to be cut off, to appease its anger.

The ships brought out so much liquor, to sell secretly to the Indians, that the disorder to which it gave rise was exceedingly deplorable. Sir d'Ailleboust, our new Governor, wishing to remedy the evil, sent for the Captains of the Indians, and asked them what they thought on the subject. It is a prudent act to govern these peoples by the persons who belong to their nation. The good Neophytes replied that they had long desired that the drunkenness that crosses the sea on board our ships should not land in their cabins, but that they could not persuade their people to point out those who sold them these liquors in secret.

"They must, then," replied the Governor, "submit to the laws that will be enacted against their excesses."

They agreed to this, and the drum was beaten at the Residence of Saint Joseph. All the Indians listened; the French residents met with them. An Interpreter, who held the ordinance in his hand, read it to the French; he then handed it to an Indian Captain, interpreting its meaning to him, so that he might announce it among his people. It contained a Prohibition on the part of the Governor, and of the Captains of the Indians, to sell or purchase those liquors, and especially to drink of them to excess, on penalty of the punishments stated in the ordinance; also an order to all who had abandoned the Faith to leave that Residence, where neither our Governor nor the Captains of the Indians would allow any Apostate to remain. From the beginning of the world to the coming of the French, the Indians have never known what it was to forbid anything to their people, under any penalty, however slight. They are free people, each of whom considers himself of as much consequence as the others; and they submit to their chiefs only in so far as it pleases them.

Still, the Captain delivered a powerful speech; and since he knew that the Indians would not recognize the prohibition enacted by a Frenchman, he repeated these words several times: "It is not only the Captain of the French who speaks to you but also such and such Captains," whose names he mentioned. "I also assure you that, if anyone should be guilty of the prohibited offenses, we will give him up to the laws of the French." This is the most important public act of jurisdiction that has ever been performed among the Indians since I have been in this new World.

THE HURON COUNTRY, IN NEW FRANCE, IN 1647 AND 1648. SENT TO REVEREND FATHER ESTIENNE CHARLET, PROVINCIAL OF THE JESUITS IN THE PROVINCE OF FRANCE. BY FATHER PAUL RAGUENEAU OF THE JESUITS, SUPERIOR OF THE HURON MISSION.

LOCATION OF THE COUNTRY OF THE HURONS; THEIR ALLIES, AND THEIR ENEMIES.

The country of the Hurons lies between the forty-fourth and forty-fifth degrees of Latitude, and the Longitude is a half-hour more to the West than Quebec.

On the Western side, in Summer, they come to a Lake whose circuit is nearly 1000 miles, which we call the freshwater Sea (Lake Huron). It has a certain rise and fall of tide, and, at the extremity farthest from us, communicates with two other Lakes which are still larger. This freshwater Sea contains a number of Islands; one is nearly 150 miles long.

To the west-southwest, that is, almost at the West, lies the Petun nation, which is only about 30 miles away from us.

To the South, and a little toward the West, we face the Neutral Nation whose villages on the nearest frontier are only about 75 miles away from the Hurons. Its extent is 100 or 125 miles.

Beyond the Neutral Nation, a little toward the East, we go to New Sweden where the Susquehannocks dwell, who are the allies of our Hurons and who speak a similar language; they are 375 miles away from us, in a straight line.

Almost due South from the country of the same Neutral Nation, we find a great Lake nearly 500 miles in circumference, called Erie; it is formed by the discharge of the freshwater Sea (Lake Huron) and throws itself over a waterfall (Niagara) of a dreadful height into a third Lake, named Lake Ontario, which we also call Lake Saint Louys.

This Lake, called Erie, was formerly inhabited on its Southern shores by certain tribes whom we call the Eries; they have been compelled to retire far inland to escape their enemies, who are farther to the West. These Eries have a number of stationary villages, for they till the soil, and speak the same language as our Hurons.

Leaving the Huron country, and proceeding toward the South, after a journey of 75 or 100 miles we come to Lake Ontario which is 200 or 225 miles in length, while its average width is 40 or 50 miles. Its length is from the East to the West; its width from the South to the North. The discharge of Lake Ontario forms a branch of the River Saint Lawrence, namely, what is South of the Island of Montreal, and runs past Quebec.

Beyond Lake Ontario, a short distance inland, dwell the five Iroquois Nations, the enemies of our Hurons, the location of whose country is almost parallel to the length of that Lake.

The nearest to the Neutral Nation are the Senecas, 175 miles from the Huron country, following the south-southeast, that is, between the South and the East, but more toward the South. Below are the Cayugas, almost in a straight line about 62 miles from the Senecas. Still further down are the Onondagas, 25 or 30 miles from the Cayugas; and the Oneidas, 17 or 20 miles from the Onondagas. The Mohawks are distant from the Oneidas 60 or 75 miles; they turn slightly in an inland direction and are farthest East from the Hurons. It is they who are nearest to New Netherland and also to Three Rivers.

By Lake Ontario we could go straight to Quebec in a few days, and with less trouble, having only three or four falls -- or, rather, more rapid currents -- to pass all the way to Montreal, which is distant only about 150 miles from the outlet of Lake Ontario. But fear of the enemies who dwell along the shores of this Lake compels our Hurons, and us with them, to make a long detour to reach another branch of the Saint Lawrence River, namely, that which flows to the North of Montreal, and which we call the River des Prairies. This lengthens our journey by almost one-half, and. besides, compels us to pass more than sixty falls, where we have to land and carry all our baggage and canoes upon our shoulders. This would be avoided taking the direct route, without counting a great number of rapid currents up which the canoes have to be dragged, while we walk in the water, with great inconvenience and danger.

To the North of the Hurons, there are various Algonquin Tribes who do not till the soil, who live solely by hunting and fishing, and who roam as far as the Northern sea, which we consider to be distant over 750 miles in a straight line. But we have no other knowledge of it, or of those Tribes, except through the reports given to us by the Hurons and some of the nearer Algonquins, who go there to trade for Furs and Beavers, which are found there in abundance.

THE GENERAL STATE OF THE MISSION.

This country has never been in such deep affliction as we see it now, and that never has the Faith appeared to greater advantage The Iroquois, the enemies of these people, continue to wage a bloody war against them that destroys our frontier villages and causes the others to dread a similar misfortune.

Since our last Report, we have baptized nearly thirteen hundred persons; but what consoles us the most is to see the fervor of these good Neophytes and a spirit of Faith in them that savors nothing of barbarism, and causes us to bless God's mercies which spread so abundantly, from day your, to the outer confines of this new world.

Almost all of last Summer was passed in expectations and alarms of a hostile army of the Iroquois, our neighbors; that was the reason why the Hurons did not go down to Quebec, but remained to defend their threatened country. They also feared another army of the Mohawk Iroquois, who lay in ambush for them on the way, had they gone down the River. Thus we received last year no assistance, and not even a letter, from Quebec or from France. Still, God has supported us; he alone has been our Father and our Provider, out defense, our joy, our Consolations our all. Not; a single thing has failed us, any more than to the Apostles, when Our Lord sent them out, almost entirely destitute, to the conquest of Souls.

Our Missions have gone on as usual, and we have also undertaken new ones, not only among the Hurons, but also among the Algonquins. God has given our Fathers courage beyond their strength, so that one man accomplished alone what would have given occupation to several.

Although we are in an abandoned country, where Poverty is our accompaniment, and where we live only on donations, coming a distance of 3750 miles, that have to pass over the sea and through the fury of the Iroquois before we can enjoy them; still, it is not that worldly assistance that we require the most. Missionaries are what we need.

Our Hurons have made considerable advance in negotiations for Peace with the Onondagas (that is one of the five Iroquois nations that has most harassed this country), and there is some hope that two others of the hostile Nations will enter into the same treaty, embassies are being sent on both sides. If this affair be successful, they will have to contend only with the Senecas, the nearest enemy that we have, and the Mohawk Iroquois, who are nearer to Quebec, against whom we could war with advantage, for our arms would not be diverted elsewhere.

Besides, our Hurons have sent an embassy to the Susquehannocks, peoples of New Sweden, their former allies, to request them to enter into a full Peace with them, or to resume the war that they waged only a few years ago against the Mohawk Iroquois. Considerable assistance is expected from this, as well as a great relief for this country. But our hopes rest in God; for the treachery of those peoples does not allow us to rely in any way upon their words, and makes us dread as great a misfortune during those treaties of peace as in the midst of war.

OUR HOUSE OF SAINT MARIE.

THE house of Saint Marie has been in the heart of the country, and has, therefore, been less exposed to the inroads of the enemy. From time to time, some venturesome foes have come to strike an evil blow within sight of our settlement; but they did not dare to approach us except in small numbers and in secret, in case they might be perceived from the frontier villages, and attacked. We have lived in sufficient security on that score, and not one of us has yet been surprised in their ambushes.

We are forty-two Frenchmen in the midst of all these infidel Nations, eighteen being of our Jesuits, while the remainder are chosen persons, most of whom have decided to live and to die with us; they assist us by their labor and industry.

This house is a resort for the whole Country, where the Christians find a Hospital in their sicknesses, a refuge in the height of alarms, and a hospice when they come to visit us. During the past year, we have estimated over three thousand persons to whom we have given shelter, sometimes, within two weeks, six or seven hundred Christians; and three meals to each one.

We have not the same delicacies nor the same abundance as in France. The Indian corn, pounded in a mortar, boiled, and seasoned with some smoked fish, which is used in lieu of salt, when reduced to powder, serves us as food and drink. It teaches us that Nature is content with little, and it gives us health less liable to sickness than it would be amid the rich and varied foods of Europe.

As a rule, only two or three of our Fathers reside in this house; the others are scattered among the Missions, now ten in number. Some are more stationary in the principal villages of the Country; the others are more wandering, a single Father being compelled to take charge of ten or twelve villages; and some extend still further, 200 or 250 miles, so that all these Nations may be illumined by the light of the Gospel at the same time. We attempt, however, to gather all together two or three times a year, to commune with ourselves. After that, we must return to our labors as soon as possible.

VARIOUS DEFEATS OF OUR HURONS BY THEIR ENEMIES.

THE Arendaronon Hurons, who were on our frontiers toward the East that we called "the Mission of Saint John the Baptist," met with so many defeats in the past years that they were compelled to leave their Country, which was too much exposed to the enemy, and to withdraw into more populous Villages, which are also more easily defended. We have lost a good many Christians by it.

All of this country was threatened last Summer by a hostile army, which came to attack us, but their plans were thwarted for reasons which we will mention subsequently; and after most of them had dispersed, a band of three hundred Senecas attacked the village of the Aondironnons (Neutrals), where they killed a great many, and took away all the captives they could.

These Aondironnons are a tribe of the Neutral Nation who are nearest to our Hurons. Not being at war with the Senecas, they had received them in their Village as friends and had prepared food for them in all their cabins, among which the Senecas purposely divided themselves, the more easily to strike their blow. Their stratagem was successful, for they massacred or seized all who might have resisted, before the Aondironnons could perceive their evil plan, because they all commenced the massacre at the same moment.

What led the Senecas to this act of treachery was the resentment that they felt on account of the death of one of their men. While returning, during the previous Winter, from a warlike incursion in which he had committed a murder on the frontier of the Petun nation, he was hotly pursued and caught by the Hurons at the gates of the Aondironnon Neutrals, before he had time to enter any cabin. For that reason it was considered a fair capture; but, still, his death was avenged.

It was thought that, after such base treachery, the entire Neutral Nation would go to war against the Iroquois; and both sides stood on their guard and distrusted each other. However there seems to be no stir in that direction, and they continue in their neutrality. Some say that it cannot be for a long time, and that the intention of the Neutral Nation is to get back their captives peacefully, and then to seize their opportunity to avenge their losses.

The last misfortunes happened to us about the end of the Winter. Some persons of the village of Saint Ignace to the number of about three hundred, both men and women, had encamped, for the purpose of hunting, at a distance of two days' journey in the woods, in the direction of the enemy's country. A band of Senecas fell on one of the cabins, which was somewhat remote from the others, at a moment when it was least defended, because most of the group had scattered while following their game. Seven persons were killed on the spot; and twenty-four, both men and women, were carried off as captives. The enemy promptly retired, fearing pursuit.

Of those who were killed on the spot, one was a pearl among our Christians. He was a young man twenty-four years old, named Ignace Saonaretsi, an example to all the young men, and of irreproachable morals. While fighting the enemy, he saw that the forces were unequal and that he might be taken captive; so he said to his cousin, whom he saw escaping: "My cousin, go and inform my mother that I shall be burned, but tell her not to mourn for my death; then I shall have nothing in my mind but Paradise." Near him was his elder brother, a Christian trainee, whom we are told he baptized; and they were the first two to fall.

This loss was followed by a still greater one, a few days afterward. Over three hundred persons of that village of Saint Ignace returned to this same spot for the purpose of burying their dead, and of removing a quantity of the flesh of the wild cattle (elk?) that they had killed. On their way home, they scattered here and there, and were surprised by about a hundred Mohawk Iroquois, at a distance of 10 or 12 miles from the village; about forty of our people were killed or taken captive. This has since compelled those who dwelt at Saint Ignace to come nearer to us, and to shelter themselves better against the incursions of the enemy.

GOD'S PROVIDENCE TOWARD SOME CHRISTIANS CAPTURED OR KILLED BY THE ENEMIES.

TOWARD the end of Summer, a band of Iroquois adventurers, led by a Huron who had long been a captive among them, surprised, on a lonely Island, a cabin occupied by some Christians who were engaged in fishing. They killed four or five on the spot, and took seven captives. One who escaped from the melee ran to bear the news to a neighboring village. The Missionary who was there hurried to the scene of the massacre expecting that there would be some soul to be won to Heaven. After a journey of 5 miles, he found that he could go no further, for he had reached the shores of the great Lake. He heard the voices of some infidels, who called out to him to embark. "hurry," they said to the Father; "perhaps you will find someone still alive, who has not yet been baptized." Those who had received baptism, and who had confessed before their departure, lay dead on the spot. Only a girl eighteen years of age, a good Christian trainee, was still alive, but in a body pierced by weapon-thrusts; she lay weltering in her blood, and her scalp had been torn from her head, for this is the spoil that the enemies usually carry away. The Father had barely time to baptize her, as if that soul in a half-dead body had waited only for that grace of Baptism to soar away to Heaven.

The enemy were so hotly pursued that they were cut off after they had already gone 20 or 25 miles out of the country. All the captives were recovered, without a single one of them having received a blow, or even having had his nails torn out, which is always the first of the caresses given to prisoners of war. The chief of the enemies was captured, and another with him; the remainder fled, without having time to deal a single blow with a hatchet to kill the prisoners whom they were taking away.

A Christian who fell into the hands of the enemies was so cruelly treated that most of them had compassion on him. Addressing an infidel who was being tortured with him, he said to him: "My comrade, if you wish me to baptize you, and if with all your heart you pray God to have pity on you after your death, he will have mercy on you." When the enemies heard that speech, they cut off his hand; they separated him from his companion, and redoubled his tortures.

A young Christian girl, aged fourteen or fifteen years, had been taken a captive to Seneca; when she reached that place, she heard them speak of putting her to death. Fear inspired her with courage. She found means to escape, and fled into the brushwood, 300 or 400 yards from the village. All the people took the field to search for her, night and day. They passed quite close to the spot where she lay hidden, and she was frequently on the point of showing herself, thinking that she was discovered, when God led elsewhere the steps of those who were going straight toward her, and gave her sufficient courage to remain hidden there for three whole days, without eating or drinking.

On the third night, she came forth tremblingly from her refuge and started in the direction of the Neutral Nation, without knowing exactly where she was going. After journeying for three days, and fording a river, she met four men, who asked her where she was going. She told them of her misfortune, and said that she had escaped from death. Two of those men were foes, who talked of taking her back into captivity, to certain death. The two others, who belonged to the Neutral Nation, pitied the poor innocent child, and took her cause in hand, saying that, as she had crossed to that side of the river, she was in their country, in a land of peace, and no longer in the power of the enemy. Finally, the two men of the Neutral Nation gained the point over the two enemies. For more than six days she had eaten nothing, and yet she felt neither hungry nor weary. They gave her something with which to break her fast, to enable her to reach the villages of the Neutral Nation, where she was safe; she continued her journey, and arrived here on Easter Sunday. Her father, a good Christian named Antoine Otiatonnety, and her other relatives received her as a child risen from the dead.

We desire neither sufferings nor misfortunes for our Christians; but still I cannot refrain from praising God for those that happen to them, because experience has shown me that their Faith is never livelier than when we have most fear for them. All those whom I have seen who have fallen into the hands of the enemy, and have afterward escaped, have admitted that, at the height of their misfortunes, they felt more complete reliance on God, than at any time in all of their past lives, or even after their deliverance.

In the middle of the Summer, at the height of the terror inspired by a hostile army that was reported to be but a mile from the village of St. Joseph, the women thought only of flight, and the men of resisting the attack; fear and dread reigned everywhere. Amid all those alarms, the Christians, the Christian trainees, and even many infidels, hurried to the Church, some to receive absolution, others to hurry their Baptism; all feared Hell more than death. The Father did not know whom to hear, or while he wished to satisfy some, the others pressed him, and cried to him for pity. Many were armed from head to foot, and received Baptism in that state. It turned out to be a false alarm.

THE BAPTISMS OF SOME IROQUOIS TAKEN IN WAR BY THE HURONS.

THE fortune of war is not always all on the same side. If our Hurons have suffered losses, they have also had their victories, in which Heaven has gained more than they; for most of the Iroquois whom they have captured at various times, and who have been burned as usual, have found the way to Heaven in the midst of the flames. But it must be admitted that we never obtain any of those Baptisms without unparalleled contests and resistance, not so much on the part of those whose Baptism is sought, as from the infidel Hurons, who hardly permit us to procure eternal happiness for those whom they look upon solely with the eye of an enemy. Were we not assisted on such occasions by the fervor of our Christians, we would not be strong enough to attain our end.

An excellent Christian observed the stubborn opposition of the infidels to permitting us even to baptize some captives. He said to the infidels, "if you do not believe that our Faith is the true one, why do you oppose the instruction of those prisoners? And, if what we preach about Paradise and Hell be a lie, why do you refuse us the satisfaction of relating those fables, and of deceiving your enemies? And if you think that God's word be true, then embrace the Faith yourselves, and dread not for yourselves those Hell-fires that you desire for those poor wretches." After that, he spoke to the prisoners and asked them whether they understood those truths, and whether they desired Baptism. Their hearts were fully prepared; all remained silent, and Baptism was administered.

What most astonished the infidels on such occasions was to find that the women were stronger than they. One day, we thought that we had not made ourselves sufficiently understood by a Seneca captive (for although the foundation of the language is the same as that of the Hurons, still the dialects are so different that they could be considered different languages). It occurred to us to rely on a good Christian woman, who came, nine or ten years ago, from a village of the Neutral Nation that lies near the enemy's country. This woman approached the captive, and she began to instruct him herself. The infidels did not know what to say to that Christian, for the Huron men would be ashamed to enter into a dispute with a woman. She continued her instruction in peace; and the poor captive was so moved by her charity that he asked to be baptized, and on the following day his soul was in Heaven.

THE NEGOTIATIONS FOR PEACE BETWEEN THE HURONS AND THE ONONDAGAS.

THE Onondagas, the most warlike of the five nations that are hostile to our Hurons, have made considerable advance in a treaty of peace with them. At the beginning of 1647, a band of Onondagas who appeared on our frontiers were pursued by a troop of Huron warriors, who were victorious; the chief of the enemies was killed on the spot, others were taken prisoner, and the remainder put to flight.

These prisoners of war were burned, as usual, with the exception of the most important of them all, named Annenraes, whose life was spared. One of those who was destined to the flames, seized with a horror of the cruelties that awaited him, cast himself headlong into a great kettle of boiling water, to shorten his tortures and his life.

At the beginning of the Spring, Annenraes, whose life had been spared, was privately informed that some individuals who were angry because he was allowed to live wished to kill him. He communicated to a friend his idea of escaping, and returning to his own country. When this was reported to some Captains, the principal chiefs of the council, they deemed it advisable to aid him in his plan, hoping that this man, who had great authority at Onondaga, might render them a good service. They equipped him, gave him some presents, and made him start at night, incognito.

When that man had passed Lake Ontario, which separates us from the enemies, he came upon three hundred Onondagas. They were making canoes, for the purpose of crossing that Lake, intending to avenge his death; and to that end, they were to join other bands amounting to eight hundred men, of both Senecas and Cayugas, who were also on the war-path.

At this meeting, which was quite unexpected for the Onondagas, Annenraes, who was looked upon as a man risen from the dead, so bore himself that the three hundred Onondagas gave up their plans of war, and entertained thoughts of peace. The result was that when they had returned to Onondaga and had held a council there, they sent an embassy to the Hurons, with presents, to commence negotiations for peace.

The head of the embassy was one Soiones, a Huron by birth, but who had become so naturalized among the enemies for many years that no Iroquois had committed more massacres in these countries, nor had struck more evil blows than he. This Soiones brought with him three other Hurons, who had been captives for a short time at Onondaga and who have remained with us. They arrived at the Village of Saint Ignace on the ninth of July.

On receiving this news, the country was divided. Those among the Hurons whom we call the Nation of the Bear feared the enemy, even With his presents. The Villages nearest the enemy hoped that peace would be successfully established because they most desired it, but the Arendaronon Hurons, more than any other Nation, because they were led to hope that a number of their people, who were captives at Onondaga, would be given up to them.

After many councils, it was finally deemed beneficial, to see more clearly into the matter, to send an embassy to Onondaga in return. A Christian Captain, named Jean Baptiste Atironta, was the head of it, and four other Hurons went with him. They started from here on the first of August, and carried reciprocal presents in response to those of the Onondagas. For these presents the Hurons use furs, which are of great value in the enemies' country; while the Onondagas use collars of wampum beads.

After a twenty days' journey, Jean Baptiste Atironta arrived at Onondaga; the enemies' Ambassador returned with him. our embassy was received with signs of joy; and for the space of a month, while he was in that place, there was nothing but holding of councils. After that, the Onondagas decided to send back with Jean Baptiste Atironta a second embassy the head of which was an Onondaga Captain named Scandaouati, aged sixty years; and with him were two other Onondagas.

With these, they sent back fifteen Huron captives, keeping as a hostage one of those who had accompanied Jean Baptiste.

They reached here on the twenty-third of October, after having taken thirty days on their return journey from Onondaga; for, although it is distant only about ten days' journey, still they are frequently obliged to halt, either to make canoes for crossing the Rivers and Lake Ontario; or on account of bad weather and storms; or even for the purpose of killing game, on which they subsist while on the road.

In addition to the captives brought back by Jean Baptiste, he was loaded with seven great wampum collars each of which consisted of three or four thousand beads (these are the pearls and the diamonds of the country). These collars were new presents from the Onondagas to strengthen the peace, with the message that the country might also hope for the deliverance of a hundred other Hurons, who remained in captivity.

What is said to have persuaded the Onondagas to entertain these thoughts of peace is, in the first place, the joy they felt because the life of Annenraes had been spared; in the second place, their fear that the Mohawk Iroquois, who become insolent in their victories, and who make themselves unbearable even to their allies, may become too much so and, in time, may tyrannize over them if the Hurons, relieved from a portion of their wars, do not unite all their forces against them. In the third place, the Susquehannocks, tribes allied to our Hurons, contribute in great measure toward this matter, either because the Onondagas fear to have them as enemies, or because they desire their alliance.

The Onondagas behave as if the matter were settled. The Cayugas have the same intentions, and for that object have already, to give assurance of their purpose, sent back one of the Hurons who were captive among them with two collars of wampum beads, which they have presented to our Hurons. The Oneida nation also is reported to be not averse to peace. The Senecas will not hear of it.

The Mohawks are still more averse to it, because, it is stated, they are jealous of what the Onondagas have done, and wish always to make themselves formidable. And it was the two last Nations by whom the Village of Saint Ignace was harassed at the end of last Winter.

At the beginning of January of the present year, 1648, our Hurons deemed it beneficial to assign a new embassy to Onondaga consisting of six men, who set out for that purpose with one of the three Onondagas who had come here; the two others remained as hostages, and especially Scandaouati, the chief Onondaga Ambassador. But since then, we have heard that our Ambassadors fell into the hands of the hundred Mohawk Iroquois who came as far as our borders and that therefore they were killed on the way, except the Onondaga who was returning, and two of our men, who escaped and continued on their way to Onondaga.

That is not all. At the beginning of April, Scandaouati, the Onondaga Ambassador who had remained here as hostage, disappeared, and our Hurons thought that he had escaped; but after some days his Corpse was found in the middle of a wood, not far from the Village where he resided. The poor man had killed himself by cutting his throat with a knife, after having prepared a sort of bed made of fir-branches, on which he was found stretched out.

At this spectacle, his companion was sent for, so he could witness all that had occurred and see that the Hurons had had nothing to do with the mugger. "In fact," he said to them, "I suspected that he would do such a deed; what caused his despair is the shame that he felt at seeing the Senecas and the Mohawks come and massacre your people on your frontiers. For, although they are your enemies, they are our allies; and they ought to have shown us this much respect that, as we had come here on an embassy, they should have waited to strike an evil blow until after our return, when our lives would have been safe. He has considered it too great a contempt for his person, and that shame has caused him to sink into desperate thoughts. And that is what he meant to say to our third companion, who has gone back with your Ambassadors, when, on his departure, he told him to notify those of our Nation that if, during these negotiations for peace and while he was here, any evil blow were struck, the shame of it would cause his death. He added that he was not a dead dog, to be abandoned; and that he well deserved that the eyes of the whole earth should be fixed on him, and that it should remain quiet while his life would be in danger."

AN EMBASSY OF THE HURONS TO SUSQUEHANNOCK

Susquehannock is a country beyond the Neutral Nation, distant from the Huron country about 375 miles in a straight line to the South-Southeast, that is, Southward, a little toward the East; but the distance that has to be traveled to reach there is nearly 500 miles, owing to detours in the route. Those people speak the Huron language, and have always been the allies of our Hurons. They are warlike, and in a single village they count thirteen hundred men capable of bearing arms.

At the beginning of last year, 1647, two men of that Nation came here, appointed by their Captains to tell our Hurons that if they felt too weak to contend against their enemies, they should inform them, and send an Embassy to Susquehannock for that object. The Hurons did not miss this opportunity. Charles Ondaaiondiont, an excellent Christian of long standing, was appointed as the head of that embassy; and he was accompanied by four other Christians, and by four infidels. They left here on the thirteenth of April, and reached Susquehannock only at the beginning of June.

The speech delivered by Charles Ondaaiondiont on his arrival was not long. He told them that they came from the Land of Souls, where war and the terror of the enemies had desolated everything; where the country was covered only with blood; where the cabins were filled only with corpses; and that they had only enough life remaining to come to ask their friends to have pity on a country that was drawing near its end. After that, he displayed the most valuable rarities of this land, which the Hurons had brought as presents for them; and they said that in these was the voice of their expiring country.

The reply of the Susquehannock Captains was to deplore the calamities of a country that had suffered so great losses; then they added that tears and regrets for the past were not the remedy for those evils, but that the course of those misfortunes must be arrested as soon as possible.

After a number of councils, they appointed Ambassadors to the Enemies of our Hurons, to ask them to lay down their arms, and to think of a lasting peace, which would not hinder the trade of all these countries with one another.

The Susquehannocks who were appointed to the Iroquois had not yet returned to Susquehannock on the fifteenth of August; still, Charles Ondaaiondiont was anxious to depart, so he could bring to this country, before winter, information of the decision reached by the Susquehannocks in the matter. He therefore left one of his companions at Susquehannock, to be a witness of all that should occur, and returned with the remainder of his suite, arriving here only on the fifth of October.

The Senecas -- who, early in the Spring, had received information of this embassy of our Hurons -- lay in wait for them on their return; but Charles suspected this, and avoided their ambushes by making a wide circuit through the woods by devious paths, and by crossing almost inaccessible mountains; this compelled him on his return to perform in forty days a journey that had occupied him ten days, in going from the Neutral Nation to Susquehannock.

We have not yet had any news from the Huron who remained behind at Susquehannock; but we are certain that the Susquehannock Ambassadors reached the enemies' country; for Jean Baptiste Atironta -- who was at Onondaga at the end of the Summer, in connection with the treaty of peace of which we spoke -- had news of it, and even saw the presents that were sent from Susquehannock for that purpose. For all these peoples have no voice, except if it be accompanied By presents; these serve as contracts, and as public proofs, which are handed down to posterity, and attest what has been done in any matter.

The plan of the Susquehannocks is to bring about peace between our Hurons and the Oneidas, the Onondagas, and the Cayugas, and even with the Senecas; also to renew the war that they waged a few years ago against the Mohawks, if these refuse to enter into the same treaty of peace.

When Charles Ondaaiondiont was at Susquehannock, he went to see the Europeans, their allies, who are at a distance of three days' journey from that place. They received him with much kindness. Charles told them that he was a Christian, and requested them to take him to their Church, so he could perform his devotions; for he thought that it was like those in our French settlements. They replied that they had no place set apart for their prayers. The good Christian observed some acts of levity that were not modest, on the part of some young men, toward two or three Indian women who had come from Susquehannock; he reproached them because they thought only of the fur trade, and not of instructing the Indians with whom they are allied.

The Captain of that settlement apologized to him for it; he complained that he was not obeyed by his people, as regards purity of morals; and he asked him a thousand questions respecting the condition of this Church, how we live here among the Indians, and the means that we take to convert them to the Faith. He was astonished to see an Indian who not only was not ashamed to preach aloud what he knew of our mysteries, but who was master of them.

At the same time, a vessel arrived which had passed by New Netherland, whose people are allies of the Mohawk Iroquois; they are distant seven days' journey from Susquehannock. Charles learned from them of the death of Father Jogues, who had been killed by the Iroquois in the previous Autumn. Besides, he was given two letters to bring to us, and a printed paper that they tore out of a Book. He lost one of those letters on the way; we have never been able to make out the other, except that it is dated in Latin, ex Nova Suecia, "from New Sweden." The printed page seems to us to contain some prayers in the Dutch language.

We think that the people of that European settlement, who are allies of the Susquehannocks, are mostly Dutch and English, or, rather, a collection of various nations who for some special reasons have placed themselves under the protection of the King of Sweden, and have called that country New Sweden. We had formerly thought that it was a part of Virginia. Their Interpreter told Charles that he was French by birth.

THE PROGRESS OF CHRISTIANITY IN THE HURON MISSIONS.

The Mission of la Conception is the most fruitful of all, as regards the number of Christians and their fervor.

The Mission of Saint Michel maintains itself vigorously, and increases daily in spite of the opposition of the Infidels.

The Mission of Saint Joseph is still the most populous, as it is the oldest.

The Mission of Saint Ignace, which is of more recent establishment than the others, manifests a fervor that astonishes the Infidels, and which we would never have expected to see in so short a time.

In these four Missions, the Faith has increased beyond our hopes, so that our Chapels are everywhere too small for the number of Christians even outside of the Feast-days; and in some places a Missionary must say two Masses on Sunday so that all the people may be able to attend. Though at each Mass the Church is filled, there are still a great many who have to remain outside, although they are exposed in winter-time to the severity of the snow and the cold.

The Mission of Saint Marie contains twelve or thirteen villages, which a single Father visits continually, with great fatigue. And we have happily found ourselves compelled, during the past eight months, to build another similar, but still more fatiguing, Mission, in some villages farther away from us, which we call "the Mission of Saint Magdelaine."

Those whom we call the Petun nation urged us to go and instruct them; we sent two of our Fathers, who carry on two Missions there, in two different Nations which occupy all of that country, one called the Wolf clan, which we have named the Mission of Saint John; we name the other the Mission of Saint Mathias, which is among those who are called the Deer clan.

There is much to endure among all those Missions as regards hunger, the blandness of the food, the cold, the smoke, the fatiguing roads, and the constant danger, in which one must live, of being killed by the Iroquois during their incursions, or of being taken captive, and enduring a thousand deaths before dying once.

One must be careful before condemning a thousand things among their customs, which offend minds brought up in another world. It is easy to call irreligion that which is merely stupidity, and to take for diabolical working something that is nothing more than human; and then one thinks he must forbid, as impious, certain things that are done in all innocence, or, at most, are silly but not criminal customs. These could be abolished more gently by persuading the Indians gradually to see their absurdity, to laugh at them, and to abandon them, not through motives of conscience, as if they were crimes, but through their own judgment, as follies.

We have been too severe on this point. God strengthened the courage of our Christians when they deprived themselves not only of harmless amusements, but also of the greatest pleasures of life, which we found it difficult to allow them to enjoy, because there seemed something irreligious in these, which made us fear sin there. It would have been better to be severe regarding the use of things offered to idols, and of animals smothered in their own blood. In any case, we find that such severity is no longer necessary, and that in many things we can be less rigorous than in the past.

THE ALGONQUIN MISSIONS.

THE great Lake Huron, which we call "the freshwater Sea," 1000 miles in circumference, one end of which beats against our house of Saint Marie, extends from East to West, and therefore its width is from North to South although it is irregular in form.

The Eastern and Northern shores of this Lake are inhabited by various Algonquin Tribes, Ottawas, Sakahiganiriouik, Aouasanik, Ojibwes, Amikwas, Achirigouans, Ojibwes, Michisaguek, Paouitagoung, -- with all of which we have a considerable acquaintance.

The last-named tribes are those whom we call the Ojibwes, who are distant from us a little over 250 miles. We would have to obtain passage through them if we wish to go further and communicate with numerous other Algonquin Tribes, still further away, who dwell on the shores of another lake larger than the freshwater sea (Lake Huron), into which it discharges by a large and rapid river; the river, before mingling its waters with those of our freshwater sea, rolls over a fall that gives its name to these peoples, who come there during the fishing season. This superior Lake extends toward the Northwest.

A Peninsula, or a rather narrow strip of lands, separates that superior Lake from a third Lake, which we call Green Bay, which also flows into our freshwater sea (Lake Huron) by a mouth on the other side of the Peninsula, about 25 miles farther West than Sault Ste. Marie. This third Lake extends between the West and Southwest, and is almost equal in size to our freshwater sea. On its shores dwell other nations whose language is unknown; it is neither Algonquin nor Huron. These peoples are called Puants (Winnebagos), not because of any bad odor that is peculiar to them; but, because they say that they come from the shores of a far distant sea toward the North, the water of which is salt, they are called "the people of the stinking water."

But let us return to our freshwater sea. On the South shore of this freshwater sea, or Lake Huron, dwell the following Algonquin Tribes: Ouachaskesouek, Nigouaouichirinik, Ottawa, Kichkagoneiak, and Ontaanak, who are all allies of our Hurons. With these we have considerable communication, but not with the following, who dwell on the shores of the same Lake farther toward the West, namely: the Ouchaouanag, who form part of Mascouten; the Ondatouatandy and the Ouinipegong, who are part of the Nation of the Winnebago.

Had we but enough people and enough means, we would find more employment in converting those peoples than would suffice for our lifetime. But, as there is a lack of laborers, we have been able to undertake only a portion of the task, that is, four or five Nations on this Lake, in each of whom there are already some Christians who will be the seed of a still greater conversion But it is impossible to conceive tile fatigues or the difficulty of preserving the little fruit that can be gathered there; because we are often six, seven, or eight months, and sometimes a whole year, without being able to meet these scattered flocks. For all these Tribes are nomads, and have no fixed residence, except at certain seasons of the years when fish are plentiful, and this compels them tone remain on the spot.

Therefore, they have no other Church than the woods and forests; no other Altar than the rocks on which break the waves of this Lake. However, the Fathers who go there to instruct them never fail to find a suitable place for saying Mass, and for administering the Sacraments to those poor Indians, with as much sacredness as in the proudest Temple of Europe. The Sky is as good as the vaults of a Church; and not for one day only has the earth been the footstool of him who has created it.

The Nipissings -- who inhabit the shores of another small Lake, about 200 miles in circumference, on the route that we follow in going down to Quebec, 175 or 200 miles from the Huron country -- have received fuller and more continuous teaching than the others. It is also among them that we began, some years ago, this Mission of the Algonquin Tribes, which we call "the Mission of the Holy Ghost."

Last Winter, many of those Algonquin Tribes came to winter here among the Hurons. Two of our Fathers, who have charge of the Missions in the Algonquin language, continued their instruction until Spring, when they dispersed. At the same time, our Fathers set out to follow them, carrying on two different Missions, one for the Algonquin Tribes dwelling on the Eastern shore of our freshwater sea (Lake Huron), and for the Nipissings; the other for the Tribes of the same Algonquin language who dwell along the Northern shore of the same Lake. The Eastern of these Missions is what we call "the Mission of the Holy Ghost;" the Northern, which we commence this year, has taken the name of "the Mission of Saint Peter."

To live among those Barbarians is to abandon oneself into the hands of God's Providence; for, although some have an affection for you, a single person is capable of murdering you when he pleases, without dread of being punished by anyone in the world.

Last Summer, an Algonquin, a Sorcerer by trade, or, at least, one of those who make profession of invoking the "Manitou", that is, the Devil, who found himself beaten in an argument by the Father, fell on him in a fury, threw him down, and dragged him by the feet through the coals and ashes; and had not some Indians hurried to his assistance, this man would have ended by murdering him. That is what one has to fear, even from friends.

Alarms of the enemies also cause fear, and sometimes compel all the people to scatter in the woods. A poor woman went so far into them last Summer, with three of her children, that they lost themselves; they were fifteen days without food, except the leaves of trees, and were reduced to the last extremity, when by accident they were found at the foot of a tree, awaiting death.

These good people are often without a Pastor, as they lead a nomad life.

A worthy Nipissing Christian, named Estienne Mangouch, told one of our Fathers that they have a custom among them, when a child dies, of throwing away its cradle; but that they had kept that of a little daughter of his who had died five years ago, after having received baptism; and that the Indians used it in turn for their children because they found that those who were put in it did not die, and were in good health.

GOOD SENTIMENTS OF SOME CHRISTIANS.

In the defeat of the Christians of the village of Saint Ignace, when those who were taken captive were bound and ordered to march away, they said their prayers all together. Late at night, when the difficulties of the journey through the snow, and the severity of the cold, compelled the enemies who conducted them to halt and to kindle a fire, the youngest of these good Christians -- who was at the same time the most notable among them, because he was a Captain, named Nicolas Annenharisonk -- spoke to a woman who was also a captive. The Christian woman to whom the captive young Captain had spoken was delivered from captivity on the following day. For he who had captured her was an Onondaga, who had been here as a hostage on account of the peace that is being negotiated with the Onondagas; and as he was among our Hurons on that hunting expedition, he was one of the first captured by the Senecas. They recognized him, and did him no harm; they even compelled him to follow them, and to take part in their victory, and therefore it happened that this Onondaga had accomplished her capture.

However, he desired to return on the following day, and told the Senecas that they could kill him if they liked, but that he could not follow them. He said that he would be ashamed to reappear in his own country, because the business in connection with the peace, which had brought him among the Hurons, would not permit him to do anything else but die with them, rather than appear to have behaved as an enemy. The Senecas therefore allowed him to return, and to take with him that good Christian woman who was his captive.

I observed that a good Christian returned from a long journey of six months' duration, still more fervent than when he had left us; and I wished to Inquire more minutely how he had managed to continue in a state of innocence that astonished me. "I was always on my guard," he replied; "in the morning, I thought that perhaps before noon I might be captured by the enemies, who are to be dreaded all along the way; and therefore I prepared myself for death. At noon, I thought that perhaps I might not live even until nightfall, and therefore I communed with God. In the evening, I feared that we might be surprised during the night, while we slept. When we reached a place of safety, I feared the dangers of the return journey. If I had had a Confessor near me I would perhaps have been less upon my guard, owing to the facility of obtaining pardon. On my arrival they presented me with a woman, but I would have nothing to do with her; on the following day, they brought me another, better formed, but she also was refused; they asked me to choose for myself the one that pleased me best. I told them that that was not what restrained me, but fear of a God, and the Belief in a Paradise and a Hell; and then I spoke to them of our mysteries, which they admired. They complained that the Europeans with whom they trade did not come to instruct them; and after that, they left me at peace in that respect."

THE CHIEF SUPERSTITIONS OF THE HURONS; AND THEIR OPINIONS RESPECTING DREAMS.

The Hurons believe that our souls have desires which are inborn and concealed. These, they say, come not through any knowledge, but by means of a certain blind transporting of the soul to certain objects.

They believe that our soul makes these natural desires known by means of dreams, which are its language. Accordingly, when these desires are accomplished, it is satisfied; but, on the contrary, if it be not granted what it desires, it becomes angry, and not only does not give its body the good and the happiness that it wished to procure for it, but often it also revolts against the body, causing various diseases, and even death.

The Hurons do not seek to ascertain from where this power, both for good and for evil, comes to the soul; for, as they are neither Physicists nor Philosophers, they do not inquire deeply into those matters, and they stop at the first ideas that they have of them, without seeking for more hidden causes, and without looking to see whether there be not some contradiction in their reasoning. Thus when, during sleep, we dream of something that is far away, they think that the soul issues forth from the body and proceeds to the place where those objects are that are pictured to it during all that time. They do not look further into the impossibility of such wanderings and long journeys being undertaken by our souls, detached from our bodies while they are asleep; they say, however, that it is not the sensitive soul that issues forth but only the rational one, which is not dependent upon the body in its workings.

Because of these erroneous ideas, most of the Hurons are careful to note their dreams, and to provide the soul with what it has pictured to them during their sleep. If, for instance, they have seen a javelin in a dream, they try to get it; if they have dreamed that they gave a feast, they will give one on awakening, if they have the means; and so on with other things. And they call this Ondinnonk, a secret desire of the soul shown by a dream.

Still, just as, although we did not always declare our thoughts and our inclinations by means of speech, those who by means of supernatural vision could see into the depths of our hearts would have a knowledge of them, in the same manner, the Hurons believe that there are certain persons whose sight penetrates into the depths of the soul. These see the natural and hidden desires that it has, though the soul has declared nothing by dreams, or though he who may have had the dreams has completely forgotten them. It is how their medicine-men, or, rather, their tricksters, whom they call Saokata, acquire credit, and make the most of their art by saying that a child in the cradle, who has neither discernment nor knowledge, will have an Ondinnonk, that is, a natural and hidden desire for such or such a thing; and that a sick person will have similar desires for various things of which he has never had any knowledge, or anything approaching it. For, as we shall explain further on, the Hurons believe that one of the most effective remedies for rapidly restoring health is to grant the soul of the sick person these natural desires.

The ways in which those Medicine-men and fraudsters claim to see the hidden desires in the soul of the sick person are different. Some look into a basin full of water, and say that they see various things pass over it, as over the surface of a mirror, a fine collar of wampum; a robe of black squirrel skins, which are here considered the most valuable; the skin of a wild ass, richly painted in the fashion of the country; and similar objects, which they say are the desires of the sick person's soul. Some fall into a frenzy, as the Sibyls formerly did; and after exciting themselves by singing in an astounding voice, they say that they see those things as if they were before their eyes. The others keep themselves concealed in a kind of tabernacle, and in the midst of the darkness pretend that they see around them the images of the objects for which they say that the sick person's soul has desires, which are frequently unknown to him.

But to return to ordinary dreams, not only do most of the Hurons try to gratify their souls' pretended desires for the things that are pictured to them in their dreams; but they also have a habit of giving a feast when they have had a favorable dream. For instance, if anyone has dreamed that he captured an enemy in combat, and split his head with a war-hatchet, he will give a feast, at which he will tell his guests of his dream, and will ask that he be given a present of a war-hatchet. And it never fails that someone among the guests will offer him one; for on such occasions they make it a point of honor to appear liberal and munificent.

They say that these feasts are given to compel the soul to keep its word, because they believe that it is pleased at seeing this expression of satisfaction for the favorable dream, and that it will set to work sooner to accomplish it. And, if they failed to do so, they think that that might be sufficient to prevent such a result, as if the indignant soul withdrew its word.

Not only do they give these feasts, but they are in the habit of mentioning these favorable dreams in their songs to hurry their effect, and so that their comrades may congratulate them beforehand, and have a greater esteem for them. And so, in France, a Captain who was going to war would be congratulated if it were believed that he was sure of the victory.

Still their dreams are nothing but illusions, and, if some turn out true, it is only by chance. Accordingly, after having carefully looked into the whole matter, I do not see that there is anything peculiar about their dreams. I mean to say that I do not think that the devil speaks to them, or has any communication with them in that way, although some fraudsters, to give themselves a reputation, say wondrous things of their dreams and pass themselves off as prophets, after events have occurred, by falsely proclaiming that they had a knowledge of them before they happened. Some who were considered the most clairvoyant had assured me that they were to attain a happy old age, and I have seen them die that year. But the trouble is that after their deaths they could not speak, to accuse their dreams of falseness.

OPINIONS OF THE HURONS REGARDING THEIR DISEASES.

THE Hurons recognize three kinds of diseases. Some are natural, and they cure these with natural remedies. Others, they believe, are caused by the soul of the sick person, which desires something; these they cure by obtaining for the soul what it desires. Finally, the others are diseases caused by a spell that some sorcerer has cast upon the flick person; these diseases are cured by withdrawing from the patient's body the spell that causes his sickness.

This spell may be a knot of hair; a piece of a man's nail, or of an animal's claw; a piece of leather, or of bone; a leaf of a tree, some grains of sand, or other similar things.

The charms are expelled sometimes by means of emetics, sometimes by sucking the diseased part, and extracting from it what is claimed to be the spell. In this, some tricksters are so expert in their art that with the point of a knife they seem to extract or rather they cause to appear whatever pleases them -- a piece of iron, or a pebble, which they say that they save drawn from the heart, or from inside the satient's bones, without, however, making any incision.

Although I do not think that they have any Diseases except those that are natural, still they are o apt to convince themselves of the contrary that they believe that most of their diseases arise either from desires or from witchcraft. Accordingly, if they be not soon cured of a disease which, as they cannot deny has had a natural cause, such, for instance, as a thrust from a javelin, or the bite of a bear, they at once say either that some sorcerer has a hand in it, and that some spell delays the cure; or else that; the soul itself has some desire that troubles it, and is killing the patient (for it is how they speak). Therefore, it frequently happens that they try, one after the other, all the remedies that they know of, for all those kinds of diseases.

This is due to the fact that they are convinced that natural remedies should infallibly produce their effect, and restore health, if the disease were a purely natural one, just as fire inevitably dispels cold. Consequently, when the sickness continues, they conclude that it must be due to some cause that is not natural; when they have tried the remedy for the disease, and have not obtained the result that they desired, they think that they have not sufficiently ascertained the chief cause of the sickness, and they attribute it to some other origin. There is no end to this; for, as these desires of the soul are imaginary, they may be infinite in number, as may also be the spells that might prevent a complete cure. They carry this notion so far that, after their tricksters have boasted that they have driven ten or twenty spells from the sick person's body, if they see that the disease continues, they attribute its cause to some other spell, which is still more concealed and cannot be removed by their art. And, in spite of that, those tricksters and their silly remedies still retain all their reputation in the minds of the Hurons -- as much as the most skillful Physicians and the most excellent remedies do in France; although in many instances they do not restore health.

What gives them this reputation is that, as they frequently rely on these senseless remedies, and use them for the slightest ailments that attack them, such as a headache, a pain in the stomach, a colic, or a slight fever, which would pass away by itself in a day, when they find themselves cured or slightly relieved of their illness, or even in their imagination, they attribute that good result to the tricksters. Add to this that not only the sick, but all the others, find it to their benefit to use most of those remedies; and each one is strongly inclined to believe that they are effective in restoring health.

See the order of proceedings in these cases. When a person falls ill, his relatives call in the Medicine-man, or, rather, the trickster, who is to decide as to the nature of the disease. If he say that the sickness is natural, they make use of potions, of emetics, or of certain waters which they apply to the diseased part, and sometimes of incising or of poultices. In this, their knowledge is slight; for it is limited to some powdered roots, and some plants gathered in season.

But these Medicine-men go further, and assert that it is a disease caused by desires, so that they may be employed in ascertaining what are those desires of the soul that trouble it. And sometimes they will mention to the patient four or five things which they tell him his soul desires, that is, he must try to find them, if he would recover his health. In this the tricksters are full of trickery and wickedness; for, if they see that a patient is not likely to recover, they will say that his soul has a desire for something that they think he can never procure; consequently, when the man dies, his death is attributed to that desire which could not be gratified.

But, when they see that the patient is a person of note, they usually play their last stake, and give a medical prescription that will arouse the entire public to activity. They will say that the sick person's soul has fifteen or sixteen desires, some of which will be for expensive and valuable objects; others for the most diverting dances in the country, for feasts, for ballets, and for all sorts of pastimes.

When the prescription is given, the Captains of the village hold a council, as in a matter of public importance, and deliberate whether they will exert themselves for the patient. And, if there be a number of sick who are persons of note, it is impossible to conceive the ambition and intrigue displayed by their relatives and friends to obtain the preference for them, because the public cannot pay those honors to all.

When the Captains have decided in favor of one of these, they send a delegation to the sick man to learn from his lips what his desires are. The patient knows well how to play his part on those occasions, for, though often the illnesses are slight, or are but illnesses of ambition, of vanity, or of greed, still he will reply in a dying voice that he is exhausted; that his involuntary desires are causing his death, and that they are for such and such a thing.

This is repeated to the Captains, and they set about procuring for the sick man the fulfillment of his desires; to that end they hold a public meeting, at which they urge all to contribute. And private individuals take a pride in showing themselves munificent on such occasions, for all this is done by sound of trumpet, each one striving to outdo his companion; so that, frequently, in less than an hour the patient will be provided with more than twenty valuable things which he has desired; and they remain to him when he recovers his health, or go to his relatives if he happen to die. Thus a man becomes wealthy in a day, and is provided with all that he needs; for, besides the things that are prescribed by the Medicine-man, the patient never fails to add many others, which, he says, have been shown to him in dreams, and on which the Preservation of his life depends.

Afterward, the dances are announced that are to be Performed in the cabin, and under the eyes of the Patient, during three or four consecutive days, and on which, it is also said, his health depends. Most of those dances resemble the branle that is danced in France; the others are in the form of ballets, with poses and harmonies that have nothing savage in them, and are according to the rules of art; all these are performed in cadence and in rhythm with the chanting of certain persons, who are masters of that calling.

It is the duty of the Captains to see that all is done in an orderly manner, and with much display. They go into the cabins to urge to that the men and women, but especially the elite of the young people; each one tries to make his appearance there dressed in his best, to keep up his importance, and to see and be seen. Afterward, the relatives of the sick person give splendid feasts, to which large crowds are invited; the choicest morsels fall to the lot of the most notable persons, and of those who have made the best show during those days of public magnificence.

After that, the patient never fails to say that he is cured, although he sometimes dies a day after the ceremony. But, as these illnesses are usually mere shams or slight passing ailments, the sick man is often cured; and that is what gives those remedies so great a reputation.

Such is the occupation of our Indians throughout the Winter; and most of the products of their hunting, their fishing, and their trading, and their wealth, are expended in these public recreations; and in dancing, the sick are cured. In these matters, though there be not only error, but also disorder, and frequently even sin, -- still, the evil is less than we at first thought.

A SPECIES OF CHARM WHICH THE HURONS USE; TO BRING GOOD FORTUNE.

MOST things that seem at all unnatural or extraordinary to our Hurons are easily accepted in their minds as "Oki", that is, things that have a supernatural virtue; and they think it lucky to find these, and they keep them as preciously as some impious men in Europe keep charms which they use to bring them good fortune.

If, for instance, our Hurons while hunting have some difficulty in killing a bear or a stag, and on opening it they find in its head or in its entrails something unusual, such as a stone or a snake, they will say that this is an Oki, and that it was what gave the animal such strength, and prevented it from dying; and they will take that stone or snake for a charm, and believe that it will bring them good fortune.

If in a tree, or while digging in the earth, they find a stone of peculiar shape, which, for instance, is made like a dish, a spoon, or a small earthen vessel, they will consider their discovery fortunate; for they say that certain Demons, who dwell in the woods, sometimes forget those articles there, and that it is a lucky thing for the person who finds them. They call such things Aaskouandy.

They say that those Aaskouandy, or charms, sometimes change their shape and appearance, and that a man who has put away the stone or the snake found in the entrails of a deer will be astonished, next day, to find in its place a bean, or a grain of corn, or sometimes the beak of a raven, or the talons of an eagle, as if that Aaskouandy, or familiar Demon, transformed himself, and took pleasure in therefore deceiving men by those metamorphoses. But these myths are believed because they are frequently told, each one saying that he heard it from another, and not one has seen it himself, except some fraudsters who say it to acquire credit, to make their Aaskouandy more highly thought of, and to be able to sell it dear.

They believe that these Aaskouandy will make them lucky in hunting, in fishing, in trade, or at play; and they say that some have a general virtue for all those things, but that the virtue of the others is limited to a certain thing, and does not extend to another; and that, to know in what they bring good fortune, one must be told of it in a dream.

It is a quite common practice for those who have these Aaskouandy to give them a feast from time to time, as if, by giving a feast in honor of that familiar Demon, they make him more favorable to them. At other times, they will invoke him in their songs, and will ask their friends also to join them, and to help them in those prayers.

There is a certain kind of charm which they call Onniont, and which they believe to have still greater virtue. They say that this Onniont is a sort of serpent, of almost the shape of the armored Fish, and that this serpent pierces everything that it meets on its way, trees, bears, and even rocks, without ever deviating from its course, or being stopped by anything. And, on account of this so rare effectiveness, they call it the Oki, par excellence, that is, a true Demon; and they believe that those who can kill it, or obtain a piece of it, bring good fortune on themselves. Our Hurons say that they know nothing of that wondrous Serpent, but that all their knowledge of it is derived from the reports of the Algonquins, who sell to them, at a high price, even a piece so small that it is difficult to make out whether it is wood, leather, or a morsel of flesh or of fish.

However, if I be asked whether these Aaskouandy bring good fortune, I will say that I know nothing about it; but I have never observed that they who own those charms are more successful than the others, when they go to trade; and if they bring back more, it is because they have taken more with them, and often they return poorer than when they started. In the fisheries, I do not find that their nets are better filled with fish. In hunting, the most robust, those who run most swiftly, and who are the least lazy, are those who generally come back with the heaviest loads. Often, at play, those who lose the most are those who profess to own some charm that brings good fortune. And there is a proverb among the Hurons themselves that skill, strength, and vigilance are the most powerful Aaskouandy that a man can have.

OPINION OF THE HURONS REGARDING DISEASES WHICH THEY CONSIDER TO BE CAUSED BY WITCHCRAFT OF THEIR FORTUNE TELLERS AND MAGICIANS.

THE Hurons believe that there is a kind of monstrous serpent which they call Angont, which brings with it disease, death, and almost every misfortune in the world. They say that that monster lives in subterranean places, in caverns, under a rock, in the woods, or in the mountains, but generally in the Lakes and Rivers.

They say that the Sorcerers use the flesh of that frightful serpent to cause the deaths of those upon whom they cast their spells. With that poisonous flesh they rub some object, a blade of corn, a tuft of hair, a piece of leather or of wood, the claw of an animal, or some similar thing. The objects therefore rubbed with that ointment derive from it a malignant effectiveness that causes them to penetrate into a man's entrails, into his most vital parts, and into the marrow of his bones, carrying with them disease and suffering, which consume and cause to perish those who are attacked by them, unless, through some contrary virtue, means are found to draw out those objects to which the spell is attached.

Whether there are Sorcerers in this country, I mean, men who cause death by witchcraft, is what I cannot decide. I can merely say that, after having carefully examined all that is said about it, I have not yet found any sufficiently rational foundation for the belief that there are any here who carry on that Hellish trade. For, in the first place, we see that the diseases which they attribute to witchcraft are natural and ordinary diseases.

In the second place, we see that those who claim to extract those spells from the bodies of the sick, either are mere fraudsters, who will show some wondrous thing that they pretend to have taken from the most vital parts of a man, though it has never entered there; or, if they, by means of emetics, produce the ejection of a tuft of hair, a piece of leaf or of wood, or any other similar object accompanying the matter of which nature has relieved itself, they imagine without any reason that some spell is connected with that piece of wood or tuft of hair.

Finally, those who have the reputation among them of being Sorcerers, and who are even put to death on that suspicion, have nothing about them to make them deserve it, except either the fancy of a sick man, who will say that he has dreamed that such a one is causing his death by a spell; or the malice of an enemy, who will spread a rumor of that sort; or the too suspicious imagination of someone who, because he has seen him in the woods or in some out-of-the-way part of the country, will say that he was preparing spells there. For such are the things that are alleged against them at their trial; or, rather, those miserable men are killed as Sorcerers, without any form of trial; and no one will dare to undertake their defense, or to avenge their deaths. Beyond a doubt, such reasons are too slight to justify the belief that those wretches are Sorcerers; our Hurons call them "Oki ontatechiata", that is, "those who kill by spells," which none of them profess to do.

But they call "Arendioouane" certain tricksters who are fortune tellers and Magicians. Some profess to cause either rain or fine weather, according as one or the other is needed for the good of the soil. Others thrust themselves forward as Prophets, and predict future events, for instance, whether success will be had in war; or they see what is passing at a distance, whether the enemy has taken the field, for example; or again they discover hidden things, as, for instance, the perpetrator of a theft.

These fraudsters assert that they possess that power and that piercing sight through the favor of a Demon, who is their familiar; and their word is believed, -- or, at least, provided one out of a hundred of their prophecies be true, that suffices to gain them great renown. I have seen some who claimed to have worked wonders, to have changed a rod into a serpent, or to have brought a dead animal back to life. By force of their saying it, some believed them, and even said that they had seen it. They have boasted in our presence that they could do such things, for they doubtless expected that we would take words for deeds; but we defied these gentry, and, to goad them to greater activity, to cover them publicly with confusion, for we were quite sure that they would never succeed, we promised them great rewards, if they performed those miracles. They try to withdraw without confusion; but their shameful retreat was a solemn admission that their game was nothing but deception, and that they were considered truthful only by those who accept such falsehoods without looking into them.

WHAT KNOWLEDGE THE PAGAN HURONS HAD OF THE DIVINITY.

All the nations of these countries have received from their ancestors no knowledge of a God; and before we set foot here, all that was told about the creation of the world consisted of nothing but myths.

Still, though they were barbarians, there remained in their hearts a secret idea of the Divinity and of a first Principle, the author of all things, whom they invoked without knowing him. In the forests and during hunting, on the waters, and when in danger of shipwreck, they name him Aireskouy Soutanditenr, and call him to their aid. In war, and in the midst of their battles, they give him the name of Ondoutaete and believe that he alone awards the victory. frequently, they address themselves to the Sky, paying it homage; and they call upon the Sun to be witness of their courage, of their misery, or of their innocence. In the treaties of peace and alliance with foreign Nations they invoke, as witnesses of their sincerity, the Sun and the Sky, which see into the depths of their hearts, and will wreak vengeance on the treachery of those who betray their trust and do not keep their word.

The Ottawas, who are of the Algonquin race, are in the habit of invoking almost always in their feasts him who has created the Sky, asking him for health and a long life; for success in their wars, in hunting, in fishing, and in all their trading; and with that object they offer him the meats that are eaten at the feast. To the same end they also throw tobacco in the fire, offering it by name to the Genie who has created the Sky, to whom they believe to be different from the one who has created the earth. And they add that there is a special Genie who has made winter, and that he Wells in the North, from where he sends forth snow and old; and that there is another who has dominion over the waters, and who causes storms and ship-wrecks. They say that the winds are produced by seven other Genii who dwell in the air beneath the Sky, and who blow the seven winds that prevail in these countries.

But even when those barbarous peoples invoke the Creator of the world in this fashion, they admit that they do not know who he is; they have neither fear of his justice, nor love for his Goodness.

THE MURDER OF A FRENCHMAN KILLED BY THE HURONS, AND THE REPARATION THAT WAS MADE FOR IT.

I shall speak of a murder committed on the person of one of our servants, named Jacques Douart. That young man, who was twenty-two years of age, wandered a short distance from the house on the evening of the twenty-eighth of April, and was killed by a blow from a hatchet.

We could not doubt that the murder had been committed by some Hurons, and we have since obtained positive information of it. We have learned that six Captains, belonging to three different villages, were the instigators of it; and that they employed, to commit the crime, two brothers, who started that day from a distance of 12 miles, with the plan of killing the first Frenchman whom they might meet alone.

On the day following the outrage, when our Christians of the neighboring villages heard the news, they flocked from all points to our house of Saint Marie.

The whole country was in commotion, and the most notable persons among the nations who dwell in it were summoned to attend a general meeting on the matter. Those who had secretly been the instigators of the murder showed themselves in their true colors as enemies of the Faith, saying that the doors of their villages should be closed to us, and that we should be driven from the country. Some even added that all the Christians should be banished from it, and their number be prevented from increasing. But the fervor of those good Christians shone out with great brightness on that occasion. Some said that they would willingly abandon their relatives and their country.

Two or three days passed in these contests on both sides. Finally, our Christians prevailed, for it comprised many Captains and persons of note, who carried even the majority of the infidels with them; so that it was publicly decided that reparation should be made to us in the name of the whole country for the murder that had been committed.

It would be attempting the impossible to try and proceed with Indians according to the method in which justice is administered in France, where he who is convicted of murder is put to death. Every country has its customs, which are in accordance with the diverse nature of each nation. In view of the character of the Indians, their justice is effective for repressing evil, though in France it would be looked upon as injustice; for it is the public who make reparation for the offenses of individuals, whether the criminal be known or remain hidden. It is the crime that is punished. I have thought that it would be only natural curiosity to seek to know what their customs and the formalities of their law are in this respect. Here, therefore, is what occurred.

When the Captains had come to their decision, we were summoned to their general meeting. An elder spoke on behalf of all, and, speaking to me as the chief of the French, he delivered a speech to us that savors not at all of Savagery, and teaches us that eloquence is more a gift of nature than of art. I add nothing to it.

"My brother," the Captain said to me, "here are all the nations assembled." (He named them one after the other.) "we are now but a handful of people; you alone support this country, and bear it in your hand. A bolt from the Heavens has fallen in the midst of our land, and has rent it open; should you cease to sustain us, we would fall into the abyss. Have pity oil us. We come here to weep for our loss, as much as for your, rather than speak. This country is now but a dried skeleton without flesh, without veins, without sinews, and without arteries, like bones that hold together only by a delicate thread. The blow that has fallen on the head of your nephew, for whom we weep, has cut that bond. A demon from Hell put the hatchet in the hand of him who committed that murder. Is it you, O Sun which illuminates us, that led him to do that evil deed? Why did you not hide your light, so that he himself might have a horror of his crime? were you his accomplice? Not at all, for he walked in the darkness, and did not see where his blow struck. He, the wretched murderer, thought that he was aiming at the head of a young Frenchman; and with the same blow he struck his country, and inflicted on it a mortal wound. The earth opened to receive the blood of the innocent, and has left an abyss that is to swallow us up, since we are the guilty ones. Our enemies, the Iroquois, will rejoice at that death, and will hold a solemn triumph over it, when they see that our weapons destroy ourselves, and strike a blow in their favor, from which they know that this country cannot recover."

He continued for a long time in this strain; then, speaking once more to me, he added:

"My brother, have pity on this country. You alone can restore life to it; it is for you to collect all those scattered bones, for you to close up the mouth of the abyss that seeks to swallow us. Have pity on your country. I say 'your', for you are the master of it, and we come here like criminals to receive our warrant of condemnation, if you desire to act without mercy toward us. Have pity on those who condemn themselves, and who come to ask pardon of you. It is you who have strengthened this country by residing in it. If you should withdraw from our midst, we would be like a straw pulled out from the earth that serves but as a sport for the winds. This country is an Island; it has now become a floating one, to be overwhelmed by the first outburst of the storm. Make the floating Island firm and stationary. Posterity will praise you for it, and the memory of it will never fade. At the first news of that death, we abandoned everything, and brought only tears with us, being quite prepared to receive your orders and to comply with your demand. Therefore, speak now, and ask whatever satisfaction you wish, for our lives and our property belong to you. And, when we strip our children to bring you the satisfaction that you desire, we shall tell them that it is not you whom they must blame, but him who has made us criminals by striking so evil a blow. Against him shall our indignation be turned, and for you we shall never have anything but love. He had caused our deaths, and you will restore us to life, provided you will speak and tell us your thoughts."

After replying to that speech, we placed in their hands a bundle of small sticks, a little larger and thicker than matches, tied together; these indicated the number of presents that we desired as satisfaction for the murder. Our Christians had informed us of all their customs, and had strongly urged us to be firm if we did not wish completely to spoil matters pertaining to God and those that concerned ourselves, which they considered as their own affair.

The Captains at once divided the sticks among themselves, so that, as each Nation provided a portion of the presents demanded, reparation was made to us according to the custom of the country. But it was necessary for each one to return to his own village, to gather all his people together, and to urge them to provide that number of presents. No one is compelled to do so; but those who are willing bring publicly what they wish to contribute, and they vie with one another in proportion as their wealth, and the desire for glory, or for appearing solicitous for the public good, animate them on such occasions.

When the day designated for the ceremony had arrived, crowds flocked to it from all parts. The meeting was held outside our house. In the evening, four Captains were appointed by the general council to come and speak to me; two were Christians, and two infidels. They presented themselves at the door. Here not a word is said, nor a thing done, except by presents; these are formalities that must be strictly observed, and without which no business can be considered as properly transacted.

The first present of those Captains was given so the door might be opened to them; a second present so they could be permitted to enter. We could have exacted as many presents as there were doors to be passed before reaching the place where I awaited them.

When they had entered, they commenced to speak to me by means of a present which they call "the wiping away of tears." "We wipe away your tears by this gift," they said to me, "so that your sight may be no longer dim when you cast your eyes on this country which has committed the murder." Then came the present that they call "a beverage." "This," they said, "is to restore your voice which you have lost, so that it may speak kindly." A third present was to calm the agitated mind; a fourth, to soothe the feelings of a justly irritated heart. Most of these gifts consist of wampum beads, of shells, and of other things that here constitute the riches of the country, but which in France would be considered poor.

Then followed nine other presents, to erect a sepulchre for the deceased, for each gift has its lame: four presents, for the four columns that are to support the sepulchre; four others, for the cross-pieces on which the bed of the deceased is to rest; And a ninth present, to serve him as a bolster.

After that, eight Captains, from the eight nations that constitute the Huron country, brought each a present for the eight principal bones in the frame of ale human body, the feet, the thighs, the arms.

Here their custom compelled me to speak, and to give a present of about three thousand wampum beads, telling them that this was to make their land level, so that it might receive them more gently when they should be overthrown by the violence of the reproaches that I was to address to them for having committed so foul a murder.

On the following day, they built a kind of stage in a public place; on this they suspended fifty presents, which are the principal part of the reparation and which bear that name. What precedes and what follows are only accessories.

For a Huron killed by a Huron, they are generally content with thirty presents; for a woman, forty are demanded, because, they say, women cannot so easily defend themselves; and as it is they who people the country, their lives should be more valuable to the public, and their weakness should find a powerful protection in justice. For a stranger, still more are exacted; because they say that otherwise murders would be too frequent, trade would be prevented, and wars would too easily arise between different nations.

Those to whom reparation is made carefully examine all those presents and reject such as do not please them; these have to be replaced by others which satisfy them.

That is not all. The body for which a sepulchre is built must not lie naked there; it must be clothed from head to foot, that is, as many presents must be given as there are articles of clothing required to dress it, according to its condition. To that end they gave three presents that bear only the names of the things that they represent, a shirt, a doublet, trunk-hose, shoes, and a hat; and a musket, gunpowder, and lead.

After that, it was necessary to draw out from the wound the hatchet with which the blow had been struck, that is, they gave a present bearing that name. As many presents are needed as there have been blows received by the deceased, to close all the wounds.

Then came three other presents, the first, to close the earth, which had gaped in horror at the crime; a second, to trample it down; and then, it is customary for all the young men, and even for the oldest, to commence dancing, to show their joy that the earth no longer yawns to swallow them in its womb. The third present is for the purpose of throwing a stone upon it, so that the abyss may be more inviolably closed, and may not reopen.

After that, they gave seven other presents, the first, to restore the voice of all our Missionaries; the second, to urge our servants not to turn their arms against the murderer, but rather against the Iroquois, the enemies of the country; the third, to appease the Governor when he should hear of the murder; the fourth, to rekindle the fire that we always kept up to warm passersby; the fifth, to reopen the door of our hospice to our Christians; the sixth, to replace in the water the boat in which they cross the river when they come to visit us; the seventh, to replace the paddle in the hands of a young boy, who has charge of that ferry. We could have exacted two other similar presents to rebuild our house, to build again our Church, and to set up again four large Crosses, which stand at the four corners of our enclosure. But we contented ourselves with those.

Finally, they concluded the whole with three presents given by the three principal Captains of the country, to calm our minds, and to ask us to love those people always. All the presents that they gave us amounted to about one hundred.

We also gave some, in return, to all the eight nations individually, to strengthen our alliance with them; to the whole country, to urge them to remain united together, so they could, with the French, better resist their enemies. Another present of some value was given to complain of the slanders that were circulated against the Faith, and against the Christians, as if all the misfortunes that happen in these countries -- such as war, amine, and disease -- were brought here by the Faith that we come to teach them. We also gave them come presents to console them for the loss they had recently suffered through the killing of some persons by the enemy. Finally, we ended with a present which assured them that the Governor and all the French of Quebec of Montreal, and of Three Rivers, would have nothing but love for them, and would forget the murder, since they had made reparation for it.

YEAR 1649
LETTER OF FATHER PAUL RAGUENEAU TO THE REVEREND FATHER VINCENT CARAFFA, GENERAL OF THE JESUITS, AT ROME. 1649

Reverend Father,

There are here eighteen Fathers, four assistant-bishops, twenty-three French laymen, seven servants (to whom alone wages are paid), four boys, and eight soldiers.

We are so threatened by the hostile rage of our Indian enemies that, unless we wish our enterprise and ourselves to perish in an hour, and that the faith, now widely spread in these lands, should be utterly destroyed, it was quite necessary for us to seek the protection of these men, who devote themselves to both domestic duties and farm work, and also to building fortifications, and to military service. For since, until late years, our abode, which we call the Residence of Ste. Marie, was surrounded on every side by the numerous villages of our friends, the Hurons, we feared more for them than for ourselves from hostile attack; so during that time, however small our number, we lived in safety, without anxiety. But now, far different is the aspect of our affairs and of this whole region; for so crushed are our Hurons by disasters, their outposts being taken and laid waste with fire and sword, most of them have been forced to change their abodes, and retreat elsewhere; so at last we are devoid of the protection of others, and now we, stationed at the front, must defend ourselves with our own strength, our own courage, and our own numbers.

This our dwelling -- or shall I say our fort?-- of Saint Marie, the French who are with us defend, while our Fathers sally forth, far and wide, scattered among the villages of the Hurons, and through the Algonquin tribes far distant from us, each one watching over his own mission, and intent only upon the ministry of the word, leaving all worldly cares to those who remain at home.

Domestic matters keep so fortunate a course that, although our number has increased, and we desire new help to be sent us, both of laymen and, especially, of our own fathers, still in no way is it necessary to increase expenses. On the contrary, they are lessened daily, and each year we ask for less worldly aid to be sent us, so much so that we can, mostly, support ourselves upon what is here produced. There is not one of our Jesuits who does not feel in this respect great relief from those distresses which were in former years burdensome, and seemed insurmountable. For we have larger supplies from fishing and hunting than formerly; and we have not merely fish and eggs, but also pork, and milk products, and even cattle, from which we hope for great addition to our store.

Christianity has certainly made progress here, in many ways, beyond our expectation. We baptized, the past year, about one thousand seven hundred, not counting many whom we shall mention below as baptized by Father Antoine Daniel, the number of whom could not be accurately given.

We maintain eleven missions, eight in the Huron language, and three Algonquin. The work is divided between an equal number of Fathers who have had experience. Four, sent to us last year, devote their time to learning the language; and these we have assigned as helpers to the chief missionaries. Thus only three Fathers remain at home, one as spiritual Director, another as Procurator and minister, the third to look after the needs of the Christians, who come to us from every quarter. For out of our own poverty we minister to the poverty of the Christians, and heal their diseases both of soul and body. Last year, nearly six thousand partook of our hospitality. While this year famine has been heavy upon the villages on all sides of us, and now weighs upon them even more heavily, no blight of evil has fallen upon us; nay, we have enough provisions upon which to live comfortably during three years.

But one thing -- the fear of war -- seems able to overthrow the happy state of this infant Church, and stay the advance of Christianity; for it grows yearly, and it is clear that no help can come to us save from God alone.

The latest disaster that befell our Hurons -- in July of last years 1648 -- was the severest of all. Many of them had made ready to visit our French people in the direction of Quebec, to trade; other tasks had drawn some away from their villages; while many had undertaken a hostile expedition in another direction; when suddenly the enemy came upon them, stormed two villages, rushed into them, and set them on fire. With their accustomed cruelty they dragged into captivity mothers with their children, and showed no mercy to any age.

Of these villages, one was called Saint Joseph; this was one of our principal missions, where a church had been built, where the people had been instructed in Christian rites, and where the faith had taken deep root. In charge of this Church was Father Antoine Daniel, a man of great courage and endurance, whose gentle kindness was conspicuous among his great virtues. He had hardly finished the usual mass after sunrise, and the Christians, who had assembled in considerable numbers, had not yet left the sacred house, when, at the war-cry of the enemy, in urgency and alarm they seized their weapons. Some rush into the fight, others flee headlong; everywhere is terror, everywhere lamentation.

Antoine hurried wherever he saw the danger most threatening, and bravely encouraged his people, inspiring not only the Christians with Christian strength, but many unbelievers with faith. He was heard to speak of contempt for death, and of the joys of Paradise, with such enthusiasm of soul that he seemed already to enjoy its bliss. Indeed, many sought baptism; and so great was the number that he could not attend to each one separately, but was forced to dip his handkerchief in the water and baptize by sprinkling the multitude who thronged around him.

Meanwhile, there was no stopping in the ferocious attack of the enemy, and everywhere resounded the noise of muskets. Many fell around him who received at the same instant the life-giving water of baptism, and the stroke of death. When he saw that his people had fled, he himself, intent upon the gain of souls, mindful of the safety of others, but forgetful of his own, hurried into the cabins to baptize the sick, the aged, and children, and filled them with his own fervor. At last, he went to the church, where the hope of eternal glory had brought many Christians, and the fear of hell-fire many Christian trainees. To these he gives new life by baptism. Almost his only words were: "Brothers, today we shall be in Paradise: believe this, hope this, that God may forever love you."

Already the foe had scaled the rampart, and throughout the village the torch had been applied, and the cabins were burning. The victors are informed that there is rich plunder, easy to get, if they will hurry to the church; that there numbers of old people, and women, and a band of children, are gathered. there they hurry with discordant shouts, after their manner. The Christians see the enemy approaching. Antoine bids them flee wherever escape is yet possible. That he may delay the enemy, and, like a good shepherd, aid the escape of his flock, he blocks the way of the armed men and breaks their onset; a single man against the foe, but truly filled with divine strength, he, who during all his life had been as the gentlest dove, was brave as a Lion while he met death. I might apply to him that saying of Jeremias: "He has abandoned his covert as the Lion, for the land is laid waste because of the wrath of the dove, and because of the fierce anger of the Lord." At last he fell, mortally wounded by a musket-shot; and pierced with arrows, he yielded to God the blessed life which he laid down for his flock. Savagely enraged against his lifeless body, hardly one of the enemy was there who did not add a new wound to his corpse: until, the church having been set on fire, his naked body cast into the midst of the flames was so completely consumed that not even a bone was left; he could not have found a more glorious funeral pyre.

In therefore delaying the enemy, he helped his escaping flock even after his death. Many reached places of safety; others the victors overtook, especially mothers, at every step delayed by the babes at their breasts, or by those whose childish years -- unaccustomed to prudent fear -- betrayed their hiding-places.

Antoine had just finished his fourteenth year at this Huron Mission, everywhere a useful man; but certainly ripe for heaven, and the first man of our Jesuits to be taken from us."

Paul Ragueneau.

From the Residence of Saint Marie, among the Hurons, New France, March 1, 1649.

LETTER OF FATHER JACQUES BUTEUX TO THE REVEREND FATHER VINCENT CARAFFA, GENERAL OF THE JESUITS. 1649

Father Vincent Caraffa, Reverend General of the Jesuits,

Your letter, dated September 29, came to us. Just when misfortunes were surrounding us on all sides: conflicts without, which the fierce barbarians were stirring up; fears within, in case a great multitude of neophytes be abandoned by us, to wander like beasts through the forests. God has consoled us through your letter, in which you promise relief to us, not only those workmen from France whom we have already received, but also what we hope for in the way of masses from the Fathers of the Jesuits; if ever we have needed these, we need them most at this time, when we are involved in manifest' peril of our safety. For we are likely to undergo the same tortures and afflictions which our Fathers among the Hurons have undergone, as will be evident to you from their own letters.

Here at Three Rivers, where we take charge of the French as well as of the Indians, there are no defenses except of wood; no walls except fences, which easily catch fire; there is no house except of bark or thatch; and in these we live, with no defense against barbarian attack. We are five in all, of the Jesuits, three priests and two Brothers; and we have six servants, whose labor we need for cultivating the earth, and for aiding the Indians in the same way.

Jacques buteux.

At Three Rivers, September 21, 1649.

AN ACCOUNT OF THE MARTYRDOM OF FATHER JEAN DE BREBOEUF AND OF FATHER GABRIEL L'ALEMANT, IN NEW FRANCE, IN THE COUNTRY OF THE HURONS, BY THE IROQUOIS, ENEMIES OF THE FAITH.

FATHER Jean de Breboeuf and Father Gabriel L'Alemant had set out from our cabin, to go to a small Village, called St. Ignace, distant from our cabin about a short half mile, to instruct the Indians and the new Christians of that Village. It was on the 16th Day of March, in the morning, that we perceived a great fire at the place to which these two good Fathers had gone. This fire made us uneasy; we did not know whether it were enemies, or if the fire had caught in some of the huts of the village.

The Reverend Father Paul Ragueneau, our Superior, immediately Resolved to send someone to learn what might be the cause. But no sooner had we formed the plan of going there to see, than we perceived several Indians on the road, coming straight toward us. We all thought it was the Iroquois who were coming to attack us; but, having considered them more closely, we perceived that they were Hurons who were fleeing from the fight, and who had escaped from the combat. these poor Indians caused great pity in us. They were all covered with wounds. One had his head fractured; another his arm broken; another had an arrow in his eye; another had his hand cut off by a blow from a hatchet. And so, the day was passed in receiving into our cabins all these poor wounded people, and in looking with compassion toward the fire, and the place where were those two good Fathers. We saw the fire and the Indians, but we could not see anything of the two Fathers.

This is what these Indians told us of the taking of the Village of St. Ignace, and about Fathers Jean de Brebceuf and Gabriel L'Allemant:

"The Iroquois came, to the number of twelve hundred men; took our village, and seized Father Breboeuf and his companion; and set fire to all the huts. They proceeded to vent their rage on those two Fathers; for they took them both and stripped them entirely naked, and fastened each to a post. They tied both of their hands together. They tore the nails from their fingers. They beat them with a shower of blows from cudgels, on the shoulders, the loins, the belly, the legs, and the face, there being no part of their body which did not endure this torment.

Although Father Breboeuf was overwhelmed under the weight of these blows, he did not cease continually to speak of God, and to encourage all the new Christians who were captives like himself to suffer well. While the good Father was encouraging these good people, a wretched Huron renegade, who had remained a captive with the Iroquois, and whom Father de Breboeuf had formerly baptized, hearing him speak of Paradise and baptism, was irritated, and said to him, "Echon," that is Father de Breboeuf's name in Huron, "you say that Baptism and the sufferings of this life lead straight to Paradise; you will go soon, for I am going to baptize you, and to make you suffer well, to go the sooner to your Paradise." The Indian, having said that, took a kettle full of boiling water, which he poured over his body three different times, in derision of baptism. And, each time that he baptized him in this manner, the Indian said to him, with bitter sarcasm, "Go to Heaven, for you are well baptized."

After that, they made him suffer several other torments. The first was to make hatchets red-hot, and to apply them to the loins and under the armpits. They made a collar of these red-hot hatchets, and put it on the neck of this good Father. This is the fashion in which I have seen the collar made for other prisoners: They make six hatchets red-hot, take a large branch of green wood, pass the 6 hatchets over the large end of the branch, take the two ends together, and then put it over the neck of the sufferer. I have seen no torment which more moved me to compassion than that. For you see a man, bound naked to a post, who, having this collar on his neck, cannot tell what posture to take. For, if he lean forward, those above his shoulders weigh the more on him; if he lean back, those on his stomach make him suffer the same torment; if he keep erect, without leaning to one side or other, the burning hatchets, applied equally on both sides, give him a double torture.

After that they put on him a belt of bark, full of pitch and resin, and set fire to it, which roasted his whole body. During all these torments, Father de Breboeuf endured like a rock, insensible to fire and flames, which astonished all the bloodthirsty wretches who tormented him. His fervor was so great that he preached continually to these infidels, to try to convert them. His executioners were enraged against him for constantly speaking to them of God. To prevent him from speaking more, they cut off his tongue, and both his upper and lower lips. After that, they set themselves to strip the flesh from his legs, thighs, and arms, to the bone; and then put it to roast before his eyes, to eat it.

While they tormented him in this manner, those wretches derided him, saying: "You see plainly that we treat you as a friend, since we shall be the cause of your Eternal happiness; thank us for these good deeds which we render you, for, the more you will suffer, the more will your God reward you."

Those butchers, seeing that the good Father began to grow weak, made him sit down on the ground; and one of them, taking a knife, cut off the skin covering his skull. Another one of those barbarians, seeing that the good Father would soon die, made an opening in the upper part of his chest, and tore out his heart, which he roasted and ate. Others came to drink his blood, still warm, which they drank with both hands, saying that Father de Brebceuf had been courageous to endure so much pain, and that, by drinking his blood, they would become courageous like him."

This is what we learned of the death of Father Jean de Breboeuf, by several Christian Indians worthy of belief, who had been constantly present from the time the good Father was taken until his death. These good Christians were prisoners of the Iroquois, who were taking them into their country to be put to death. But they escaped on the way, and they came to us to recount all that I have set down in writing.

Father de Breboeuf was captured on the 16th day of March, in the morning, with Father Lalemant, in 1649. Father de Brebceuf died the same day as his capture, about 4 o'clock in the afternoon. Those barbarians threw the remains of his body into the fire; but the fat which still remained on his body extinguished the fire, and he was not consumed. I think that all which I have just related is true, and I would seal it with my blood; for I have seen the same treatment given to Iroquois prisoners whom the Huron Indians had taken in war, with the exception of the boiling water, which I have not seen poured on anyone.

I am about to describe to you what I saw of the deaths of Father Jean de Brebceuf and of Father Gabriel L'Alemant. On the next morning, when we had assurance of the departure of the enemy, we went to the spot to seek for the remains of their bodies, to the place where their lives had been taken. We found them both but a little apart from each other.

They were brought to our cabin, and laid uncovered upon the bark of trees, where I examined them at leisure for more than two hours, to see if what the Indians had told us of their death were true. I examined first the Body of Father de Brebeuf, which was pitiful to see, as well as that of Father L'Alemant. Father de Brebceuf had his legs, thighs, and arms stripped of flesh to the bone; I saw and touched a large number of great blisters, which he had on several places on his body, from the boiling water which these barbarians had poured over him in mockery of baptism. I saw and touched the wound from a belt of bark, full of pitch and resin, which roasted his whole body. I saw and touched the marks of burns from the Collar of hatchets placed on his shoulders and stomach. I saw and touched his two lips, which they had cut off because he constantly spoke of God while they made him suffer. I saw and touched all parts of his body, which had received more than two hundred blows from a stick. I saw and touched the top of his scalped head; I saw and touched the opening which these Indians had made to tear out his heart. And so, I saw and touched all the wounds of his body, as the Indians had told and declared to us.

We buried these precious Relics on Sunday, the 21st day of March, 1649, with much Consolation. I had the happiness of carrying them to the grave, and of burying them with those of Father Gabriel L'Alemant. When we left the country of the Hurons, we raised both bodies out of the ground, and set them to boil in strong lye. All the bones were well scraped, and the care of drying them was given me. I put them every day into a little oven which we had, made of clay, after having heated it slightly; and when in a state to be packed, they were separately enveloped in silk cloth. Then they were put into two small chests, and we brought them to Quebec, where they are held in great veneration.

Christophe Regnaut.

THE MISSION OF THE HURONS, A COUNTRY OF NEW FRANCE, IN 1647 AND 1648. TO THE REVEREND FATHER, FATHER CLAUDE DE LINGENDES, PROVINCIAL OF THE JESUITS IN THE PROVINCE OF FRANCE.

Reverend Father,

The Report of the Hurons which I send will show you the desolation of those poor upper nations, the massacre of the flower of our Christians, the glorious death of three of their Pastors, and their retreat with a part of their flock into an Island of their great lake. But the Baptism of more than two thousand Indians, and the courage and hope for the future with which God fills the minds and hearts of all those who are among the Hurons, cause me to hope much for the future.

Sir d'Ailleboust, our Governor, has done his utmost to help the country on this occasion, sending there forces and munitions to resist the enemies. About sixty Frenchmen have gone up there this year in two bands, the first of which was to return this Autumn, and the other to winter in the country. We do not yet know the outcome of their journey.

The Iroquois have given us a little rest down here, but I do not know whether it will be for long.

From Quebec, this 8th September, 1649.

Jerome Lalemant.

THE CAPTURE OF THE VILLAGES OF THE MISSION OF ST. JOSEPH, IN THE SUMMER OF 1648

LAST Summer, in the past year, 1648, the Iroquois, enemies of the Hurons, took from them two frontier villages, from which most of the defenders had gone forth, some for hunting, and others for purposes of war, in which they could meet no success. These two frontier places composed the Mission which we named for St. Joseph; the principal of these villages contained about 400 families, where the Faith had long sustained itself with luster, and where the Christians were increasing in number, and still more in holiness, through the indefatigable labors of Father Antoine Daniel, one of the earliest Missionaries in these regions.

Hardly had the Father ended Mass, and the Christians -- who, according to their custom, had filled the Church after the rising of the Sun -- were still continuing their devotions there, when the cry arose, "To arms! and repel the enemy!" -- who, having come unexpectedly, had made his approaches by night.

Some hurry to the combat, others to flight: there is only alarm and terror everywhere. The Father, among the first to rush where he sees the danger greatest, encourages his people to a brave defense; and he speaks to them in a tone so animated with the spirit which was possessing him that he gave them a Christian heart. The number of these proved to be so great that, unable to cope with it by baptizing them one after the other, he was compelled to dip his handkerchief in the water to shed abroad as quickly as possible this grace on those poor Indians, using the manner of baptizing which is called "by aspersion."

Meanwhile, the enemy continued his attacks more furiously than ever. When the Father saw that the Iroquois were becoming masters of the place, he, -- instead of taking flight with those who were inviting him to escape in their company, remembered some old men and sick people. He goes through the cabins, and proceeds to fill them with his fervor, the Infidels presenting their children in crowds, to make Christians of them. Meanwhile, the enemy, already victorious, had set everything on fire, and the blood of even the women and children irritated their fury. The Father, wishing to die in his Church, finds it full of Christians, and of Christian trainees who ask him for Baptism. He baptizes some, gives absolution to others, and consoles them all.

The enemy was warned that the Christians had gone, in great number, into the Church, and that it was the easiest prey that he could have hoped for; he hurries there, with barbarous howls and stunning yells. At the noise of these approaches, "Flee," said the Father to his new Christians, "and bear with you your faith even to the last sigh. As for me" (he added), "I must face death here, as long as I shall see here any soul to be gained for Heaven; my life is no longer anything to me; we shall see one another again in Heaven." At the same time, he goes out in the direction from where come the enemy, who stop in astonishment to see one man alone come to meet them, and even recoil backward, as if he bore upon his face the frightful appearance of a whole company. Finally, having come to their senses a little, and being astonished at themselves, they incite one another; they surround him on all sides, and cover him with arrows, until, having inflicted upon him a mortal wound from a musket shot, which pierced him through and through, in the middle of his breast, he fell.

It was then that those Barbarians rushed upon him with as much rage as if he alone had been the object of their hatred. They strip him naked, they exercise upon him a thousand indignities; and there was hardly anyone who did not try to assume the glory of having given him the final blow, even on seeing him dead.

The fire meanwhile was consuming the cabins; and when it had spread as far as the Church, the Father was cast into it, at the height of the flames.

While the enemy delayed around the Pastor of that Church, his poor scattered flock had more leisure to escape; and many went to a place of safety, indebted for their lives to the death of their father. The others could not escape promptly enough, especially some poor distressed mothers, who succumbed beneath the burden of three or four children; or who, having attempted to hide themselves in the depth of the forest, saw themselves discovered there through the innocent cries of an age which betrays itself, calling upon itself the misfortune which it most fears.

It was fourteen years during which this good Father had been working in this Mission of the Hurons. His fervor accompanied him even to death, which did not surprise him unexpectedly, although it was sudden. He is the first of our Jesuits who has died in this Mission of the Hurons.

A part of those who had escaped from the capture and burning of that Mission of Saint Joseph came to take refuge near our house of Saint Marie. The number of those who had there been killed or taken captive was probably about seven hundred people, mostly women and children; the number of those who escaped was greater.

STATE OF CHRISTIANITY IN THESE COUNTRIES, IN THE WINTER OF THE SAME YEAR, 1648.

THE victorious return of the Huron fleet, which had gone down to Three Rivers in the Spring, and the aid received, four of our Fathers, and 20 Frenchmen, who fortunately arrived here at the beginning of September, made us capable of bearing to a greater distance the word of God, our number being increased above the eighteen of our Fathers who were here, fifteen were distributed among eleven various Missions. I felt myself obliged to send most of them without any company, having given the four newly-arrived Fathers to serve as assistants in the most arduous Missions, where, while rendering some assistance, they could at the same time learn the language of the country.

Of these eleven Missions, eight have been for the people of the Huron tongue, and the three others for the Missions of the Algonquin language. Everywhere, the progress of the Faith has surpassed our hopes.

The number of those who have received baptism within a year is about eighteen hundred persons, without including a multitude of people who were baptized by Father Antoine Daniel on the day of the capture of Saint Joseph. Of these, we have been little able to keep account, as of those whom Father Jean de Brebeuf and Father Gabriel Lalemant baptized at the capture of the villages in the Mission of saint Ignace.

We do not yet know the success of a new Mission which we began last Autumn in an Algonquin Nation, about 150 miles away from us. one of our Fathers was sent there to winter with those Peoples, who had been urging us for several years to go and instruct them.

We have not been able to receive any news of him during the eight months since he left us. He must have had much to suffer there: but what consoles us is, our certain knowledge that everywhere sufferings have been the price due for the conversion of the Nations conquered for the Kingdom of Jesus Christ. These peoples inhabit an Island which has a circumference of about 150 miles, in our great Lake or freshwater Sea (Lake Huron), as we go toward the West. This Island is named Ekaentoton, which has given the name to the peoples who inhabit it; we have named it the Island of Saint Marie.

The Mission of la Conception, being older than all the others, has become fashioned in the true spirit of Christianity. Toward the end of the Winter, some of the more stubborn Infidels having wished, for the cure of a sick man, to rely on certain remedies, in which indecency is in its kingdom, the girls deeming it an honor, on these occasions, to prostitute their honor itself, not one of these Christians could be found who would listen to it.

THE CAPTURE OF THE VILLAGES OF THE MISSION OF ST. IGNACE, MARCH 1649.

The 16th day of March in the present year, 1649, marked the beginning of our misfortunes. The Iroquois, enemies of the Hurons, to the number of about a thousand men, well furnished with weapons, and mostly with firearms, which they obtain from the Dutch, their allies, arrived by night at the frontier of this country, without our having had any knowledge of their approach; although they had started from their country in the Autumn, hunting in the forests throughout the Winter, and had made over the snow nearly 500 miles of a difficult road, to come and surprise us. They reconnoitered by night the condition of the first place upon which they had plans, which was Surrounded with a stockade of pine trees, from fifteen to sixteen feet in height, and with a deep ditch, with which nature had strongly fortified this place on three sides, there remaining only a little space which was weaker than the others.

It was at that point that the enemy made a breach at daybreak, but so secretly and promptly that he was master of the place before people had put themselves on the defensive, all being then in a deep sleep, and not having leisure to reconnoiter their location. Thus this village was taken, almost without striking a blow, there having been only ten Iroquois killed. Part of the Hurons -- men, women, and children -- were massacred then and there; the others were made captives, and reserved for cruelties more terrible than death.

Three men alone escaped, almost naked, across the snows; they bore the alarm and terror to another and neighboring village, about 2 miles away. This first village was the one which we called Saint Ignace, which had been abandoned by most of its people at the beginning of the Winter, the most apprehensive and most clear-sighted having withdrawn from it, foreboding the danger; therefore the loss of it was not so considerable, and amounted only to about four hundred souls.

The enemy does not stop there; he follows up his victory, and before Sunrise he appears in arms to attack the village of Saint Louis, which was fortified with a fairly good stockade. Most of the women, and the children, had just gone from it, upon hearing the news which had arrived regarding the approach of the Iroquois. The people of most courage, about eighty persons, deciding to defend themselves well, repulsed with courage the first and the second assault, having killed among the enemy some thirty of their most venturesome men, besides many wounded. But, finally, number has the advantage, the Iroquois having undermined with blows of their hatchets the palisade of stakes, and having made a passage for themselves through considerable breaches.

Toward nine o'clock in the morning, we perceived from our house at Saint Marie the fire which was consuming the cabins of that village, where the enemy, having entered victoriously, had reduced everything to desolation, casting into the midst of the flames the old men, the sick, the children who had not been able to escape, and all those who, being too severely wounded, could not have followed them into captivity. At the sight of those flames, and by the color of the smoke which issued from them, we understood sufficiently what was happening, this village of Saint Louis not being farther from us than 2 miles.

In this village of Saint Louis were two of our Fathers, Father Jean de Brebeuf and Father Gabriel Lallement, who had charge of five closely neighboring villages; these formed but one of the eleven Missions of which we have spoken above; we named it the Mission of St. Ignace.

Some Christians had asked the Fathers to preserve their lives for the glory of God, which would have been as easy for them as for the more than 500 persons who went away at the first alarm, and had abundant leisure to reach a place of security; but their fervor could not permit them, and the salvation of their flock was dearer to them than love for their own lives. They employed all the moments of that time, as the most precious which they had ever had in the world; and during the heat of the combat, their hearts were only fire for the salvation of souls. One was at the breach, baptizing the Christian trainees; the other, giving absolution to the Neophytes, both animating the Christians to die in the sentiments of piety, with which they consoled them in their miseries. Accordingly, never was their faith, or the love which they had for their good Fathers and Pastors, more lively.

An Infidel, seeing affairs in a desperate condition, spoke of taking to flight; a Christian, named Estienne Annaotaha, the most esteemed in the country for his courage and his exploits over the enemy, would never allow it. "What!" he said, "could we ever abandon these two good Fathers, who for us have exposed their lives? The love which they have had for our salvation will be the cause of their death; there is no longer time for them to flee across the snows. Let us then die with them, and we shall go together to Heaven."

All this band of Christians fell, mostly alive, into the hands of the enemy; and with them, our two Fathers, the Pastors of that Church. They were not killed on the spot. The Iroquois, having dealt their blow and wholly reduced to fire the village of Saint Louis, retraced their steps to that of Saint Ignace, where they had left a good garrison, so it could be for them a sure retreat in case of misfortune, and that the victuals which they had found there might serve them as refreshments and provisions for their return.

On the evening of the same day, they sent scouts to reconnoiter the condition of our house at Saint Marie; their report having been made in the Council of war, the decision was adopted to come and attack us the next morning, promising themselves a victory which would be more glorious to them than all the successes of their arms in the past. We were in a good state of defense, and saw not one of our Frenchmen who was not resolved to sell his life dear, and to die in a cause which -- being for the interests of the Faith, and the maintenance of Christianity in these countries -- was more the cause of God than ours.

Meanwhile, a part of the Hurons, who are called Attignawantan (that is to say, the nation of those who wear a Bear on their coat of arms), having armed in haste, were at hand the next morning, the seventeenth of March, about three hundred warriors, who, while awaiting a more powerful help, secreted themselves in the ways of approach, intending to surprise some portion of the enemy.

About two hundred Iroquois having detached themselves from their main body, to get the start and proceed to the attack of our house, encountered some advance-guards of that Huron troop. The Huron guards immediately took flight after some skirmishing, and were eagerly pursued until within sight of our fort, -- many having been killed while they were in disorder in the midst of the snows. But the more courageous of the Hurons, having stood firm against those who joined combat with them, had some advantage on their side, and compelled the Iroquois to take refuge within the palisades of the village of Saint Louis, which had not been burned, but only the cabins. These Iroquois were forced into that palisade, and about thirty of them were taken captive.

The main body of the enemy, having heard of the defeat of their men, came to attack our people in the midst of their victory. Our men were the choicest Christians of the village of la Conception, and some others of the village of la Magdelaine. Their courage was not depressed, although they were only about one hundred and fifty. They proceed to prayers, and sustain the assault of a place which, having been so recently captured and recaptured, was no longer adequate for defense. The shock was furious on both sides, our people having made many sallies, despite their small number, and having often compelled the enemy to give way. But, the combat having continued quite far into the night, as not more than 20 Christians, mostly wounded, were left, the victory remained wholly in the hands of the Infidels. It had, however, cost them dear, as their Chief had been seriously wounded, and they had lost nearly a hundred men on the spot, of their best and most courageous.

All night our French were in arms, waiting to see at our gates this victorious enemy. The whole day passed in a profound silence on both sides, the country being in terror and in the expectation of some new misfortune.

On the nineteenth, a sudden panic fell upon the hostile camp, some withdrawing in disorder, and others thinking only of flight. Their Captains yielded to the terror which had seized them; they caused their retreat, driving forth hurriedly a part of their captives, who were burdened above their strength, like packhorses, with the spoils which the victorious were carrying off, their captors reserving for some other occasion the matter of their death.

As for the other captives who were left to them, destined to die on the spot, they attached them to stakes fastened in the earth, which they had arranged in various cabins. To these, on leaving the village, they set fire on all sides, taking pleasure, at their departure, in feasting upon the frightful cries which these poor victims uttered in the midst of those flames, where children were broiling beside their mothers; where a husband saw his wife roasting near him; where cruelty itself would have had compassion at a spectacle which had nothing human about it.

An old woman, escaped from the midst of that fire, bore the news of it to the village of Saint Michel, where there were about seven hundred men in arms, who charged upon the enemy; but, not having been able to overtake him after two days' march, partly due to the lack of provisions, partly the dread of fighting without advantage an enemy encouraged by his victories, and one who had mostly firearms, of which our Hurons have few, all these things compelled them to retrace their steps, without having done anything. They found upon the roads, from time to time, various captives, who -- not having strength enough to follow the conqueror, who was precipitating his retreat -- had had their heads split by a blow of the hatchet; others remained, half burned, at a post.

THE BLESSED DEATHS OF FATHER JEAN DE BREBEUF, AND FATHER GABRIEL LALLEMENT.

As early as the next morning, when we had assurance of the departure of the enemy, having had, before that, certain news, through some escaped captives, of the deaths of Father Jean de Brebeuf and of Father Gabriel Lallement, we sent one of our Fathers and seven other Frenchmen to seek their bodies at the place of their torture. They found there a spectacle of horror, the remains of cruelty itself.

I would gladly call them martyrs, not only because voluntarily they exposed themselves to death, for they could easily have put their lives in safety, if they had not been filled with love for God rather than for themselves. But much rather would I call them martyrs, because hatred for the Faith has influenced the mind of the Indians to practice upon them as many cruelties as ever the rage of tyrants obliged the Martyrs to endure.

As soon as they were taken captive, they were stripped naked, and some of their nails were torn out; and the welcome which they received upon entering the village of St. Ignace was a hailstorm of blows with sticks upon their shoulders, their loins, their legs, their breasts, their bellies, and their faces, there being no part of their bodies which did not then endure its torment.

Father Jean de Brebeuf, overwhelmed under the burden of these blows, did not lose care for his flock; seeing himself surrounded with Christians whom he had instructed, and who were in captivity with him, he said to them: "My children, let us lift our eyes to Heaven at the height of our afflictions; let us remember that God is the witness of our sufferings, and will soon be our exceeding great reward."

Some Huron Infidels -- former captives of the Iroquois, naturalized among them, and former enemies of the Faith -- were irritated by these words, and because our Fathers in their captivity had not their tongues captive. They cut off the hands of one, and pierce the other with sharp awls and iron points; they apply under their armpits and upon their loins hatchets heated red in the fire, and put a necklace of these about their necks in such a way that all the motions of their bodies gave them a new torture. For, if they attempted to lean forward, the red-hot hatchets which hung behind them burned the shoulders everywhere; and if they thought to avoid that pain, bending back a little, their stomachs and breasts experienced a similar torment; if they stood upright, without leaning to one side or the other, these glowing hatchets, touching them alike on all sides, were a double torture to them. They put about them belts of bark, filled with pitch and resin, to which they set fire, which scorched the whole of their bodies.

At the height of these torments, Father Gabriel Lallement lifted his eyes to Heaven, clasping his hands from time to time, and uttering sighs to God, whom he invoked to his aid. Father Jean de Brebeuf suffered like a rock, insensible to the fires and the flames, without uttering any cry, and keeping a profound silence, which astonished his executioners. Then, returning to himself, he preached to those Infidels, and still more to many good Christian captives, who had compassion on him.

Those butchers, indignant at his fervor, to hinder him from further speaking of God, girdled his mouth, cut off his nose, and tore off his lips; but his blood spoke much more loudly than his lips had done.

In derision of baptism, which these good Fathers had so charitably administered even at the breach, and in the hottest of the fight, those wretches thought to baptize them with boiling water. Their bodies were entirely bathed with it, two or three times, and more, with biting taunts, which accompanied these torments. "We baptize you," said these wretches, "to the end that you may be blessed in Heaven; for without proper Baptism one cannot be saved." Others added, mocking, "we treat you as a friend, since we shall be the cause of your greatest happiness up in Heaven; thank us for so many good deeds, for the more you suffer, the more your God will reward you." These were Infidel Hurons, former captives of the Iroquois, and enemies of the Faith, who having previously had sufficient instruction for their salvation, impiously abused it.

When they were fastened to the post where they suffered these torments, they knelt down, they embraced it, and kissed it piously. They were there some time in prayers, and longer than those butchers were willing to permit them. They put out Father Gabriel Lallement's eyes and applied burning coals in the hollows of the same.

Their tortures were not of the same duration. Father Jean de Brebeuf was at the height of his torments at about three o'clock on the same day of the capture, the 16th day of March, and rendered up his soul about four o'clock in the evening. Father Gabriel Lallement endured longer, from six o'clock in the evening until about nine o'clock the next morning, the seventeenth of March.

Before their death, both their hearts were torn out, by means of an opening above the breast; and those Barbarians inhumanly feasted on them, drinking their blood quite warm, which they drew from its source with sacrilegious hands. While still quite full of life, pieces of flesh were removed from their thighs, from the calves of the legs, and from their arms, which those executioners placed on coals to roast, and ate in their sight.

They had slashed their bodies in various parts; and to increase the feeling of pain, they had thrust into these wounds red-hot hatchets. Father Jean de Brebeuf had had the skin which covered his skull torn away; they had cut off his feet and torn the flesh from his thighs, even to the bone, and had split, with the blow of a hatchet, one of his jaws in two.

Father Gabriel Lallement had received a hatchet-blow on the left ear, which they had driven into his brain, which appeared exposed; we saw no part of his body, from the feet even to the head, which had not been broiled, and in which he had not been burned alive, even the eyes, into which those impious ones had thrust burning coals.

They had broiled their tongues, repeatedly putting into their mouths flaming brands, and burning pieces of bark, not willing that they should invoke, in dying, him for whom they were suffering. I have learned all this from persons worthy of credence, who have seen it, and reported it to me personally, and who were then captives with them, but who, having been reserved to be put to death at another time, found means to escape.

We buried these precious relics on Sunday, the 21st day of March.

Father Gabriel Lallement was the last to come to the combat, and yet has fortunately borne away one of the first crowns. Although it is only six months since he arrived in this Mission of the Hurons, and that, last of all, he has been one of the first victims sacrificed to the hatred for the Christian Faith. He was born at Paris, on the 31st of October, 1610. He entered our Jesuits on the 24th of March, 1630; he died in it, on the 17th of March, 1649. The Hurons named him Atironta.

SOME REMARKS ON THE LIFE OF FATHER JEAN DE BREBEUF

FATHER Jean de Brebeuf was the first Apostle of the Hurons, the first of our Jesuits who set foot there, and who labored there so successfully that before his death he saw nearly seven thousand baptized there.

He was sent to New France in 1625, by the Reverend Father Pierre Coton; and for his first attempt, his first apprenticeship, he spent the winter roving in the woods, with the Innu tribes nearest Quebec, in which life he had much to suffer, until the Summer of the following year, 1626, He then came up here to the Hurons, devouring the difficulties of these barbarous languages with a success so felicitous that he seemed to have been born only for these countries. He adapted his own nature and temperament to the customs among these peoples, with so much ability, becoming all things to all men, to win them to Jesus Christ, and was singularly loved there, when he was compelled to return to France, in 1629, the English having made themselves masters of this country, and not being willing to allow in it the Preachers of the Faith.

The Englishman having been compelled to let go his hold, and to withdraw from a country which he occupied unjustly, the same Father was sent back to it in 1633, when he found himself obliged to winter again at Quebec, being unable to go up to the Hurons before the following year, though he was already master of the language, and was filled with the hopes that he had for the conversion of these tribes.

Often the Infidels conspired for his death. If any misfortune had befallen the country, it was the Jesuits who were the cause of it, and Echon the chief of all. If contagious diseases depopulated certain villages, it was he who by his spells caused those Demons of hell to come, with whom he was accused of having dealings. Famine appeared here only by his orders; and if the war were not favorable to them, it was Echon who had a secret understanding with their enemies; who secretly received pensions from them, for betraying the country; and who had come from France only to exterminate all the tribes with whom he should deal, under the pretext of coming to announce the Faith there, and of procuring their welfare. The name of Echon has been, for the space of some years, held in such abhorrence that it was used for terrifying the children; and often sick people have been made to believe that his look was the Demon who had bewitched them and who gave the death-blow. But his hour was not come; all those evil plans which they had against him served only to augment his confidence in God.

In 1640, being in the Neutral Nation, he said to the Father who was with him that death, like a fleshless skeleton, had appeared to him, threatening him. Not knowing what that signified, he was astonished when, the next morning, one of our good friends, Captain of the village where they were, came to bring the news to our Fathers that an Infidel Huron, named Aoenhokoui, recently arrived in the Neutral Nation, and a deputy from the elders of the country, having convened the Council, had made a present there of nine hatchets (these are great riches in this country), in order that they should strike our Fathers dead, and that the consequences of this murder might not fall upon the Hurons. This affair had occupied the Council all night; but finally the Captains of the Neutral Nation would not listen to it.

"His death has crowned his life, and perseverance has been the seal of his holiness. He died at the age of 56 years. He was born on the 25th of March in 1593, the day of the Annunciation of Our Lady, of worthy parents, in the Diocese o Bayeux; he entered our Jesuits in 1617, on the fifth day of October. He died while preaching, and exercising truly Apostolic offices, and by a death which the first Apostle to the Hurons deserved. His martyrdom took place on the 16th day of March in the current year, 1649.

PRESENT STATE OF CHRISTIANITY, AND MEANS OF HELPING THESE PEOPLES.

Because of the losses incurred, a part of the country of the Hurons is seen to be in desolation; fifteen villages have been abandoned, the people of each scattering where they could, in the woods and forests, on the lakes and rivers, and among the Islands most unknown to the enemy. Others have taken refuge in the neighboring Nations, more capable of sustaining the stress of war. In less than fifteen days, our House of Saint Marie has seen itself stripped bare on every side, and the only one which remained standing in these places of terror, most exposed to the incursions of the enemy, those who had left their former dwellings having set fire to these themselves, fearing in case they should serve as retreat and fortresses to the Iroquois.

What increases the public misery is that, famine being prevalent this year in all these regions, more than it had been seen in fifty years, most of the people were compelled either to eat acorns, or else to seek in the woods some wild roots. With these they sustain a wretched life, still too happy not to have fallen into the hands of an enemy a thousand times more cruel than the wild beasts, and all the famines in the world. Fishing supports some of them.

We have tried to assist, out of our own poverty, a part of these poor Christians; and since those public miseries, which began not a year ago, we have received in the hospice of this House of Saint Marie more than six thousand, by actual count; and every day the number increases, as well as their miseries.

It is difficult for the Faith to remain alive in these countries, unless we have a place which may be the center of all our Missions; from where we can send the preachers into the Nations who are spread abroad in all these regions; and where we can assemble from time to time. This house of Saint Marie, where we have been until now, was at the most advantageous location that we could have chosen for this purpose. But, affairs being in the condition in which we see them now, it would be rashness to dwell in an abandoned place, from where the Hurons had retired, and where the Algonquins were unable to have further trade; not one would come to see us there, except the Enemies, who would discharge upon us alone the whole weight of their hostility. Consequently, we are resolved to follow our flock, and to flee with the fleeing.

But the Huron villages, which have become scattered, have taken various routes in their flight, some having fled to the mountains where dwell those whom we call the Petun nation, where three of our Fathers were cultivating, this last winter, three separate Missions; others having taken their stand on an Island which we name St. Joseph Island, where we began, nearly a year ago, a new Mission; others, finally, having the intention of going into the more distant Islands of our great Lake or freshwater Sea (Lake Huron). We will follow the latter, and we will try to establish our principal dwelling, and the center of our Missions, in an Island which we call Saint Marie Island, which the Hurons call Ekaentoton. It is this Island of which I spoke in the second Chapter, in which I said that we began last Autumn a new Mission, among the Algonquin peoples which inhabit it, and which is about 150 miles away from us.

This Island seems a more suitable abode for our purpose, because in that place we shall be better able to occupy ourselves with the conversion of the Hurons and of the Algonquins; for we shall approach the Eskiaeronnon, Aoechisaeronon, and Aoeatsioaenronnon Algonquins and countless other allied peoples, continually proceeding Westward, and removing ourselves from the Iroquois our Enemies. From that same place, we shall be able also to send, by canoe, to the Petun nation and the Peoples of the Neutral Nation, some of our Fathers, who will take charge of the Missions there. Besides, in that Island of Saint Marie we shall always be able to maintain and preserve the trade of the Algonquins and Hurons with our French at Three Rivers and at Quebec, which is necessary for the maintenance of the Faith in all these regions, for the good of the French colonists, and for the support of New France. But we must await that time with patience and courage; for I believe that our Hurons will have difficulty for several years in making this voyage, being troubled with famine and obliged to flee the scourge of war. When they shall have had leisure to come to themselves, then they will be able again to find the way to Quebec, not only by the great River of Saint Lawrence, -- which perhaps will always be too much infested with the Iroquois Enemies, but by sequestered routes, over which they can make this voyage with more security.

That Island of Saint Marie abounds in fish; and the lands there, according to the report made to us about them, are good for cultivation. We will gladly put our hands to the plow, to live there by the sweat of our brows and by our own labor, if provisions fail us otherwise, for until now it was the Huron villages which furnished us their Indian corn, which has been the bulk and almost the total of our food.

Since the above writing, most of the Huron villages which had become scattered have wanted to reunite in the Island of St. Joseph; and twelve of the most considerable Captains have come to ask us that we should have pity on their misery. They said that, without us, they saw themselves the prey of the enemy; that, with us, they esteemed themselves too strong not to defend themselves with courage; that we must have compassion on their widows, and on the poor Christian children; that those who remained Infidels were all resolved to embrace our Faith; and that we would make that Island an Island of Christians.

After having spoken more than three whole hours, with an eloquence as powerful to bend us as the art of Orators could furnish in the midst of France, they made a display of ten large collars of wampum (the pearls and diamonds of these countries); they told us that that was the voice of their women and children, who made us a present of the little which was left to them in their misery. They added that we knew well enough in what esteem they held these necklaces, which are their ornaments and all their beauty; but that they wished us to know that the Faith would be more precious to them than were their goods; and that our instructions would be held dearer by them than all the riches which the earth could furnish them. They said that they made these presents to revive in our persons the fervor and the name of Father Echon (the name which the Hurons have always given to Father Jean de Brebeuf); that he had been the first Apostle to the country; that he had died to assist them even to his last sigh; that they hoped that his example would touch us, and that our hearts could not refuse to die with them, since they wished to live as Christians.

Their eloquence conquered us. We could not doubt that God had chosen to speak to us by their lips; and although, at their coming, we all had entertained another plan, we all found ourselves changed before their departure, and with a common consent we believed that it was necessary to follow God in the direction where he chose to call us, whatever peril there might be in it for our lives, and in whatever depth of darkness we may continue, for the remaining future, which is not in our power.

Our plan is, therefore, to transfer the entire body of our forces, and this house of Saint Marie, to the Island of St. Joseph, which will be at once the center of our missions, and the bulwark of these countries.

It will not be inappropriate to add the letter which the Father who had charge of that Mission writes to the Reverend Father Hierome Lalemant, Superior at Quebec, since it gives us a more ample knowledge of the state of that Mission.

"Reverend Father,

After the death of little Jacques Douart, who was assassinated last year, I offered to God, as a burnt-offering, the dearest thing I had in this world. I did this in the thought that there was nothing, however precious it might be, the annihilation of which we should not delight in, provided that some glory accrued to God.

All my poor Christians of la Conception, except 3 or 4, have been killed or taken captive by the Iroquois; and the house of Saint Marie has been destroyed, although more quietly than I had persuaded myself it would be, long before, in my meditations.

I have been for a month at Ahwendoe, on the Island of St. Joseph, where most of our poor Hurons have taken refuge; it is here that I see a part of the miseries which war and famine have caused to this poor desolate people. Their usual food is now nothing but acorns, or a certain bitter root which they name otsa, and yet, fortunate is he who can have any of these. Those who have none, live partly on garlic baked under the ashes, or cooked in water, without other sauce; and partly on smoked fish, with which they season the clear water which they drink, as they formerly did their sagamite. There are found still poorer ones than all that, who have neither corn, nor acorns, nor garlic, nor fish, and are poor sick people who cannot seek their food. Add to this poverty that they must work to clear new forests make cabins, and build palisades, to secure themselves in the coming year from famine and war; indeed, seeing them, you might conclude that these are poor corpses unearthed.

I wish that I could represent, to all the persons having affection for our Hurons, the pitiful state to which they are reduced. How would it be possible that these Christians should not be moved to pity at the sight of the hundreds of widows, whose children not only, but almost all their relatives, have been either outrageously killed, or taken captive, and then inhumanly burned, cooked, torn, and devoured by the enemy?

Those who touch me still more are the poor widows and orphans of la Conception, which was the Village commonly named by the Hurons "the Believing Village," -- and that with reason, for there were few infidels left. Last winter, there had not been any public sin committed there, the Christians being the strongest, so that they could hinder the Infidels who might have wished to commit such. Among others, there was a desire for a Doutetha Dance, to which the Musician, who had come from another Village, wished to annex a feast of Endakwandet. Having heard of this, the Christians opposed it so vigorously that there was not one Captain who was willing to make the proclamation of it; the Musician was therefore compelled to depart, and to return abashed to his own Village.

This was the last act that our Christians accomplished in profession of their Faith; for three days later, the Iroquois killed them, having taken away only six of them as prisoners, all the rest having bravely fought, even to death, for the defense of their native country. I have been told that Charles Ondaaiondiont, seeing that the enemy was overwhelming by force of numbers, knelt to pray; and that, a little later, he was killed by a musket shot. Acowendoutie, of Arente, baptized there, was found, after his death, with his hands clasped; he was one of the Hurons who recovered the body of Father de Noue, with his hands clasped, and he desired to imitate him.

J. M. Chaumonot,

of the Jesuits.

From the Island of St. Joseph, this 1st of June, 1649."

A FATHER OF THE JESUITS, WRITING FROM THE COUNTRY OF THE HURONS. 1649.

"WHEN the inhabitants of the Huron Villages were scattered in different directions, the great mass of these peoples sought refuge with the Petun nation, from where I fear the dread of the enemy may drive them. Others intend planting a Colony at Quebec, where a Captain made his way through a thousand dangers, expressly to see whether the French would approve their plan and be able to render them some assistance. Our Fathers who are there would receive its members with open arms, and aid them to the best of their slender ability.

Three hundred families, nearly all Christian, took refuge on St. Joseph Island. Being requested to join them, we set fire to our house at Saint Marie, in case the enemy might take possession of it. This was a magnificent building, in the eyes of the Indians. We left it on May fifteenth of the present year, 1649; we were forced to destroy it at the time it might have sheltered the poor old people and all who were sick or exhausted, or shattered by labors capable of prostrating Giants. We also abandoned the lands and fields on which our sustenance largely depended; and here we are in a forest, more destitute of aid than when we first came to this country.

During the two months since we came to this Island, God has rendered us such effectual aid that we believe ourselves to be in a complete state of defense, so that the enemy, despite all he can do, is little dreaded by us in our entrenchments; but he holds sway on all the Mainland near our Island, and consequently reduces us to a state of famine more terrible than war. The Hurons whom we followed left their lands, just as we did; and they are forced to fortify themselves, and both they and we have to build houses, -- or, rather, cabins, all at the same time; while, if we wish to harvest any grain next year, we must clear away forests to have fields and open lands. These labors, hindered by the fear of the enemy, are arduous.

That is not all. As these poor People have neither hunting, nor fishing, nor grain, they scatter in quest of acorns and roots. Our Fathers, unable to abandon them, accompany them when they constitute any considerable body, -- preferring to perish with hunger rather than deny them the bread of the Gospel. In this service, acorns and exceedingly bitter roots seem to them a dish more delicious than the daintiest morsels of Europe.

Many times have the Indians reproached us with the assertion that the faith was the cause of their calamities. That groundless belief has caused us much suffering, and it aroused many of these Indians to hostilities against the Fathers who were recently murdered. But from the death of Father Antoine Daniel, which occurred July fourth of last year, 1648, up to that of Father Jean de Brebeuf and of Father Gabriel Lallemant, who were burned and eaten on the 16th and 17th of March in the present year, 1649, we baptized more than thirteen hundred persons; and from the latter murders up to August, we baptized more than fourteen hundred. Thus the Christian Church was increased by more than two thousand seven hundred people in thirteen months, without counting those baptized at the Breach [i.e., the storming of the Huron villages], and those who were made Christians in other places.

I add a remarkable incident, or rather, a miracle wrought on the crew of a Vessel Which set sail this last Spring for New France. While this vessel was sailing on the open sea, at no great distance from the great bank, where the cod-fishery is carried on, the mainmast broke its step, or came out of it, and pierced the Ship's bottom, so that a flood of water rushed in. The crew, composed of about thirty-seven persons, strove to stop this flow, some working the pump, others dipping water with buckets, while still others threw overboard the cannon and the Ship's cargo; but with all their efforts they could not overcome that torrent of water, and it soon sank the Vessel. As they were intending to fish, they had lowered three sailboats, into which they leaped without being able to take any provisions with them, only a little brandy being saved, as we were told.

See them with no biscuit or fresh water, in three small boats floating at the mercy of the winds, and of the waves which had just swallowed up their Ship. They saw nothing but Sky and sea, being more than 250 miles from the nearest land. One of these three sailboats became separated from the two others in the night, or in some storm, and we do not yet know what became of it. Thirteen days they pursued their way over those watery depths, traveling about 850 miles, eating nothing, and drinking nothing but a mere drop of brandy, often contenting themselves with wetting a stick in that liquor, and sucking it twice a day as their sole nourishment. When they felt their strength ebbing away, they talked of drawing lots to see which of them should serve the others for food. One of the number, who was rather stout and fleshy, said to them: "Do not rely on chance; I see no one in the company better able to feed you than myself."

At this juncture, a sea-turtle appeared near their sailboats. They seized it, dragged it in, and sucked its blood, which sustained them for some little time. When the strength derived from this cold nutriment had passed away, they again talked of drawing lots to decide who should be eaten by the others. All agreed to this. Finally, the lot fell to that good, stout youngster who had already offered himself. "There," said he to them, "did not I tell you that it was God's will that you should eat me?" There was the victim, ready; but as the French are not Indians, their abhorrence of eating human flesh, and raw at that (for they had neither wood nor fireplace), made one of them climb to the masthead, to take as wide a view as possible of the sea. By good luck, he saw a Vessel, and cried out, "A Ship, a Ship! I see a Ship!" At that word, all began to breathe new life; and they made straight for that Vessel, whose crew were surprised at seeing so many men.

The Frenchmen fell on their knees, and prayed that their lives might be saved. The others were Englishmen, who at first objected to receiving them, saying they had not enough food for so many. The French implored them, with clasped hands, only to give them daily a piece of biscuit as large as one's thumb, to keep them from dying. Some English women on board this Vessel threw themselves at their husbands' feet, and implored them to take pity on those poor shipwrecked men, offering even to fast a part of the time, for their sake. The men, moved by these good women's tenderness, received the suppliants; and they gave to each, as a first dish, a glass of fresh water, and then a little pap. The next day they gave them a little more, to enlarge their stomachs by degrees, contracted as they were by so long a fast. They saved their lives, and then took the men to the Island of Madeira, where they landed them.

These good people were treated rather ill, according to their account, until they met with a Father of our Jesuits and told him about their disaster; then the residents on that Island, seeing that our Fathers lent them aid, readily gave them everything they needed. This shipwreck caused serious loss to our Fathers in New France, and to many of its inhabitants; but the men were saved.

YEAR 1650
LETTER OF FATHER PAUL RAGUENEAU TO THE REVEREND FATHER GENERAL, VINCENT CARAFFA. 1650

Reverend Father,

Last year, we received no letters from Europe; not even from Quebec did any reply come to those letters which I wrote, fully describing the condition of our affairs.

You have learned from my last letter of the precious death, or rather martyrdom, of our Fathers, Father Antoine Daniel, Father Jean de Brebeuf, and Father Gabriel Lallement, whom the savage Iroquois cruelly snatched from this growing Church, slaying each of these pastors with his Christian flock, as he watched over his own.

Toward the close of this same past year, 1649, two other Fathers suffered a like death, at their posts, Father Charles Garnier, an apostolic man, who certainly was born for the salvation of those peoples; and his companion, Father Noel Chabanel, who had come to us from the Province of Toulouse. One of these was murdered by the hand of an enemy, on the seventh day of December, in the middle of the village, which the victorious Iroquois had raided and laid waste with fire and arms. The other was slain only the next day, a day sacred to the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin. It is uncertain by whose hand he fell, whether that of an enemy, or, more probably, that of a treacherous apostate, who may have murdered the Father as he wandered through the trackless forest, so he could rob the priest, poor as he was, of even his clothes, shoes, and torn hat.

Our Hurons are distressed not only by war, but by a deadly famine and a contagious plague; all are miserably perishing together. Everywhere, corpses have been dug out of the graves; and now carried away by hunger, the people have repeatedly offered, as food, those who were lately the dear pledges of love, not only brothers to brothers, but even children to their mothers, and the parents to their own children. This is inhuman; but it is just as unusual among our Indians than among the Europeans, who abhor eating flesh of their own kind.

Doubtless the teeth of the starving man make no distinction in food, and do not recognize in the dead body him who a little before was called, until he died, father, son, or brother. Even the dung of man or beast is not spared. Fortunate are they who can eat the food of swine, bitter acorns, and husks, innocent food, and with relish, to which hunger adds a sauce; to these, the scarcity of this year has given a value far higher than formerly was placed upon Indian corn.

We count more than three thousand Indians baptized this last year. At present, there remain in this mission thirteen Fathers, four assistant-bishops, twenty-two French laymen, eleven other servants (to whom alone are paid modest wages), six soldiers, and four boys, sixty people in all.

There are two sources of possible destruction to this mission, which we dread; first, the hostile Iroquois; second, the failure of provisions; and it is not clear how these dangers may be encountered. Our Hurons, last year, were forced not only to leave their homes and their fortified villages, but even to abandon their fields, because they were harassed by warfare, and crushed by unceasing disaster. We, the Shepherds, followed our fleeing flock, and we too have left our dwelling-place, I might call it our delight, the residence of Saint Marie, and the fields we had tilled, which promised a rich harvest. We even applied the torch to the work of our own hands, in case the sacred House should furnish shelter to our impious enemy: and therefore in a single day, and almost in a moment, we saw consumed our work of nearly ten years, which had given us the hope that we could produce the necessities of life, and therefore maintain ourselves in this country without aid from France. But God has willed otherwise; our home is now laid waste, and our Penates abandoned; we have been compelled to journey elsewhere, and to seek a new place of banishment.

Within sight of the mainland, about twenty miles from that first site of Saint Marie, is an Island surrounded by a vast lake (which might better be called a sea). There the fugitive Hurons stopped their flight, at least most of them; there also we must live; there, where lately were the dens of wild beasts, we had to build new homes; there the forest, never touched by the axe since the creation, had to be cleared away; there, finally, not only we, but the Indians, had to construct fortifications, a task pertaining to war. This was our occupation, this our unceasing effort, winter and summer alike, so we could at last render ourselves prepared to receive the common enemy. We surrounded our position, not merely with a wooden palisade, as until now had been the custom, but with a closely-built stone wall, as difficult to scale as it is easy of defense, which defies the enemy's torch, or a battering-ram, or any engine of war which the Iroquois can employ.

But a far more laborious task remains, in pulling out trees and preparing the ground for cultivation, so its yield of grain, roots, and vegetables may be sufficient to prevent famine -- for on such food we live here; we have no other beverage than cold water. We have almost no covering, save the skins of beasts, which nature furnishes without labor on our part. We saved ten fowls, a pair of swine, two bulls, and the same number of cows, enough doubtless to preserve their kind. We have one year's supply of Indian corn; the rest has been used for Christian charity.

Paul Ragueneau.

From the Residence of Saint Marie, in the Island of Saint Joseph, among the Hurons In New France, March 13, 1650.

THE MISSIONS OF THE HURONS, AND THE LOWER COUNTRIES OF NEW FRANCE, FROM THE SUMMER OF 1649, TO THE SUMMER OF 1650. SENT TO REV. FATHER CLAUDE DE LINGENDES, PROVINCIAL OF THE JESUITS IN THE PROVINCE OF FRANCE. BY THE REV. FATHER PAUL RAGUENEAU, SUPERIOR OF THE MISSIONS OF THE JESUITS IN NEW FRANCE.

Reverend Father,

It is no longer from the country of the Hurons that I send the Report of what has happened there. The poor infant Church -- which was seen, a year ago, bathed in its own blood, trodden down by the cruelty of the Iroquois, -- has since then undergone yet greater sufferings. The larger number of our good Neophytes, with some of their Pastors, have followed the steps of their predecessors, and now bear them company in Heaven. A terrible famine, prevalent everywhere, has wrought desolation.

We count over three thousand baptized during the last year; but the dead outnumber those who survive the ruin of their native Land. Reduced to extremity, we found ourselves at last compelled to relinquish a position that was no longer tenable, so we could save those who remained. It was on the tenth day of last June that we took our departure from this land of Promise. We have come down to Quebec, together with some Christian families of the poor Indians who have followed us in our retreat, and with whom we shall attempt, under cover of our French fort, to form a Huron Colony.

From Quebec, this first day of September, 1650.

Paul Ragueneau.

THE REMOVAL OF THE HOUSE OF SAINT MARIE TO THE ISLAND OF ST. JOSEPH.

Because of the bloody victories obtained by the Iroquois over our Hurons at the commencement of the Spring of last year, 1649, and of the more than inhuman acts of barbarity practiced toward their prisoners of war, and the cruel torments pitilessly inflicted on Father Jean de Brebeuf and Father Gabriel Lallemant, Pastors of this suffering Church, terror having fallen upon the neighboring villages, which were dreading a similar misfortune, all the inhabitants dispersed. These poor, distressed people forsook their lands, houses, and villages, and all that in the world was dearest to them, to escape the cruelty of an enemy whom they feared more than a thousand deaths, and more than all that remained before their eyes, calculated as that was to strike terror into hearts already wretched. Many, no longer expecting humanity from man, flung themselves into the deepest recesses of the forest, where, though it were with the wild beasts, they might find peace. Others took refuge upon some frightful rocks that lay in the midst of a great Lake nearly 1000 miles in circumference, choosing rather to find death in the waters, or from the cliffs, than by the fires of the Iroquois.

A good number cast in their lot with the people of the Neutral Nation, and with those living on the Mountain heights, whom we call the Petun nation. The most prominent of those who remained invited us to join them, rather than to flee so far away, trusting that God would support their cause when it should have become our own, and would be mindful of their protection. This was exactly what God was requiring of us, that we should flee with the fleeing, accompanying them everywhere, wherever their faith should follow them; and that we should lose sight of none of these Christians, although it might be beneficial to detain the bulk of our forces wherever the main body of fugitives might decide to settle down. This was the conclusion we came to.

We told certain of our Fathers to make some traveling Missions, some, in a small bark canoe, for voyaging along the coasts, and visiting the more distant islands of the great Lake, at 150, 200, and 250 miles from us; others to journey by land, making their way through forest-depths, and scaling the summits of mountains.

But on each of us lay the necessity of bidding farewell to that old home of Saint Marie -- to its structures, which, though plain, seemed, to the eyes of our poor Indians, master-works of art; and to its cultivated lands, which were promising us an abundant harvest. That spot must be abandoned, which I may call our second Fatherland, since it had been the cradle of this Christian church. Besides, for fear that our enemies should profane the sacred place, and derive from it an advantage, we set fire to it, and saw burn before our eyes, in less than one hour, our work of nine or ten years.

It was between five and six o'clock, on the evening of the fourteenth of June, that a part of our number embarked in a small vessel we had built. I, together with most of the others, trusted myself to some logs, fifty or sixty feet in length, which we had felled in the woods, and dragged into the water, binding all together, to fashion a sort of raft, just as, in former days, we had seen in France floating timbers transported down the streams. We voyaged all night upon our great Lake, by force of arms and oars; and the weather being favorable, we landed without mishap, after a few days upon an island, where the Hurons were awaiting us, and which was the spot we had fixed upon for a general reunion, so we could make of it a Christian island.

God, doubtless, led us on this journey; for even while we coasted along those deserted lands, the enemy was in the field, and on the following day delivered his blow upon some Christian families whom he surprised during their sleep, along the road which we had followed; some were massacred upon the spot, others led away captive.

The Hurons who were awaiting us on that Island, called the Island of Saint Joseph, had sown there their Indian corn; but the Summer droughts had been so excessive that they lost hope of their harvest, unless Heaven should afford them some favoring showers. On our arrival, they implored us to obtain this favor for them; and our prayers were granted that day, although previously there had been no appearance of rain.

These grand forests, which, since the Creation of the world, had not been felled by the hand of any man, received us as guests; while the ground furnished to us, without digging, the stone and cement we needed for fortifying ourselves against our enemies. In consequence, we found ourselves protected, having built a small fort according to military rules, which could be easily defended, and would fear neither the fire, the undermining, nor the scaling, of the Iroquois.

Besides, we set to work to fortify the village of the Hurons, which was adjacent to our abode. We built for them bastions, which defended its approaches, intending to put at their disposal the strength, the arms, and the courage of our Frenchmen. These would most willingly have hazarded their lives in a defense so reasonable and so Christian, the village being truly Christian, and the foundation of the Christian church that is dispersed throughout these regions.

THE MISSION OF SAINT JOSEPH.

THIS Island, to which we had transferred the house of Saint Marie, being called by the name of Saint Joseph, the Indians who had removed there constituted the Mission bearing the same name. The Huron village comprised over a hundred cabins, one of which might contain eight or ten families, making, say, sixty or eighty persons. Besides this village, in the Country were a few more distant cabins.

The famine here has been severe. The lands which had been sown would have returned with interest what we desired -- indeed, more than a hundredfold; but there was hardly one family in ten which had been able to apply itself to the labor needed to cultivate a field of Indian corn in a place which, when they came to it, was but a thick forest, unprepared in any way for tillage. The greater number of these poor people, exiles in their own country, had passed the whole Summer, a part also of the Autumn, living in the woods on roots and wild fruits; or taking from the Lakes or Rivers, a few small fish which aided rather in postponing for a little time their death, than in satisfying the needs of life. Winter having set in, covering the ground with three or four feet of snow, and freezing all the Lakes and Rivers, that entire multitude of people who had crowded near us found themselves in immediate need, and in the extremity of misery, not having been able to store any provisions.

Then it was that we were compelled to see dying skeletons eking out a miserable Life, feeding even on the excrements and refuse of nature. The acorn was to them what the choicest foods are in France. Even carrion dug up, the remains of Foxes and Dogs, excited no horror; and they even devoured one another, but this in secret; for although the Hurons, before the faith had given them light, would not have considered that they committed any sin in eating their enemies, any more than in killing them, yet they regard with no less horror the eating of their fellow-countrymen than would be felt in France at eating human flesh. But necessity had no longer law; and famished teeth ceased to discern the nature of that they ate. Mothers fed upon their children; brothers on their brothers; while children recognized no longer, in a corpse, him whom, while he lived, they had called their Father.

We attempted to relieve these miseries; but, although our donations exceeded, perhaps, what Prudence asked of us, still -- the calamity being so widespread, and it being impossible for us to assist all equally -- we were compelled to be witnesses to some of these horrifying spectacles. Those who were totally without means to guard against the famine were attacked by a contagious malady, which carried off a great number of them, especially of the children.

The War had already made its ravages, not only in the devastation which occurred in the preceding Winter, but in the number of massacres which happened all through the Summer, on the mainland in the vicinity of this Island; poverty compelled numbers of families to go there, to seek death as much as life, in the open country given over to the fury of the enemy. But all the days and nights of Winter were but nights of horror, passed in constant fear and expectation of a hostile group of Iroquois, of whom news had been received; these were to come to us to sweep this Island, and to exterminate, with us, the remnants of a nation drawing to its end. Their hearts had become so pliable to the faith that we accomplished more than we had ever been able to accomplish in 2 entire years. These poor people, dying of hunger, came to see us, and implored of us Baptism, consoling themselves with hopes of Paradise, which they saw as near to them as was death itself.

One mother was visited, who had but her two breasts, and these dry and without milk, which were the sole offering she had been able to make to three or four infants, who wept as they were pressed to her bosom. She saw them die in her arms, one after another, and had not even the strength to cast them into the grave.

Another mother, perceiving that she would be the first to die, left -- with the same peace as if she were falling into a sweet slumber -- upon her bosom two poor orphans, who continued to suck from her after her death, and who died upon their mother as quietly as formerly they had slept there, when they drew from her both milk and life.

These poor dying people blessed us, even while confronting their miseries; for there was not one of them who had not received from us more helpful charity than they had experienced from even their nearest relatives. For this reason, they looked on us only with eyes of love, as upon their Fathers; and, being made recipients of our charities during life, they were well assured that these would be extended to them even after death. For some of our Fathers, and of the Frenchmen who were with us, had assigned themselves with the care which no one else -- not even the nearest relatives of the dead -- would undertake, of laying out, and burying these poor people, abandoned by their fellow-men.

There were some of these poor Christians who; perceiving that a wretched death was near, sent for us in their miseries. "Ah!" they said to us, "I ask you, my brother, bury me now, for my life is over, and you see plainly that I am numbered among the dead. What I fear is this, that if I should die before being buried, other poor people may rob me of these rags that cover my nakedness, to put upon themselves. It will be a consolation to me, on going down to the grave, to know that my body will not suffer that humiliation, of which I have had a horror all my life." Scenes like these drew tears from our eyes. If not for us, this mortality would have been much greater; for many have remained alive only through the assistance which we rendered them.

All Winter, having employed the day, some of us in the care of souls, others in works of charity, the night afforded some respite to our labors, as much, at least, as was needed to prevent our succumbing to the fatigues of the day; but to say the truth, our sleep was but a half-sleep: whatever the cold, whatever the snow, whatever winds might blow, sentinels kept watch all night long, exposed to every severity of weather in the never-ending rounds which formed their duty; the others, who during this time were taking their allotment of repose, were the while under arms, as if awaiting battle.

The heaviest part of our work lay in visiting the cabins for the purpose of consoling the distressed, assisting the poor, aiding the sick, and preparing for death those who were nearest to it. Our Fathers, in making these visits, considered the poverty of each person; and to aid the most pressing necessities, they made use of a kind of coin which they went about distributing among these poor people; it was a little piece of copper, stamped for this purpose. All who had received it as a donation stood at our door, about Midday, and presented their small coin. To some was given a certain quantity of acorns, which they cooked, first boiling them in a lye made from ashes, to take from them their excessive bitterness. We distributed to others a small portion of smoked fish, which they cooked in water, and on it kept themselves alive. The more favored among them received a little Indian meal, boiled in water.

Before the snow had covered the ground, we had bought five or six hundred bushels of acorns, and had dispatched several canoes to procure among the Algonquin Nations, 150, 200, or 250 miles away, a supply of fish. The little corn we had was the produce of Huron industry in times of prosperity. It was for them, as for ourselves, that God had provided this manna from Heaven, for so I term what was the greatest wealth we possessed, which, in France, I would have called great poverty and misery.

THE CAPTURE AND DEVASTATION OF THE MISSION OF SAINT JEAN, BY THE IROQUOIS; AND THE DEATH OF FATHER CHARLES GARNIER, WHO WAS MISSIONARY THERE.

IN the Mountains, the people of which we name the Petun nation, we have had, for some years, two Missions; in each were two of our Fathers. The one nearest to the enemy was what bore the name of Saint Jean; its principal village, called by the same name, contained about five or six hundred families. It was a field watered by the sweat of one of the most excellent Missionaries who had dwelt in these regions, Father Charles Garnier, who was also to water it with his blood, since there both he and his flock have met death. We received intelligence of it, toward the close of November, from two Christian Hurons, escaped from a band of about three hundred Iroquois, who told us that the enemy was still irresolute as to what measures he would take, whether against the Petuns, or against the Island on which we were. Then, we kept ourselves in a state of defense, and detained our Hurons, who had proposed taking the field to meet that enemy.

At the same time, we caused the news to be speedily conveyed to the people of the Petun nation, who received it with joy, regarding that hostile band as already conquered, and as occasion for their triumph. They resolutely awaited them for some days; then, wearying because victory was so slowly coming to them, they desired to go to meet it, at least the inhabitants of the village of Saint Jean. They hurried their attack, fearing in case the Iroquois should escape them, and desiring to surprise the Iroquois while they were still on the road. They set out on the fifth day of December, directing their route toward the place where the enemy was expected. But the Iroquois, having taken a roundabout way, was not met; and to crown our misfortunes, the enemy, as they approached the village, seized a man and woman who had just come out of it. They learned from these two captives the condition of the place, and ascertained that it was destitute of the better part of its people. Losing no time, they quickened their pace that they might lay waste everything, opportunity so favoring them.

It was on the seventh day of last December, 1649, toward three o'clock in the afternoon, that this band of Iroquois appeared at the gates of the village, spreading immediate dismay, and striking terror into all those poor people and finding themselves vanquished when they thought to be themselves the conquerors. Some took to flight; others were slain on the spot. To many, the flames, which were already consuming some of their cabins, gave the first intelligence of the disaster. Many were taken prisoner; but the victorious enemy, fearing the return of the warriors who had gone to meet them, hurried their retreat so hastily that they put to death all the old men and children, and all whom they deemed unable to keep up with them in their flight.

It was a scene of incredible cruelty. The enemy snatched from a Mother her infants, so they could be thrown into the fire; other children saw their Mothers beaten to death at their feet or suffering in the flames, permission, in either case, being denied them to show the least compassion. It was a crime to shed a tear, these Indians demanding that their prisoners should go into captivity as if they were marching to their triumph. A poor Christian Mother, who wept for the death of her infant, was killed on the spot, because she still loved, and could not stifle soon enough her Natural feelings.

Father Charles Garnier was the only one of our Fathers in that Mission. When the enemy appeared, he was instructing the people in the cabins which he was visiting. At the noise of the alarm, he went out, going straight to the Church, where he found some Christians. "We are dead men," he said to them. "Pray to God, and flee by whatever way you may be able to escape. Bear about with you your faith through what of life remains; and may death find you with God in mind." He gave them his blessing, then left hurriedly, to go to the help of souls.

Several found a favorable exit for their flight; they implored the Father to flee with them, but the bonds of Charity restrained him. Borne on by his fervor, he hurried everywhere, either to give absolution to the Christians whom he met, or to seek, in the burning cabins, the children, the sick, or the Christian trainees, over whom, in the midst of the flames, he poured the waters of baptism.

It was while therefore engaged that he was encountered by the death which he had looked in the face without fearing it. A bullet from a musket struck him, penetrating a little below the breast; another, from the same volley, tore open his stomach, lodging in the thigh, and bringing him to the ground. His courage, however, was unabated. The barbarian who had fired the shot stripped him of his cassock, and left him, weltering in his blood, to pursue the other fugitives.

This good Father, a short time after, was seen to clasp his hands, offering some prayer; then, looking about him, he perceived, at a distance of 25 or 30 feet, a poor dying Man, who, like himself, had received the stroke of death, but had still some remains of life. Murmuring a few words of prayer, he struggled to his knees, and rising with difficulty, dragged himself as best he might toward the sufferer, to assist him it dying well. He had made but three or four steps when he fell again, somewhat heavily. Raising himself for the second time, he got, once more, upon his knees and strove to continue on his way; but his body, drained of its blood, which was flowing in abundance from his wounds, had not the strength of his courage. For the third time he fell, having proceeded but five or six steps.

Further than this, we have not been able to ascertain what he accomplished, the good Christian woman who faithfully told all this to us having seen no more of him, being herself overtaken by an Iroquois, who struck her on the head with a war-hatchet, felling her upon the spot, though she afterward escaped. The Father shortly after received from a hatchet two blows upon the temples, one on either side, which penetrated to the brain. To him it was the recompense for all past services, the richest he had hoped for from God's goodness. His body was stripped, and left, entirely naked, where it lay.

Two of our Fathers, who were in the nearest neighboring Mission, received a remnant of these poor fugitive Christians, who arrived all out of breath, many of them all covered with their own blood. The night was one of continual alarm, owing to the fear, which had seized all, of a similar misfortune. Toward the break of day, it was ascertained from certain spies that the enemy had retired. The two Fathers at once set out, so they could themselves look upon a spectacle most sad indeed, but still acceptable to God. They found only dead bodies heaped together, and the remains of poor Christians, some who were almost consumed in the pitiable remains of the still burning village; others deluged with their own blood, and a few who yet showed some signs of life, but were all covered with wounds. In the midst of that desolated village, they caught sight of the body they had come to seek; but so little recognizable was it, being completely covered with its blood, and the ashes of the fire, that they passed it by. Some Christian Indians, however, recognized their Father. They buried him in the same spot on which their Church had stood, although there remained no longer any vestige of it, the fire having consumed all.

The two good Fathers divested themselves of part of their apparel, to cloth the dead; they could do no more, unless it were to return entirely unclothed. Dread, in case the enemy might retrace his steps, compelled all that escort to set out again that same day, and, without losing time, to return as speedily as possible, to the place from where they had departed, without food or drink; by roads difficult of passage, and at a most fatiguing season, as the snow had already covered the ground.

Two days after the taking and burning of the village, its inhabitants returned, who, having discovered the change of plan which had led the enemy to take another route, had had their suspicions of the misfortune that had happened. But now they saw it with their own eyes; and at the sight of the ashes, and the dead bodies of their relatives, their wives, and their children, they maintained for half the day a profound silence, seated, after the manner of Indians, upon the ground, without lifting their eyes, or uttering even a sigh, like marble statues, without speech, without sight, and without motion. For it is how the Indians mourn, at least the men and the warriors; tears, cries, and lamentations befitting, so they say, the women.

Father Charles Garnier was born in Paris, in 1605, and entered our Jesuits in 1624; he was therefore little over 44 years of age on the 7th of December, 1649, the day on which he died in labors which were truly Apostolic, and in which he had lived since the year 1636, when he left France and went up to the country of the Hurons.

Every time that he returned from his Mission rounds, he never failed to sharpen freshly the iron points of a belt all covered with spurs, which he wore next to his skin. Also, he would often use a discipline of wire, armed with sharpened points. His daily food differed in no way from that of the Indians; it was the scantiest that a miserable beggar would expect in France. During that last year of famine, acorns and bitter roots were, to him, delicacies, not that he was insensible to their bitterness, but that love gave a relish to them. And yet he had ever been the cherished child of a rich and noble house, and the object of all a father's endearments.

In his latest letters, addressed to me three days before his death, in response to a request which I made to him touching the state of his health, asking if it would not be right that he should leave for a time his Mission, to come once more to see us, and recruit a little his strength, he answered me: "It is true," he added, "that I suffer something in regard to hunger, but that is not to death; and my body and my spirit keep up in all their vigor."

He took some sick people, and carried them on his shoulders for 2 or 5 miles, to gain their hearts and to secure the opportunity to baptize them. He accomplished some 25 or 50 miles during the most excessive heat of Summer, along dangerous roads, where the enemy was continually perpetrating massacres. All breathless, he would hurry after a single Indian, who served him as guide, so he could baptize some dying man, or a captive of war who was to be burnt that same day. He has passed whole nights in groping after a lost path, amid the deep snows and the most biting cold of Winter.

Not one Mission was there in the whole territory of the Hurons in which he had not been; and several of them he had himself originated, that, in particular, in which he died.

Often was he called upon to leave the care of Missions to till the ground; to harness himself to some conveyance and drag it over the snows, like a horse at the plow; to care for the sick; to take charge of the cooking; or to go up and down in the forest in quest of some wild grapes, achieving 25 or 30 miles in finding his load, to procure from it scarcely as much wine as would be needed for the celebration of a few Masses during the remainder of the year.

The Hurons named him Oracha.

THE DEATH OF FATHER NOEL CHABANEL.

HERE is the sixth victim whom God has taken to himself from those of our Jesuits whom he had called to this Mission of the Hurons, there having been not one of us who has died there without shedding his blood.

Father Noel Chabanel was the Missionary companion of Father Charles Garnier; and when the village of saint Jean was captured by the Iroquois, there were but two days in which they were separated, in accordance with the orders which they had received, our Fathers and I having thought it wiser not to keep two Missionaries exposed to danger; considering that the famine in that quarter was so severe that sufficient food for both could not be obtained. But it was not God's will that, having lived and been yoked together in the same Mission, they should be separated in death.

This good Father, returning where obedience recalled him, had passed through the Mission of saint Mathias, where were two other of our Fathers, and had left them on the morning of the seventh day of December.

Having traveled 15 long miles over a most difficult road, he found himself overtaken by night in the thick of the forest, being in the company of seven or eight Christian Hurons. His men were resting, and asleep; he only was watching, and in prayer. Toward midnight, he heard a noise, accompanied with cries, partly of a victorious hostile force who occupied that road; partly, also, of captives, taken that day in the village of saint Jean, who were singing, as was their custom, their war-song. On hearing the noise, the Father awoke his men, who fled at once into the forest, and eventually saved themselves, scattering some here, some there; and taking the route toward the place from which the enemy had come; though a little at one side of it.

These Christians, escaped from the peril, arrived at the Petun nation, and reported that the Father had gone some little way with them, intending to follow them; but that, becoming exhausted, he had fallen on his knees, saying to them, "It matters not that I die; of the blessedness of Paradise, the Iroquois can never rob me."

At daybreak, the Father, having altered his route, desirous of coming to the Island where we were, found himself checked at the bank of a river, which crossed his path. A Huron reported the circumstance, adding that he had passed him, in his canoe, on this side of the stream; and that, to render his flight more easy, the Father had unburdened himself of his hat, and of a bag that contained his writings; also of a blanket, which our Missionaries use as robe and cloak, as mattress and cushion, for a bed and for every other convenience, even for a dwelling-place, when in the open country, and when they have, for the time, no other shelter. Since then, we have been unable to learn any other news of the Father.

Of the manner of his death we are uncertain, whether he may have fallen into the hands of the enemies, who slew on the same road some thirty persons; or that having missed his way in the forest, he may have died there, partly from hunger, partly from cold. But it seems to us most probable that he was murdered by that Huron, once a Christian, but since an Apostate, -- the last to see him, and who, to enjoy the possessions of the Father, would have killed him, and thrown his body into the River. Had we been inclined to pursue this matter further, I feel sure that we would have discovered proofs sufficient to convict this murderer; but, in such general misery, we judged it wiser to smother our suspicions; and we closed our own eyes to what we were well pleased was not evident. It is enough for us that God's purposes should have been served.

Father Noel Chabanel had come to us from the Province of Toulouse, in 1643, having been received into our Jesuits as early as the year 1630, when he was only seventeen years of age.

God had given him a strong vocation for these countries; but once here, he had much to contend with; for, even after three, four, and five years of effort to learn the language of the Indians, he found his progress so slight, that hardly could he make himself understood even in the most ordinary matters. This was an embarrassment to a man who burned with desire for the conversion of the Indians, who in other ways was deficient neither in memory nor mind, and who had made this plain by having for some years successfully taught Rhetoric in France. Consequently, the temper of his mind was so opposed to the ways and manners of the Indians, that he saw in them scarcely anything that pleased him; the sight of them, their talk, and all that concerned them, he found irksome.

He could not accustom himself to the food of the Country; and residence in the Missions did such violence to his entire nature. There, one must always sleep on the bare ground, and live from morning to night in a little hell of smoke; in a place where often, in the morning, one finds himself covered with the snows that drift on all sides into the cabins of the Indians; where vermin abound; where the senses, each and all, are tormented both night and day. One never has anything but water to quench his thirst; while the best food usually eaten there is only a paste made with meal of Indian corn boiled in water. One must work there incessantly, though always so poorly nourished; never have one moment in the day in which to retire to any spot that is not public; have no other room, no other apartment, no other closet, in which to prosecute his studies. One has not even any other light than that of a smoky fire, surrounded by ten or fifteen persons, and children of all ages, who scream, weep, and wrangle; who are busied about their cooking, their meals, their work, everything that is done in a house. Join to these the continual sight of dangers, in which one finds himself at every moment, of attack by a savage Enemy who often will subject you to the sufferings of a thousand deaths before death itself ensues; who uses only fire, and flames, and unheard of cruelties."

THE MISSION OF SAINT MATTHIAS.

HERE lay the second Mission that we possessed in the Petun nation. Since the death of the two Fathers of whom we have spoken, a scarcity of workers forced us to maintain only one Mission throughout those Mountains, overburdening the two other Fathers who remained there with the care of the poor desolated Churches that had so recently lost their Pastors. After a time, we were even compelled to leave one only of those two Fathers to carry on the entire Christian work, one of them having been seized with a malady which caused us to recall him to quarters where he could receive a little more assistance.

Some infidel Captains, exasperated at the progress the Faith was making, and believing that it alone caused the ruin of the countries that are becoming Christianized, circulated a slander against us in the hope of stirring up the natives and inciting them to take revenge. For this purpose, the most eminent among them assembled in a village belonging to this Mission (it was the village of saint Mathieu, from which our Fathers were then absent); and in this seditious council it was boldly announced that a certain Huron, lately escaped from the hands of the Iroquois nearest to Quebec, had seen there some large wampum collars, sent by Onontio (the name which the Hurons give to our Governor). It was stated that this Onontio, wishing to turn aside the weapons of the Iroquois, fearing in case they should make a dash upon the French at Montreal, Three Rivers, and Quebec, had sent these presents and these wampum collars into the enemy's country, to persuade them to transport an armed force into the Huron territory; and that he had promised them that the French who were there should betray the Hurons and the Algonquins, by pretending to go bravely in their defense, but that, when the fighting took place they were to kill no one, having received from him secret orders to load their firearms with gunpowder only, without bullet or shot.

In this slander, they painted us blacker than our robes; they raised a cry of "Traitors, and treachery!" and talked only of massacring us; while the firebrands of the sedition noisily declared that they must kill the first Frenchman they should meet.

Indeed, noticing from a distance our two Missionaries, who were traveling, a few days after, to this village in their district where the council was held, there were shouts of "Murder them!" "Kill them!" Then, rushing to the gates by which they would enter, they greeted them with cries and hootings, similar to those with which they receive prisoners of war who are doomed to the flames. Our Fathers went in as usual, with calm faces; for they who fear God have no fear of his creatures, and they who have no other desire than to die in his service do not quail in such emergencies.

The rioters conferred together, to decide which of them should raise the hatchet against those two innocent victims. They cast upon them nothing but furious looks, and their hearts thirsted only for blood. But God stayed their hands, for that time; and the two good Fathers passed through the crowd of impious wretches, without receiving any hurt. Many who were not in the conspiracy, but who could not have been ignorant of what had been publicly determined, said one to another, "Are not these they who were to be massacred? How have they passed through the midst of enemies ready for murder?"

God did not content himself with protecting our Fathers in this danger; but, to repay them for the hardships and dangers of their journey, in a single day they baptized seventeen persons in the village.

The village of St. Jean had not been taken and laid waste by the Iroquois when that sedition occurred, but this event took place a few days afterward; and we have reason for believing that the death of Father Noel Chabanel was simply an outcome of the conspiracy. Notice particularly that the Huron upon whom fell the suspicion of murder committed on that Father was of the village of St. Mathieu; and that a trustworthy person told us that he had heard, from the man's own lips, his boast that he was the murderer; that he had rid the world of that carrion of a Frenchman, and had thrown his body into the river, after braining him. It is not a small advantage, to those who live in these parts, to know that they may expect death as much at the hands of those they recognize as friends, as from an Iroquois enemy.

In another village, dependent on this same Mission, our Fathers had built a small Chapel, and had built a belfry, to summon Christians there. The infidels became enraged at the sight of these objects of piety. They broke everything in pieces; profaned the holy place; plundered and stole the little furnishings of that poor Church, and all the possessions of the Fathers, who were absent on their visitation rounds in some of the more remote villages.

THE MISSION OF SAINT CHARLES.

CERTAIN Hurons, among those who, last year, fearing the fires of the Iroquois, had left their country and gone away far from us, so they could withdraw still farther from the cruel enemy, having come to a place which they deemed sufficiently adapted to residence, settled down there and built their cabins, intending to fortify themselves, and to make of it a new country. Two of our Missionaries, one of whom spoke the Algonquin language, the other the Huron language, having coasted all Summer along the shores of our freshwater sea (Lake Huron) to minister to the spiritual needs of both the Hurons scattered there, and the Algonquin peoples, told us, on their return, that it would be to God's glory if some of us were to winter in that area, where a yet larger number of people were to draw together. We accordingly assigned to them one of our Fathers, proficient in the Huron language, who left us in October.

Arriving at the new settlement, some Christians received him into their homes. The first thing they did was to build, with the bark of trees, a Chapel. Many attended the instructions as soon as they were given. Some others charged the Faith with being an evil thing, and would not listen to it, affirming that their country had never been so afflicted as when they had commenced to abandon their old superstitions, and to receive Baptism. These people were among the wealthiest and most comfortably circumstanced.

While their provision of corn was scanty, and although their greatest hope lay in the fishing, which, every year during Winter, usually affords a plentiful supply in that area, never had the fishing turned out so unproductive as in the present season. Their custom is to make holes in ice two or three feet thick; under these, having come upon water, they cast their nets, in which are usually taken large quantities of fish, which flock to these openings.

But this Winter there were no fish to be found in the meshes, ten or twelve little herrings, which were occasionally encountered, being as manna from Heaven to these poor people, who were perishing from hunger. Quickly they found themselves at the end of their scanty provisions, without corn, without acorns, and without vegetables. Some proceeded to strip the trees, boiling the bark to render it edible. Others lived on a certain moss which attaches itself to rocks, and on a sort of punk which, being first rotted in water, becomes absorbent, and swells out like a sponge. Once a day, they cooked, in a large kettle, a small morsel of smoked fish, which yielded a bitter soup, of which each person drank freely, so he could fill himself, and stifle his hunger with these watery draughts.

The good Father found himself at last reduced to this way of living for the space of fifty days, which were, to him, happy days, days which caused him to bless God, perceiving that the common misery was bringing down the arrogance of those who, at first, refused to listen to him. Now they flocked to him like sheep, and asked for baptism.

Toward the close of the Winter, these famishing people, undergoing a living death in these miseries, dispersed in various directions; a part of them set out to come to us in the Island where we were living, expecting to find there more relief. The Father accompanied them; and after a distressing journey of six long days on the ice of the lake, which was then frozen, they arrived safely at this house.

THE MISSION OF THE HOLY GHOST.

THIS Mission was established for the Nations speaking the Algonquin tongue, who have -- as little as the fish, on which they subsist -- no certain abode along the coasts of the great Lake, where they dwell sometimes in one place, sometimes in another, correspondingly to the different seasons of the year; or according as fears of the Iroquois compel them to move farther away from the peril which every day threatens them. This means that our Fathers who have had the care of that mission have led a wandering life among this wandering people, and have lived almost always on the water, or on desolate rocks beaten by the waves and storms.

It was time that God should give to them the spirit of faith; for, when Springtime came, bands of Iroquois, coming from a distance of 500 miles, surprised a group of these good Neophytes in a place where they deemed their lives perfectly secure; dragged them into Captivity, men, women, and children, not sparing even the young, but committing them to the flames with a cruelty beyond conception.

THE DEVASTATION OF THE COUNTRY OF THE HURONS, IN THE SPRING OF 1650.

WE had passed all the Winter in the extremities of a famine which prevailed over all these regions, and everywhere carried off large numbers of Christians, casting despair on every side. Hunger is an inexorable tyrant, one who never says, "It is enough;" who never grants a truce; who devours all that is given him. But, when the Spring came, the Iroquois were still more cruel to us, and it is they who have indeed blasted all our hopes. It is they who have transformed into an abode of horror -- into a land of blood and carnage, into a theater of cruelty, and into a sepulchre of bodies stripped of their flesh by the exhaustions of a long famine -- a country of plenty.

Our poor famished Hurons were compelled to part from us at the commencement of March, to go in search of acorns on the summits of the mountains, which were divesting themselves of their snow; or to go to certain fishing-grounds in places more open to the Southern Sun, where the ice melted sooner. They hoped to find, in those remote places, some little alleviation from the famine, which was rendering their existence a living death. They split up into bands, so that, if some fell into the hands of the enemy, others might escape.

The great Lake which surrounded our Island of Saint Joseph was nothing but a bed of ice two or three feet in thickness. Hardly had these good Christians left our sight than the ice melted under their feet; some were drowned in the depths, and found there their grave; others, more fortunate, extricated themselves, though benumbed with a deadly cold. It was A most cruel death to the poor old men, women, and children, to give up their souls on these snows, without help or aid.

Our poor starvelings were just beginning to enjoy the benefit of their fishery, which they found abundant enough. On the twenty-fifth of March, a war group of Iroquois -- who had marched over nearly 500 miles of country, across ice and snow, crossing mountains and forests full of terrors -- surprised, one nightfall, our Christians' camp, and perpetrated in it a cruel butchery. It seemed as if Heaven directed their every step, and as if they had an Angel for guide; for they divided their forces so successfully as to discover, in less than two days, every group of our Christians, who had scattered here and there. These were separated by 15, 17, or 20 miles, one hundred in one place, fifty in another; there were even some solitary families who had strayed into less well-known places, and away from all beaten track. Of all that scattered people, but a single man escaped, who came to bring to us the news.

My pen can no longer express the fury of the Iroquois in these encounters; it shrinks from the repeated portrayal of such scenes of cruelty, to which our eyes cannot become familiarized any more than our feelings, which are never dulled to the violence of all these torments which rage suggests.

Since then, misfortunes have crowded upon us. Hardly had the Christians who remained in the village of Saint Joseph enjoyed a few days' respite, to raise their hopes after so terrible a blow as what had stricken them down, than their fear of the flames, and of the cruelty of the Iroquois, revived. But an evil which they regarded only as remote seemed less terrible than the immediate pangs of an unbearable famine, which was already inclining them to the rejections of nature, and causing them to devour rotting carrion. The Mother felt no horror in satiating her raging hunger on the body of her own child; nor did the children spare the body of their Father.

Hunger drives the wolves from the woods; our starving Hurons were likewise compelled to leave a village where only horror abounded. This was toward the end of Lent. These poor Christians would have been only too happy had they had anything from which to fast, as even acorns and water. On Easter day, we had a general communion for them. The next day, they parted from us, leaving in our care all their little property, the greater number publicly declaring that they made us their heirs, perceiving clearly that their death was not far away, and that they carried it within.

Indeed, only a few days had slipped by when news reached us of the misfortune we had anticipated. That poor scattered band fell into the snares of our enemies, the Iroquois. Some were slain on the spot, others dragged away captive; women and children were burned; some few escaped from the midst of the flames, which struck dismay and terror into every heart.

Eight days afterward, a similar misfortune attacked yet another band.

Wherever they go, massacres await them. Famine follows them everywhere, in which they meet an enemy more cruel than cruelty itself; and to fill up the measure of misery without hope, they learned that two powerful war parties were on the way, who were coming to exterminate them; that the first designed to make havoc of their fields, to pluck up their Indian corn, and to lay waste the country: while the second group was to cut down everything that might have escaped the fury of the first. Despair reigns everywhere.

At the height of these alarms, two old Captains came to see me privately, and addressed me therefore: "My brother," they said to me, "your eyes deceive you when you look on us; you believe that you see living men, while we are but specters, the souls of the departed. The ground you tread on is about to open under us, to swallow us up, together with yourself, so we may be in the place where we ought to be, among the dead. It is needful that you should know that this night, in council, we have resolved upon leaving this Island. The greater number intend to take refuge within the forest, and live alone; and as no one in the world will know where they are, the enemy cannot have knowledge of them. Some consider withdrawing six long days' journey; others take their route toward the people of Susquehannock, allies of new Sweden; others speak boldly of taking their wives and children, and throwing themselves into the arms of the enemy, among whom they have a great number of relatives. My brother, what will you do alone in this Island when all have abandoned you? have you come here to cultivate the land? will you instruct the trees? These Lakes, and these Rivers, have they ears to listen to your teaching? could you follow all this multitude which is about to disperse? The greater number will meet their death where they hope to find life. Even had you a hundred bodies, to be present in a hundred places, it would not suffice; and you would be a burden to them, and they would hold you in abhorrence. Famine will track their every step, and war will hunt them down.

"My brother, take courage," added these Captains. "You alone can give us life, if you will strike a daring blow. Choose a place where you may be able to reassemble us, and prevent this dispersion. Cast your eyes toward Quebec, and transport there the remnants of this ruined nation. Do not wait until famine and war have slain the last of us. You bear us in your hands and your heart. More than ten thousand have been snatched away by death. If you delay longer, not one will remain, and then you would know the regret of not having saved those whom you could have withdrawn from danger, and who disclosed to you the means. If you listen to our wishes, we will build a Church under shelter of the fort at Quebec."

Having listened to the speech of these Captains, I made a report of it to our Fathers. The matter was too important to settle in a few days. We consulted together, but still more with God. We discussed this matter fifteen, sixteen even twenty times. It seemed to us more and more clear that God had spoken to us by the lips of these Captains; for the truth was apparent to us that the entire Huron country was but a land of horror and a region of massacres. Wherever we cast our eyes, we saw convincing proof that famine on the one hand, and War on the other, were completing the extermination of the few Christians who remained: but if we could conduct them to the shelter of a French fort at Montreal, Three Rivers, or Quebec, it would be, we thought, their only place of refuge.

Meanwhile, the enemy continued their massacres, without pause; the famine went on depopulating us: unless we hurried our retreat, we would save few Christians. The decision being slowly made, its execution must be speedy, for fear that the Iroquois, hearing the news of it, might lay a snare for us, to bar our way. It was with tears that we left a country which engaged our hopes. Amid these regrets, the thought was consoling that we were to take away with us poor Christian families numbering about three hundred people, sad remains of a nation formerly so numerous.

By roads which covered a distance of about 750 miles, we marched, upon our guard as in an enemy's country, there not being any spot where the Iroquois is not to be feared, and where we did not see traces of his cruelty, or signs of his treachery. On one side we surveyed districts which, not ten years ago, I estimated to contain eight or ten thousand men. For all that, there remained not one of them. Going on beyond, we coasted along shores recently reddened with the blood of our Christians. On another side you might have seen the trail, quite recent, of those who had been taken captive. A little farther on, were but the shells of cabins abandoned to the fury of the enemy, those who had dwelt in them having fled into the forest and condemned themselves to a life which is only perpetual banishment. The Nipissing people, who speak the Algonquin tongue, had quite lately been massacred at their lake, 100 miles in circumference, which formerly I had seen inhabited almost the entire length of its coast; but which is only a solitude. One day's journey this side of the lake, we found a fortress, in which the Iroquois had passed the Winter, coming to hunt men; a few miles from there, we met with still another. All along, we marched over the steps of our most cruel enemies.

Midway in our journey, we had an alarm that was thrilling enough. A band of about forty Frenchmen, and a few Hurons, who had wintered at Quebec, and who were ascending this great river, noticed the tracks of some of our scouts, which they took to be those of the enemy. At the same time, our vanguard had also noticed the footprints of those who had just discovered us. Both having retraced their steps, each side prepared itself for battle; but on drawing near, our fears were soon changed into joy.

These Frenchmen whom we met had accomplished, only a few days ago, the capture of some Iroquois, who had intended to surprise them, and who would have dealt a blow as successful as daring, had they withdrawn quickly enough after their first volley. They were but ten Iroquois, who had wintered about 150 miles above Three Rivers, where they were living by hunting, and awaiting, in the Spring, some band, of either Frenchmen or Hurons, who might pass that way. These enemies, having seen toward evening the smoke from the fires of our Frenchmen, who had camped about 2 miles's distance from their place of ambush, came by night to reconnoiter them. Indeed, they were bold enough, ten though they were, to attack sixty. They crept in under favor of a dark night, and were so lucky in the choice of their route that the sentinels failed to see them until they were already within the camp, and had discharged their death-blows on the first persons they encountered in their path, everyone being asleep. They killed seven of these before meeting opposition; among others, a Captain named Jean Baptiste Atironta.

Father Bressany, who was bringing back to us this band, with which he had gone down from the Huron country, toward the end of the preceding Summer, awaking at the noise made by these murderers, saw, stretched near him, his companions who had already received the death-blow. He cried, "To arms!" -- and at the same time received three arrow-wounds in the head, which covered him with blood. Our men rushed to the rescue. Six Iroquois were slain on the spot; two were taken prisoner; the last two, powerless to do more, took to their heels, and saved themselves by flight. Such are our enemies; they are upon you when you believe them to be 500 miles away, and at the same moment vanish from your sight, if, having dealt their blow, they decide a retreat.

The company which had met us, having been told of the overthrow of the whole Huron nation, decided to retrace their steps; so we pursued our way. Alas, that those wretched Iroquois should have caused such desolation in all these regions! When I ascended the great River, only thirteen years ago, I had seen it bordered with large numbers of people of the Algonquin tongue, who knew no God. These, in the midst of their unbelief, looked upon themselves as the Gods of the earth, for the reason that nothing was lacking to them in the richness of their fisheries, their hunting-grounds, and the trade which they carried on with allied nations; also, they were the terror of their enemies. Since they have embraced the faith, they are a people wiped off the face of the earth.

THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE HURON COLONY AT QUEBEC.

AFTER about fifty days of a most distressing journey in which many wrecks befell us, several of us having fallen over frightful precipices, and into yawning gulfs, we arrived at Quebec, on the twenty-eighth day of July.

We had remained two days at Montreal, where we were received with a heart of Charity Christian. It is an area possessing advantages as a settlement for Indians. But as it is an advanced post toward the Iroquois, from whom the Hurons flee more than from death itself, they could not bring themselves to establish there their Colony. If the Iroquois could be checked, that Island would be soon populated; and I even hope that, before Winter, some families of these good Christian fugitives will go there, and make it their abode.

It is customary with these Peoples, even with the Unbelievers, that when a nation seeks refuge in any foreign country, those who receive them immediately distribute them over different households. There they not only give them lodging, but the necessities of life as well, with a Charity savoring in nothing of the savage, which will one day put to shame many peoples who have been born to Christianity. I have often seen this hospitality practiced among the Hurons, as many times as we have seen nations devastated, or villages destroyed, or when some fugitive people, seven or eight hundred persons, would find, from the time of their arrival, benevolent hosts who stretched out to them their arms and assisted them: who would even divide among them a share in lands already sown, so they could be able to live, in a foreign country, as in their own.

On our Hurons' arrival at Quebec, the Hospital Nuns opened to them immediately their hearts, their hands, and the bosom of their Charity, not only on behalf of the sick, but also for some of the indigent families, whom famine still pursued. The Ursulines likewise, together with their good foundress, Madame de la Pelterie, labored for them, in this emergency. They took immediate charge of a numerous family, the first who, in the Huron country, had embraced the faith. They threw open their seminary to some little girls, which swelled their number. Their classes were opened to a number of day-scholars, whom they instructed in the Catechism, and the Huron tongue, and to whom they gave food, extending therefore their Charities at the same time to both their bodies and souls. Three or four of the more prominent citizens assigned themselves each with the care of a family. But there remained more than two hundred of these poor Christians who were unable to find any help in the famine that pressed hard upon them.

Until more can be done, we shall attempt to provide for their necessities. On their journey down, we had fed them. They come every day to our house for the allowance that is served out to them; they have built their cabins, and they will try by their labor to provide for themselves a part of their support. If, after having exhausted our resources, we find ourselves powerless to continue our charities, and see them dying here of famine, there remains to us at least this consolation, that they will die Christians.

But the famine is not the evil which is most to be feared. There is the terror of the Iroquois, who are threatening all these regions; who everywhere make their barbarity felt; who are venting their rage, more and more fiercely, not only against the remnants of the Algonquins and Hurons, but are directing now the weight of their fury against our French settlements.

Only a few days ago, another band of some twenty-five or thirty Iroquois had the audacity to attack, in open day, near Three Rivers, more than sixty of our people, who had gone in quest of them. These miscreants lay waist-deep in the mud and marshes, and hidden by the rushes, from where they discharged their firearms, and where they could not be approached. Finding themselves too much pressed, they took flight, and embarked in their canoes. Our people cannot always march together; many remain in the rear. The Iroquois, seeing them disunited, turned face, and fought against those who were the most advanced. Perceiving the forces reunited, they again took flight in good order, and after a while, returned again to the combat. It should not be supposed that they lack either generalship or courage.

We lost, in this encounter, some of our best Soldiers; others were grievously wounded. The Iroquois, finding themselves too hotly pressed, accomplished a retreat, with an order which indicated nothing of the savage; besides, their commander, the most prominent among these enemies of the faith, was a Hollander, or, rather, the monstrous offspring of a Dutch Heretic Father and a Pagan woman.

We expect, before Winter, three hundred Christian Hurons, who are to come to swell our new Colony. Six hundred of the Neutral Nation have sent us word that they are coming next Summer, to request from us arms and help, being now in open war with the Iroquois. Meanwhile, measures must be taken to strike at that enemy of the faith, and to find means of carrying the war into their own country. One successful year would be enough; and this handful of people, who only live to destroy the works of God, would be exterminated. After that, our hopes would bloom again.

THE CHURCH OF SAINT JOSEPH AT SILLERY.

THIS Church has not been exempted from the calamities which have overwhelmed the poor country of the Hurons.

A band of Christians from saint Joseph having joined, this Spring, some Indians of Three Rivers, and a few Hurons, with the plan, as they say, of cutting off the feet of some of their enemies, so as to prevent these from coming to disturb them at their prayers, encountered an Iroquois on the way, whom they made prisoner. Some of them being willing to content themselves with that prey, their Chief, named Jean Outagwainou, a tall and powerful man, a good Christian, and exceedingly valiant, replied that they ought to push on to the Iroquois villages, and attempt to surprise one of them. They pressed forward, therefore, stealthily, sending out an Algonquin and a Huron, to ascertain if the enemy were in the field.

The Huron encountered a band of Iroquois, and, finding that he was perceived, assumed a friendly guise, and, to save his own life, was guilty of most horrible cowardice and treachery. "How lucky that I have met you!" said he to the Iroquois; "for a long time, I have been seeking you." They asked him where he was going, and he replied, "I am going to my country, to seek out my relatives and friends. The country of the Hurons is no longer where it was; you have transported it into your own: it is there that I was going, to join my relatives and compatriots, who are now but one people with yourselves: I have escaped from the phantoms of a people who are no more."

"Are you journeying by this way, all alone?" they asked him.

"No," replied he; "I took the opportunity of coming with a band of Algonquins, who are now seeking you. I have wandered away from them, from time to time, to meet some people of the country to which I am going, so I may deliver myself into their hands."

The Iroquois, trembling with joy at this news, gathered themselves together; and proceeding under the guidance of that Judas, surprised our poor Algonquins, who -- trusting too much to their spies, or their Uncoverers, as they call them -- were not expecting a salute of muskets, which put them to rout. Many lost their lives; some saved themselves under cover of the forest; a large number were bound, to become the prey of those dogs. Our Christian Captain fought with a heroism that astonished the enemy.

The traitor, having dwelt some time with the Iroquois, had the boldness to return to the French and Algonquins, to plot, as it was believed, another treason, the first treason having succeeded so well without being discovered. But God will not permit that an action so black should be long hidden. The Algonquins, who returned from that defeat more dead than alive, having told their friends their suspicions of the Huron, he was questioned on the circumstance. He seemed to waver; they pressed him to tell the truth. Finally, he admitted his crime, confessing that love of life and fear of death had compelled him to that wretched act of deceit.

The Governor caused him to be apprehended; and after having been convicted of so foul a treachery, he was condemned to death, and delivered into the hands of his own people for execution. They thought first of the salvation of his soul: then they fastened him to the pillory erected in front of the French fort, where a Huron drew near, armed with a hatchet, and said to him: "You deserve death for having betrayed our friends and our allies."

"It is true," replied the culprit; "kill me."

The Huron then dealt upon his head a blow with the hatchet, which did not finish him; repeating it three or four times, he was put to death. Such was the reward of treachery.

Let us say a few words respecting our poor Christians who were led away to the country of fire and flames. We know little of the matter; but that little is remarkable.

Two Huron captives, escaped from the hands of the Iroquois, having been witnesses of the horrible torments which they made these poor victims suffer, have filled us with both grief and joy. They tell us that these good Neophytes chanted the praises of God in the midst of the frames; that it seemed as if Heaven, toward which they cast unceasingly their eyes, had afforded them more satisfaction and delight than the fire had caused them pain and anguish. But they extol, above all, one named Joseph Onahare.

That Young man had looked upon the Iroquois as nothing more than enemies of the faith and destroyers of the Christian Religion. He carried arms against them with the object only of preserving the Church; he had made the resolution to suffer and die with constancy for his cause. For this reason, finding himself a prisoner, he prayed loudly and imparted courage to his comrades, urging them to suffer the torments which had been prepared for them as children of God.

The Iroquois forbade him to pray, or to encourage his people. He looked upon them with a steadfast countenance; he saw them armed with iron, fire, flame, knives, and red-hot hatchets. But he laughed at them and their tortures; he continued in prayer, which so enraged the Indians that they decided to torture him in some new way, if he did not cease to invoke his God. They put him to martyrdom for three days and three nights, and were never able to make him cease from singing the praises of his Lord.

They uttered to him, in mockery, the reproach of the Jews against the Son of God: "Ask help from him whom you invoke; tell him to come and deliver you." But this Young man, thanked God for the grace he had given him to suffer as a Christian, and not as a common Indian. He paid him honor to the last breath; and those who looked on at these great sufferings said that they did not know which of the two appeared to them the more astonishing, the violence and intensity of the torments, or the Constancy and magnanimity of the Sufferer.

A year before his death, having gone on the war-path with a band of Algonquins, the chief of which was not baptized, as they drew near to the country of their enemies, their Captain wished to consult the Demon, to ascertain from him what route they should take to meet with success in their venture. Our Joseph opposed this, saying that the Law of Jesus Christ did not allow any communication with wicked spirits; but as he was not the most influential, the Tabernacle was erected; the Sorcerer -- or rather, the trickster -- entered it, shook it, and made it tremble after a strange fashion. His invocations he performed in such a manner that the Demon, or rather, the charlatan himself, changing his voice, and addressing the Christian, said to him in a threatening tone: "why are you not willing that I should be consulted? You attest the part of the bold, and you are but an arrogant man."

All trembled at that voice. The Christian, quite undismayed, replied: "You wish to put fear into my soul; I fear neither you, nor your threats, nor the Iroquois; I fear and honor him who made all things."

"It is I," said the Demon, "who created all things."

"You are a fraudster," replied our Joseph; "show me your power; I defy you. You would unsettle me; but you will only waste your trouble."

The Demon, abashed, remained silent; our Christian, however, received what seemed like a blow upon his side, which for three days impeded his breathing, every movement causing suffering. This surprised, but did not deject him; for he said in his heart, "It matters not; though I were to die, I will never yield to the Manitou." Finally the trouble left him, as it had seized him, in an instant.

While therefore contesting, they perceived two Iroquois; the battle of tongues was abandoned, and they started out like greyhounds from the leash. Our Joseph, running, fast as lightning, soon outran his comrades. The Iroquois, seeing that they were pursued, threw their clothing on the ground, and fled from death more quickly than from the storm. But our Christian soldier, soon outrunning that one of the two who had the least breath, struck him sharply in the side with a javelin, and without stopping, continued to pursue this man's companion; but, as the companion had too great a start, he failed to take him.

Retracing his steps, he met the sorcerer, and said to him: "Well, did your demon tell you that you would be found among the last in the race? Had I been a woman, I might have been afraid of him; but I fear neither you, nor him, nor all your spells."

THE INDIANS AT THREE RIVERS, AND THE ATIKAMEKW.

A squad of 25 or 30 men had gone, for trade, to the people of the Ottawa Algonquins; these are tribes who scarcely ever go down to the French settlements; their language is a mixture of Algonquin and Innu. These traders being provided with arms, partly for self-defense, partly for sale to this people, one of them, observing that his gunpowder was damp, exposed it to the rays of the Sun to dry it. Another, wishing to inform the Indians of the country of their arrival fired a shot from a musket, at a few steps from the barrel containing the gunpowder; this caught fire in an instant, and burned three Indians so severely that you would have thought they had passed through a great fire, so blackened and disfigured were they. They were taken at once into the cabins of the infidels.

The tricksters, being the most expert physicians of the country, offered to charm away their hurts by cries, songs, and drums, more suited to kill than to cure a sick man. Two submitted to their superstitions. The third, named Barthelemy Chigounabik, would never consent to be blown upon, or that he should be deafened with their howls. They said that it was all over with him if these medicine-men did not treat him after their fashion. "It matters not," he replied; "the life of the soul is to be preferred to that of the body." The infidels implored him to have compassion on himself. They called the tricksters; he repelled them, protesting that he would never rely on the demon. In the end, the other two died immediately, after the din of the drums and the howls of the tricksters, which caused much astonishment among the infidels.

I will set down here a remarkable story. A young Algonquin woman, seized in her own country, and taken to the country of the Iroquois, a somewhat comely person, and of good disposition, met with a good husband. After eight or nine years of captivity, she was taken so ill that her life was in danger. Another captive, named Monique, went to visit her. This Monique was blind when she was taken prisoner; and it was marvelous that the Iroquois, who put to death all the old women and the infirm, who can be of no use to them, should spare one who was blind. She had been instructed in the Hospital at Quebec; she understood the doctrine of Jesus Christ, and conversed on it with much intelligence and good feeling. God restored to her, not full power of vision, but as much as was necessary for finding her way, and for going about to comfort the Christian women and girls, who, like herself, were suffering under the weight of a harsh captivity. She formed little gatherings; instructed, encouraged, and taught them, and persuaded her companions to pray. She performed, in that land of horror and darkness, the office of a Indian layman or a preacher.

Having learned that the woman we are speaking of was ill, she went to her cabin and reminded her of what she had formerly learned concerning our belief. Seeing that the sick woman took pleasure in these talks, she pursued her point, she passed the night by her side, persuaded her to ask pardon for her faults, and urged her to desire baptism that she might escape the punishments and enjoy the rewards which she set before her. This poor creature, animated by a spirit stronger than her own, promised God that she would seek every means of being baptized, if his goodness would deliver her from the death she was expecting. Her prayer was granted, and she recovered; and desiring, in consequence, to go back to her own country, to fulfill her promise, her heart struggled with conflicting thoughts. She had a little son, aged about 7 or 8 years, for whom she entertained a singular love; her husband loved her dearly; she enjoyed full liberty in the Iroquois villages, and her husband's relations looked kindly on her. She hazarded the chance of being burned, or roasted alive, in the event of being overtaken in her flight. She planned going to a country that had been laid waste, where not one of her relations might yet remain on earth to receive her. It mattered not; she had resolved on keeping her word that she had pledged to God. She sought means of escape; and a friend of hers, a captive, promised to accompany her.

The resolution was taken; they made ready their little baggage, which could not be extensive, since it must not impede them in difficult places, either in walking or running. The night determined for their departure arrived, when this poor woman attempted to take farewell of her little son. The Indians are too fond of their children; they often trust to convince them by reason, of what, at so tender an age, they can only acquire by fear; she spoke to him in these terms: "My child, I am not of this country, having been taken captive in the country of the Algonquins, and brought to this village. Your father married me: but it would delight me to see once more my own country. For that reason, I have decided to leave you; do not sorrow, for I love you much."

The child began to weep, and said to her: "My mother, I will go with you; do not abandon me."

"My child," the mother replied, "you can not follow me; you would be the cause of my death. When I shall have gone away, address yourself to such women as are of my country: they will teach you what you ought to know: render to them obedience. And, when you will be old enough to come to me, remember that you have a mother in the land of the Algonquins, who loved you with all her heart; but on no account betray me, for you would be the cause of my being burned." Having made her goodbye, there occurred, unexpectedly, a hindrance which delayed their flight for seven or eight days; and during all of that time, this poor little innocent never made known his mother's plan. Such silence is rare at so tender an age.

Finally these two fugitives, seizing opportunity, dashed into the vast forests. In these great forests, the road is everywhere. They must shape their course by observing the Stars, without compass or needle. Having been already some days on the way, they saw some Iroquois who were returning from war, or from the hunt. Fear deprived them of their senses, and, in part, of their strength. She who had become our captive's companion bore with her a little infant, whom she had brought into the world a few days before her flight; seeing that her milk was dried up, as much through fear and dread of her enemies, as by the great toil she had undergone in a journey so appalling, and fearing that the cries and wailings of the little one would be the ruin of both mother and child, she took its life. But the poor unfortunate woman did not save her own life by that death, for she was recognized, seized, and bound by these Iroquois, so she could be food for the flames in their village; but dreading the fires of earth, and having no knowledge of those of hell, she, like one maddened, plunged headlong into these hell-fires by a self-inflicted death.

While the enemy were in pursuit of this woman, the other so cleverly hid herself, and proceeded on her way all alone. She reached the country of the Christians, where she told all her adventures.

THE ARRIVAL OF AN IROQUOIS IN FRANCE, AND OF HIS DEATH.

IT seems proper to say a word concerning the life of this Iroquois, before speaking of his death. In 1645, a band of Iroquois, on a foray along the great Saint Lawrence River, was seen by a small squad of our Indians, who were on the way to hunt down their enemies. The Captain of our Algonquins, named Simon Pieskaret, who was the first to see these Iroquois Adventurers, prepared for them so timely an ambush that he routed them. The Iroquois of whom we are speaking, and a comrade of his, were made prisoners in the fight. Pieskaret took them both alive, contrary to their custom, refraining from mutilating them, and presented them to Sir Charles de Montmagny, then Governor of all the country. As the Hurons had already given him a prisoner of the same nation, he wished to ascertain if, by means of these prisoners, the Iroquois were amenable to a lasting treaty of peace, so as to reunite all these nations, who tear one another in pieces, and prey upon one another after so strange a fashion. The result seemed auspicious. One of the three prisoners was sent back to his own country with words, or rather presents, which invited that nation to peace. They sent two Ambassadors upon this matter, in that same year; and in the year following, 1646, peace was fully concluded, and our prisoners were released and sent back to their own country.

The one with whom we are concerned, a man of intelligence, and of powerful build, having seen the gifts which the Governor had presented for his liberation, brought back with him a friendly feeling toward the French, and the desire to show his gratitude, declaring that he owed to them his life, as was true, for if Sir de Montmagny had not intervened in the matter, the Algonquins would have burned him, and cut him in pieces.

The same year, 1646, which witnessed the birth of peace saw also its death. Father Isaac Jogues, having gone to the country of those Barbarians with a young Frenchman, was murdered there in October. Our Iroquois, seeing their intention to put him to death, opposed it. He gained nothing by that but a blow from a hatchet upon his arm, while placing it before the Father to protect him. The death of Father Jogues, and the rupture of the peace, were concealed from the French and the Algonquins during the entire Winter; but in the Spring of the following year, 1647, the deceit of the Iroquois was exposed through the murder of a large number of our Christians, who were surprised by these traitors.

Our Iroquois was not one of the group; he did not go with his fellow countrymen to war, for he could not bring himself to fight against those who had spared his own life. But, having come in 1648, to hunt Beavers, quite near to the French settlement named Three Rivers, and seeing a sailboat manned by some Frenchmen, he came forward upon the shore of the great river, shouting, calling, and signaling to them to come to him. The Frenchmen, seeing that he was alone, approached him, and received him into their boat. A Huron, taken in war, who had become as one of the Iroquois, coming out of the forest, and seeing that they were carrying off his comrade, made signs that he would like to go with him; he was taken on board with the Iroquois, and both were brought to the Commandant at Three Rivers. They had three other companions, who were seen some time afterward; our men made every effort to surprise them, but their distrust led them to slip away, except one, of less strength than the rest, who, having been captured by an Algonquin, was put to death upon the spot.

The Huron who had become an Iroquois, when questioned by our Interpreters, admitted that he had intended, when his Beaver-hunt was over, to pursue the Algonquins; and that he would have taken or killed any of these, had he met him at advantage. Our Iroquois affirmed that, since the moment when the French had spared his life, he had always carried about in his body a French heart; that he had opposed himself to those who killed Father Isaac Jogues; and that he had received on his own arm the first blow that was dealt at the good Father, of which he showed the scar. "I have always had it in my mind," said he, "to inform you of the treason of my fellow countrymen; but I could not do so until now, when I have thrown myself into your arms." His self-vindication was not accepted, and his feet were shackled as a traitor.

Later, two canoes, filled with Iroquois, were discovered in the middle of the night on the great river. The sentinel having reported this to the Corporal, our Iroquois was made to mount upon a bastion. Shouting at the top of his voice, his people replied, and they conversed together in the Iroquois language; and in the end, a sailboat was sent off to the two canoes which brought back to the fort another Iroquois. There were now two in the hands of the French, who gave the name of Berger to him who had first come, to distinguish him from the others. He was sent, next day, to a band of his People who were under arms on the other side of the great river; from there he returned, accompanied by two others, who were placed in irons as well. Berger was freed from these restraints, as it was scarcely credible that, having enticed over the others, he would dare to make good his escape without them.

During the following days, other bands of Iroquois appeared. Berger played his part so well that two more of his fellow-countrymen came in, but only to be thrown into restraints. This proceeding caused astonishment; some attributed it to the love he bore toward the French; others regarded it as some secret treachery, which he planned to make successful in due time. However that might be, these birds weary of being so long caged, found means to fly away, despite their restraints and their guards. Berger, of whom we are speaking, alone remained among the French, the others having adroitly escaped. It was difficult to decide what should be done with the poor man. Some wished that he should be executed as a traitor; others said that, having surrendered himself to us in good faith, he should not be condemned to death on a mere suspicion of treachery. Finally, it was decided that it would be best to send him to France, for fear that, if he should come to make his escape, he might take away with him a too thorough knowledge of the country, and of the condition of the French and the Algonquins. Accordingly, he was placed in the care of a Father of our Jesuits, who was going across on business connected with these new Churches.

They embarked at Quebec, on the last day of October in the past year, 1649, They entered the port of Havre de Grace on the 7th of December. During that passage, the Father, from time to time, called to him this poor Iroquois, making him recite his prayers, which he knew very well, having been instructed during his stay among the French. He had often asked for Baptism, but the uncertainty of the future had hindered him from receiving so great a benefit, seeing that we preferred to give him more thorough instruction, and to gather from him some more certain proof of his goodwill.

When he was sent from the settlement at Three Rivers to the port of Quebec, where he was to embark, a remarkable thing happened to him. The soldiers and Sailors who were in the ship, fearing in case he should leap into the water during the night, to make his escape by swimming, and then by running to the woods, bound him, at evening, closely; but on the morning of the next day, they found him at liberty, and all unfettered. They tied him still more tightly, redoubling, on other nights, his bonds so they did not believe he could in any way liberate himself; still they found him entirely free and unbound the next morning. This made those who were in the ship, and who did not understand it, believe that he was a sorcerer.

I, having learned what took place, requested a young man, a great friend of the Iroquois, to go and see him, and to ask him, in confidence, what ingenuity he employed to free himself from bonds by which he was so closely and carefully tied down. The Iroquois answered -- with much gentleness, and with a presence of mind quite undisturbed -- that, finding himself so maltreated by the French, he addressed to God, in the pains and sufferings which his bonds caused him, these words: "You, who have made all things, you know that it is wrong for the French to treat me so roughly, taking me for a traitor; I am not that, as you well know; have pity on me. Having made this prayer, my bonds," said he, "fell off of themselves, without my making any effort." The French soldiers, a surgeon who was in the ship, and the sailors, employed their ropes, their bands, and their wits to tie down this man; and they found him always unbound, without the cords being in any way damaged.

The poor Indian, on his arrival at Havre de Grace, seeing, on the one side, the port so full of ships that they touched one another; and on the other, so many houses crowded together in one place, comparing in his own mind those grand vessels with their little bark canoes, and those houses with their cabins, remained for two hours without speaking, so overcome was he with astonishment.

On leaving Havre, the Father took him to Dieppe. He had provided him with shoes after the French fashion; but -- as those which are used in his own country are supple, like tennis slippers, or Buckskin gloves -- he could not become used to our mode of shoeing, and threw off both shoes and stockings; and although the season was cold and damp, and the roads all broken up, for it was about the 6th of December, he walked barefooted, and bareheaded, as briskly as in the middle of Spring or Summer.

But what he encountered on the way increased his first astonishment. He went out of Havre, one market-day, and passed by various places on Festival days, the roads being crowded with people. "Why," said he, "the French are everywhere; the country, as well as the towns, is full of them." That made him believe what some say in jest to the Indians, that there are as many men in France as trees in their vast forests.

The roads being slippery, the poor Iroquois sprained his foot, and injured the tendon in such a way that, when he arrived at Dieppe, the Father lodged him at the Hospital, to have it cared for. The Nuns, who manage that house with a delightful neatness and charity, received him, and had him carefully attended to; but, as the injury was quite serious, the Father, desiring to go directly to Paris, told him to remain quiet in that house, where he was loved; and that he would have him brought, as soon as he was well, to the city in which usually resided the great Captain of the French.

The Indian, on witnessing the departure of the Father, who was his one and only acquaintance, wished to follow him, exclaiming that his foot no longer gave him any pain. He set out on the way; but he had not gone a half mile before his foot and leg began to swell so much that he admitted his inability to walk. "Go back," the Father said to him, "to the house from where you came; you will be received with charity, and I will make arrangements for bringing you to the place where I am going, so soon as you can walk." The worthy man, afraid of mistaking one house for another, and perceiving, in the distance, a Frenchman going toward the city, asked the Father to ask him to take the trouble of conducting him to the Hospital; "for," said he, "I am deaf and dumb in France; I have left my tongue and my ears in my own country." The Father placed him in the care of this Frenchman, who escorted him to the house of mercy, where he was nursed and cared for.

Finally, it was plainly seen that he could no longer stand up. They placed him on a bed, felt his pulse, and detected a high fever which he had until then concealed. He was baptized, toward 8 o'clock in the evening; and half an hour after, his soul took its flight to Heaven. Such is the report, both written and verbal, of those whose eyes witnessed the happiness of an Iroquois who had, perhaps, eaten his share of more than 50 men.

I thought that this Chapter would conclude the Report for this year; but -- Father Hierome Lallemant having returned from New France by the last vessel, and not having met at Paris our Reverend Father Provincial -- we will insert here the letter which he sent to our Reverend Father Provincial to render an account of the missions which he has for so long a time directed at this end of the world.

LETTER OF FATHER JEROME LALLEMANT TO REVEREND FATHER CLAUDE DE LINGENDES, PROVINCIAL OF THE JESUITS IN THE PROVINCE OF FRANCE.

Reverend Father,

You will have already learned, by the return of the first vessels, the sequel of the disasters to, and the utter wreck of, the Huron Mission, which the fury of the Iroquois has at last accomplished. The Report of this, which Father Paul Ragueneau has sent, enlarged by some Chapters on the Missions nearer Quebec, gives us the circumstantial account of these misfortunes.

I do not know how it has come into the minds of our Fathers that it was beneficial for me to cross the ocean to contribute to the retrieval of our misfortunes, since there are in France so many persons capable of carrying on that work without me. If there had been no other reason, I would have left New France reluctantly: but their wishes at last decided me to do so. I have left the helm in the hands of him who has so courageously guided the Huron Church through its struggles, and so opportunely saved the relics or remains of that poor Mission.

I left Quebec on the 2nd day of November of the present year, 1650, and arrived at Havre de grace on the 3rd of December, in the company of Father Francois Bressany, and our Brother Jean Ligeois.

On arriving in the country, twelve years ago, I met with only a single Christian Huron family, with two or three which composed the Algonquin and Innu Church; and at the end of that time, going out of the country, I leave in it hardly any family -- Huron, Algonquin, or Innu -- that is not thoroughly Christianized, not to speak of the surrounding Nations, who come to these countries from every quarter, or of those whom we go to seek in their own abodes, and who, with time, seem likely to be no less teachable.

The second thing that has been to me a source of extreme consolation is the admirable state of mind in which I have left our Fathers and Brothers, and even our servants; they have asked from me no favor for all the labors and dangers they have undergone, other than an assurance of returning to the same employment as soon as God makes the way open to them. The Fathers whom I left behind, to be employed in the Missions and in duties at Quebec and its dependencies, are in number 19 or 20; the remainder crossed over to France by the first vessels, and by this last one, to the number of eight. All are firmly bent on returning to the battle at the first blast of the trumpet, there not being, for the present, either sufficient food or employment for them in the country.

The 3rd matter is the opening made for us at this time, for new Missions here below. Father Gabriel Druillettes, after having passed four Winters in various missions among the Indians, has gone to pass the fifth with the Abenakis, who came for him with many tokens of affection for their Archbishop (as they call him), and for his teaching. We are in receipt of letters from the Father, since he arrived, which afford us ground for much hope. Father Charles Albanel seems to wish to follow in his steps and footprints, -- having set out, before my departure, for his first wintering with the Innu Indians.

The Atikamekw, or "white Fish," a Northern nation of considerable importance, continue to urge us to visit them in their own country, a favor which, for lack of men, could not be granted them in the past. Now that we have enough of these, we shall go there in the early Spring, if the Iroquois do not bar the way. Those people of the Saguenay river (Porcupine Innu), another nation of the North, manifest the same friendliness; we have already made three voyages there. I expect much from them in time; and in this way we shall be kept busy.

The fourth matter for consolation that I see in this poor devastated country is the courage and devotion of our Religious women, both Hospital and Ursuline, who, having come into the enjoyment of what remains to us through the establishment of the Huron Colony close to their Monasteries, which serve the Indians for Parish church, and for a sanctuary for both the sick and the well, are happy in the discharge of the highest duties and most precious exercises of their vocation.

Jerome lalemant.

LETTER OF THE REVEREND MOTHER SUPERIOR OF THE HOSPITAL OF MERCY AT QUEBEC, IN NEW FRANCE, TO SIR N., A CITIZEN OF PARIS. 1650.

Sir,

We have not had, this year, the pleasure hearing from you. I do not think that you have lost affection for our little Hospital, and our poor, ever-afflicted Indians. Each year has its own cross; and this last has the heaviest, in the ruin of the country of the Hurons by the Iroquois, who have laid it waste by fire, massacred most of its people, and compelled the remainder to take to flight, and to disperse themselves in all directions. Almost all were Christians.

All our Fathers -- except two, recently martyred -- have come down here to Quebec; part of them have crossed over to France. Here are four hundred of these poor Christian Hurons taking refuge in Quebec, and cabined near the gate of our Hospital, to which they come every day for Mass. I have never before seen such poverty or such devotion. A little sagamite -- that is, a soup of peas, or Indian corn -- suffices them for a day; and yet they are fortunate to have it, and we fortunate to possess the means to give it to them.

Our little ward for sick people is full of poor French soldiers, wounded in battle with the Iroquois. One has eleven dangerous wounds from musket shots; and I think that, with all these, he will recover, by God's aid. See, if this be not a miracle, to accomplish this with so scanty a supply of medicines and linen; and with all that, we have taken in but a half of what we are accustomed to receive, and I do not know what will accrue to us in the future.

Marie de St. Bonaventure.

From our Monastery of the Sisters of Mercy at Quebec, in New France, this 29th day of September, 1650.

YEAR 1651
LETTER OF FATHER GABRIEL DRUILLETTES TO JOHN WINTHROP, ESQUIRE. AT THAMES RIVER (CONNECTICUT). 1651.

Distinguished and most honorable Sir,

I implore your Protection for the Christians against the Mohawks. These not only have long harassed the Christian Indians near Quebec, and most cruelly torture them by slow fire, out of hatred of the Christian Faith, but they even intend by a general massacre to destroy my Kennebec Christian trainees dwelling on the banks of the Kennebec River, because they have been for many years allied to the Canadian Christians. It is chiefly for this reason that our Governor of Quebec commanded me to offer you, in his name, the most ample Commercial advantages, and considerable compensation for the expenses of the war, to obtain from new England some Auxiliary troops for the defense of the Christian Indians (which he has already begun against the Mohawks), and which through his affection for the Christian Indians he wishes to promote their allies, who are Inhabitants of New England and the special clients of Plymouth Colony.

He therefore hopes that, in the same manner your Colony of Connecticut subdued the ferocity of the Narragansetts for its dependents who live on the Thames River, that is, the Mohegans, the Colony of Plymouth will wage war, with the consent of the Assembly of the Commissioners, against the Mohawks, the most cruel enemies of their Kennebec dependents, as well as of their allies, namely, the Canadian Christians near Quebec.

I implore you to display your kindness toward the Indians; not to disdain in your General Assembly in June in Hartford; to urge it upon your Magistrates; and finally, to recommend a favorable settlement of the whole affair to the two persons who are called the commissioners of your Colony.

Gabriel Druillettes

Jesuit Priest and Instructor at Kennebec.

THE JOURNEY MADE IN BEHALF OF THE MISSION OF THE ABENAKIS, AND OF INFORMATION OBTAINED IN NEW ENGLAND, AND THE DISPOSITION OF THE MAGISTRATES OF THAT NATION IN REGARD TO AID AGAINST THE IROQUOIS. THE WHOLE BY ME, GABRIEL DRUILLETTES OF THE JESUITS.

I LEFT Quebec for this Mission on the first day of September, with a passport and leave of absence from Sir d'Ailleboust, governor on all the Saint Lawrence River, accompanied by Noel Negabamat, Captain of Sillery; also assigned credentials enabling me to speak on behalf of this Sir to the governors and magistrates of that country.

I arrived at Norridgewock, which is the settlement of the Abenaki Indians farthest up the river of Kennebec, 37 or 40 miles from the highest settlement of the English on that river, which is 40 miles away from its mouth.

I arrived on Michaelmas eve at this highest settlement of the English -- which, alike by the English and Indians, is called Cushnoc (Augusta, Maine); and on the following day, Noel and I conversed with the Agent of that settlement, accompanied by the Abenakis, to whom we had spoken on the way. Noel, speaking with his present of a bundle of Beaver skins, said to him: "the Governor of the river Saint Lawrence, through the father who is here, speaks to those of your nation; and I, as an ally, join my word to his, not to speak to you alone, but rather to tell you to embark my word," -- that is, 'my present,' -- "to convey it to the governor of Plymouth." The Agent informed them that he would do with reference to the governor and the magistrates all that could be expected from a good friend; then Noel and the Abenakis requested that I go with him, to present in person the French governor's letters, to explain his intentions, according to the letter of credentials that he had; and to convey the message of the Christians of Sillery, and of the Christian trainees of the Kennebec river.

The Agent, named John Winslow, a merchant and a citizen of the Plymouth colony, who has a kindly disposition, answered: "love and respect the Archbishop," this is the name they use on this river, and on all the coast of Acadia, in speaking of me; "I will lodge him at my house, and will treat him as my own brother; for I know the good that he does among you, and the life which he there leads." This he said because he has a special fervor for the Conversion of the Indians, as also has his brother Edward Winslow, agent for this New England before the parliament of old England, who is trying to institute a brotherhood to train and instruct the Indians, just as is practiced with the poor, the charity of London.

I left Cushnoc (Augusta, Maine) by land, with that agent, since the frigate which was to convey us had had some occasion to delay, to await the Indians, and not be surprised by the ice; we were therefore obliged to go 25 miles, to embark by sea at Merrymeeting Bay, which the Indians call Natsouac. That road was difficult, especially to the Agent, who is already growing old, and who assured me that he would never have undertaken it if he had not given his word to Noel.

On the twenty-fifth, we set sail; and on the way we found at Temeriscau some English fishermen, some of whom complained to the Agent because he was conducting a Frenchman along that coast, who was a spy to serve the French, who were likely to ravage their settlements.

Contrary winds prevented us from reaching Cape Ann, which forms the Cape of the great bay of Boston, until the fifth of December; for the same reason, we were compelled to go partly by land and partly by boat, to cross over the great bay to Charlestown; we there crossed the river which separates it from Boston, where we arrived on the eighth. The principal men of Charlestown, knowing that I came on behalf of the French governor, went ahead to give notice to Major-General Gebin, so that he might be present at my entrance into his abodes. His agent, John Winslow, whom I shall from now on call my friend, on account of the friendliness which he ever showed me, -- having made his report to Sir Gebin regarding the occasion of my journey, he received me as an ambassador on the part of the Governor. He also gave me a key to an apartment in his house, where I could pray; and asked me to take no other lodgings while I should stay at Boston.

The next day, the eighth, Sir Gebin, accompanied by my friend, guided me from Boston to a village named Roxbury, where at that time was Sir Dudley, Governor of Boston, to whom I presented my credentials on the part of the French governor, which, having opened, he commanded an interpreter to translate from French into English. He was told that this man came to speak on behalf of Noel and the Christians of Sillery, as also of the Abenaki Christian trainees, who had made me their ambassador to him. He then appointed a day to hear me, on the following Tuesday, the thirteenth of December, giving orders that the magistrates should be notified to go themselves to Boston on that day.

On the thirteenth, Sir Governor of Boston and the Magistrates invited me to dine, and, at the close, gave me audience. Besides the Magistrates and the Secretary, there was present a man appointed by the people, whom they call a representative. I made a special request on behalf of the Abenakis who had been killed by the Iroquois, after which I was told to withdraw. Later, I was invited to supper, after which they gave me their answer. In regard to the character which I assumed of ambassador for my Christian trainees of the Kennebec, they told me that Boston took no interest there, and that I must address myself to Plymouth.

I left Boston on the twenty-first of that month, December, for Plymouth, where I arrived on the next day, with my friend who lodged me with one of the five farmers of Cushnoc (Augusta, Maine), named Padis. The governor of the place, named John Brentford, received me with courtesy, and appointed me an audience for the next day; and he invited me to a dinner of fish, which he prepared on my account, knowing that it was Friday. I found considerable favor in this settlement, for the farmers -- and among others the captain, Thomas Willets -- spoke to the governor in advocacy of my negotiation; and afterward we had discussions.

24th. I left on the twenty-fourth, and returned to Boston by land, together with the son and the nephew of my friend, who paid for me during the journey. I arrived at Roxbury, where the minister, named Master heliot, who was teaching some Indians, received me at his house because night was overtaking me; he treated me with respect and kindness, and asked me to spend the winter with him.

The next day, the twenty-ninth, I arrived at Boston, and proceeded to Sir major-general Guebin's.

On the thirtieth of this month, I spoke to Sir Ebens, one of the magistrates, who assured me that he was glad that the governor of Plymouth was willing to grant aid against the Iroquois. He said that it was reasonable to aid one's Christian brothers, even if of another religion, and especially against a pagan persecutor of the Christians. He presented to me the answer of the governor of Boston and of the magistrates to those of the governor.

On the last of this month, I returned to Roxbury to ask permission from Sir Dudley, the Governor, that safe-conduct be inserted in the letter for the passage of the French who might go through Boston against the Iroquois; and grasping my hand, he said to me: "Assure your governor that we wish to be his good friends and servants, whatever war there may be between the crowns. I am glad that the governor of Plymouth is willing to further the assistance that you desire against the Iroquois: I will aid him with all my power."

On the first of January, I wrote a frank letter to father Le Jeune, by an English ship which was to sail on the eighth day of the same month, concerning the whole state of affairs; Sir Guebins wrote to Sir de Latour, and addressed the whole to [blank space] to Sir Rosee. I asked father Le Jeune to send an answer, both to Boston and to our governor, by the fishermen of Gaspe.

I wrote also to Sir Edward Winslow, at the request of his brother, asking him to write, in favor of our business, to the Magistrates of New England. Later, I wrote to Sir Wintrop, son of the late Sir Wintrop, the former governor of Boston, who is one of the principal Magistrates of the colony of Connecticut, a good friend of the French and Indians.

On the third of January, I spoke to Sir Gebin, who told me that he would do what he could in favor of aid against the Iroquois, but that he believed that the people of Boston would not take any part; but that he believed there would be means to humble the Iroquois. Perhaps he directs his purpose to a new discovery which he has begun toward new Sweden.

On the fifth, Sir Guebin conducted me to the harbor, and particularly commended me to Thomas Yau, master of a barque which was sailing for Kennebec.

On the ninth of January, the bad weather detained us at Marblehead, where there are many persons; the minister, named William Walter, received me with great kindness. In his company I went to Salem, to converse with Sir Indicott, who speaks and understands French well; he is a good friend to our nation, and desirous that his children should continue in this friendship. Seeing that I had no money, he paid my expenses, and had me eat with the Magistrates, who during eight days gave audience to everyone. I left with him, in the form of a letter, a power of attorney which he asked from me, to act efficiently during the general Court of Boston, which was to be held on the thirteenth of May. He assured me that he would do his utmost to obtain consent from the colony of Boston, which served as a standard for the others, telling me that the governor of Plymouth had good reason for seeking to obtain that from the colonies. At my departure, he told me that he had carefully read what I had left in writing on behalf of our governor, and of my Christian trainees, and that he perfectly understood it; that he would dispatch a man to carry me a letter at Kennebec; and that he would tell me, as soon as he could, what he should have done in this matter, and obtained from the Magistrates.

On the twenty-fourth of January, I arrive at Piscataqua (Portsmouth?), which is 50 miles from Boston. There I thoroughly learned the story of Captain Kiervum, who captured in the vicinity of cape Breton, about July, a French fisherman named Eslie Cousturier, from la tremblade. The prize was valued as high as 1400 gold coins. Sir Chapellier, Vice-Governor of York, Maine, which is 5 miles from Piscataqua, assured me that everyone was indignant at this captain; that Boston had sentenced him to 200 gold coins fine, and each sailor to 80; and that heaven itself had visibly declared against him, for a severe northeast wind had shattered his frigate, which he had used to surprise that poor French Protestant, by virtue of a commission which the archduke Leopole gave him in 1647, to the extent of 28,000 gold coins.

Pierre Tibaud, a good Catholic, confirms this whole story to me as an eyewitness, who, seeing that that frigate, on which he was a sailor, was ruined, obtains from master Thomas Yau an engagement for coming to Canada in May. He is a young sailor from Saint Nazaire, on the river of Nante; is a good interpreter of English, Flemish, Dutch, and Spanish; and can serve as pilot for the coast of New England, as far as Virginia. I gave him a promise that he should be received in the capacity of a sailor at Quebec, for eight gold coins a month, as he was with the English.

On the twenty-fifth, at Piscataqua (Portsmouth?), Thomas Yau, master of the barque which conveyed me back to Kennebec, asks me for a simple certificate of the peace and friendly understanding between New France and New England, so he could proceed to isle Perce, about April or May, with thirty tons of Indian corn, besides other commodities.

On the seventh of February, at Damariscove, the fishermen show me much friendliness; they were the ones who had accounted me a spy, on my way to Boston.

On the eighth of February, I depart for the river of Kennebec, where I continue my interrupted mission. All the English who are on this river received me with many demonstrations of friendship.

On the thirteenth of April, Sir John Winslow, my true friend, arrived from Plymouth and Boston at Cushnoc (Augusta, Maine). He assures me that all the Magistrates and the two Commissioners of Plymouth have given their word, and resolved that the other colonies should be urged to join them against the Iroquois in favor of the Abenakis, who are under the protection of this colony of Plymouth, which has the proprietorship of Cushnoc, and for its rights of lordship takes the sixth part of what accrues from the trade.

Sir John Winslow said that Sir Brentford, the governor, who is one of the five merchants, or farmers, who furnish everything necessary for the trade, had already dispatched, by the twentieth of March, Captain Master Thomas Wilhet, who is attached to the Abenakis, with whom he has been acquainted at Cushnoc for several years, with letters presented in behalf of aid against the Iroquois. Wilhet carries these to the governors of Hartford, or Connecticut, which is on the river of the Sokoki Abenakis, 125 miles from Plymouth; and of New Haven, or Kwinopiers, which is 25 miles from Hartford; and even to the governor of Manhattan, to prevent him from further trading arms to the Iroquois, and to urge that he shall not oppose those who would attack the Iroquois, but even aid the English in this project, by virtue of the union upon which, some years ago, he entered with New England. This Captain has orders to be present at New Haven, to solicit the Commissioners, or deputies, of the four colonies, who are to assemble there.

Sir John Winslow also told me that the common rumor in Boston, where he had been ten or fifteen days, was that Sir Indicott would be governor of that colony at the first general court, which was to be held about the seventeenth of May. The same, and the letters of some private citizens of Boston, affirm that the general sentiment of the citizens of Boston is that, if the republic will not resolve upon this aid against the Iroquois by public authority, private volunteers are ready for that expedition, upon the mere permission of that request, just as, by favor of Sir Guebins in behalf of Sir Latour, some troops went against the late Sir daunay.

On the twenty-fourth of April, the Sokoki Abenaki arrives, bringing a message on the part of four villages of the Sokoki Abenakis, of the Pagamptagwe, of the Penagouc, and of the Mahicans, situated on the river of Manhattan; the Sokoki Abenaki answers the propositions that I had made to him last autumn, the eighteenth of November. (The Abenakis, joining me, had made a present to the Sokoki Abenakis, of fifteen collars, and ten or twelve wampum bracelets, which might be valued at seven or eight bundles of Beaver skins, to say to them: "Do what Onontio and tekwirimaeth tell you.") The Sokoki Abenaki said that those four villages, having held a Council during three months of the past winter, had decided to take the risks against the Iroquois with Onontio and Noel, whether or not the English will undertake the war against the Iroquois; and, when the Iroquois shall be exterminated, they will oppose every other nation that may wish to make war against Quebec. He adds that several other nations, which are allied to these, will accompany them to war, especially one called the Delaware (Lenape), numerous and dreaded by the Iroquois. It is situated between the Mahicans and Manhattan.

The Sokoki Abenaki offers to Noel Takwirimath either now to wipe away the blood of the Algonquins and of the Sokoki Abenakis who have killed one another inadvertently, through lack of recognizing one another; or else to wait until after the death of the Iroquois, to give each other the satisfaction which they are accustomed to render mutually in such a case.

THE HOPE INSPIRED BY THE INDIANS.

All the Nations of Indians which are in New England hate the Iroquois, and fear that, after the Hurons and the Algonquins, the Iroquois will exterminate them. Indeed, the Iroquois have broken the heads of many of their men, finding them hunting Beaver, without making any satisfaction. Also, the Sokoki Abenakis have been closely allied to the Algonquins, and are glad to deliver themselves from the annual tribute of wampum which the Iroquois exact, and to avenge themselves for the death of many of their fellow-countrymen, killed by the Iroquois. Besides that, they hope for the beaver hunt about Quebec, after the destruction of the Iroquois.

Finally, the single nation of Delaware (Lenape), which has arms, is enough to divert the Iroquois so well that they shall not have leisure to do us any notable harm.

WHAT MAY BE HOPED FROM NEW ENGLAND AGAINST THE IROQUOIS.

The English of the four united colonies -- that is, Boston, Plymouth, Connecticut (Hartford), and New Haven -- are well equipped for exterminating the Indian nations; they have exterminated two of them. They are so strong in numbers that in the single colony of Boston, four thousand men can be put in the field. They number, in these four colonies, at least forty thousand people; and the route by which they can reach the Iroquois is short and easy.

The special article of their union, which reads that without the consent of the Commissioners or of the deputies of these four colonies, no one of these colonies can undertake any offensive war, requires that those deputies assemble to deliberate in that matter; and that three colonies consent to this aid, so that the majority of votes may carry the question. I think we have fairly good prospects of this aid by means of the English, because we are certain that, of four colonies, three are for consenting.

The governor of Plymouth, with all his magistrates, not only consents, but urges this affair in favor of the Abenakis, who are under the protection of the Plymouth Colony. The whole Colony has a considerable interest there, because by the right of Proprietorship, it takes, each year, the sixth part of all that accrues from the trade on this river of Kennebec. The governor himself, with four others of the most important citizens, who are farmers of this trade, would lose much by losing the trade of Kennebec and of Quebec by means of the Abenakis, which will soon inevitably happen if the Iroquois continues to kill it, and to hunt to death those Abenakis, as he has been doing for some years.

The governor has a strong precedent for obtaining this aid, all the colonies having waged war in favor of an Indian nation which is on the river of Thames, named Mohegan; the Colony of Connecticut, having this nation under its protection, asked the three other colonies to undertake this war. The vice-governor of Boston, Sir Indicott, who probably is now governor, has given his word that he would do his utmost to have all the Magistrates of Boston consent to that, and unite with the governor of Plymouth. All the magistrates of Boston write that they will strongly recommend the matter to the deputies.

The interest which Boston has is the hope of a good trade with Quebec, -- especially since the trade which it has with Virginia, and with the islands of Barbados and Saint Kitts, is on the point of being broken off by the war which the parliamentarians are agitating, to destroy the authority of the governors who still hold for the king of England. This interest has caused the merchants of Boston to say that if the commonwealth should hesitate to send troops there, the volunteers would be satisfied with a simple permission for such an expedition.

The principal magistrate of the colony of Connecticut, named Sir Wintrop, son of the late Sir Wintrop, who first wrote to Quebec in behalf of trade, is friendly to the French, and will probably do what he can in behalf of this aid because of the letter which I have written to him, asking him to complete what his father began.

As for the governor of New Haven, there are indications that if he does not promote this affair, at the least he will not hinder it, especially since Boston and Plymouth, which are the two most important colonies, urge him on. Besides all that, I have written, with Sir John Winslow, to Sir Edward Winslow, the agent in England for the affairs of these four Colonies, to write a word in favor of the Christians and the Indian Christian trainees, whom he tenderly loves. A word from him is all-powerful upon the minds of the deputies of these four Colonies. Finally, what I have represented on the part of the governor of Quebec, and in behalf of the Indian Christians, seems to be so urgent that they will hardly be able to excuse themselves unless they decide upon this aid.

This favorable disposition of these three Colonies is enough to make us hope for permission for the volunteers willing to deal the blow; or, at the least, favorable letters for the province of Maryland, wholly composed of English Catholics, who are quite near the Iroquois.

NEW FRANCE, IN THE YEARS 1650 AND 1651. SENT TO THE REVEREND FATHER PROVINCIAL OF THE PROVINCE OF FRANCE. BY FATHER PAUL RAGUENEAU, SUPERIOR OF THE MISSIONS OF THE JESUITS.

CONDITION OF THE FRENCH SETTLEMENTS.

THE wheat crop has been good everywhere this year, but especially at Montreal, where the land is most excellent. That spot would be an earthly Paradise for both the Indians and the French, were it not for the terror of the Iroquois who make their appearance there almost continually and nearly render the place uninhabitable. On this account, the Indians have withdrawn from it; and only about fifty French remain there. It is a wonder that they have not been exterminated by the frequent surprises of the Iroquois bands, which have many times been stoutly resisted and repelled. Sir de Maisonneuve has maintained that settlement by his good management. Peace has reigned among the French. The greatest misfortune that has happened to them was in the person of a poor French woman who was seized in May by about fifty Iroquois, in the sight of the fort, and was carried away a captive. Afterward, she was cruelly burned by those barbarians, after they had torn off her breasts, cut off her nose and ears, and vented their fury on that poor innocent lamb, in revenge for the death of eight of their men, who had fallen in a battle this Summer.

At Three Rivers, some French and some Hurons were killed this Summer by Iroquois bands. The assistance that has come to us from France this year is absolutely needed in this place; for it has existed only through a miracle.

The Hospital Mothers are more than ever necessary for this country because their house is always an assured sanctuary for the poor, both French and Indians.

God visited the Ursuline Mothers with the destruction of their house by fire, which occurred on the thirtieth of December, two hours after midnight. The fire, which broke out in their bakery, had almost reached the upper part of the house before they noticed it. They were fortunate in being able to escape from the midst of the flames, and to throw themselves into the snow; and it was almost a miracle that their little Indian and French boarders were not burned to death. It was a pleasure to see these Mothers pass through the flames, carrying those little innocents on their bosoms to deposit them in a safe place, and at once returning into danger, without fear of remaining there themselves, or of being burned to death. All of their Monastery was destroyed by the fire in less than an hour; and nothing could be saved, except a few articles of furniture in their Sacristy. The fire had made a complete ruin of their clothing, their house, all their furniture, and the donations with which, for over ten years, efforts had been made to relieve, in part, their necessities.

The fear that they felt that thoughts might be entertained of sending them back to France, compelled them to adopt the holy resolution to erect new buildings; to incur fresh expenses and fresh debts, and to spare nothing that is considered necessary for the performance of the functions of their institute. We hope that as early as next Winter they will be able to take possession of the new building, which is already well advanced. We have assisted them to the best of our ability. Meanwhile, they are lodged in a small house that has but two rooms, which serve as dormitory, refectory, kitchen, hall, infirmary, and everything, for their community of thirteen persons. Besides these, they have some boarders, whom their charity would not allow them to send away, in spite of the almost unbearable inconveniences that they had to undergo, especially during the stifling heat of Summer and in a state of poverty which reduced them to being in need of everything. The whole country is interested in their re-establishment, chiefly on account of their Seminary; for experience teaches us that the girls who have been with the Ursulines feel the benefit of their stay there throughout their lives, and that in their households the fear of God reigns more than elsewhere, and they bring up their children much better.

The great Church of Quebec, the building of which was commenced three years ago, is not yet quite finished. Still, they began on Christmas to celebrate the Sacrifice there.

This year, we have begun a Seminary, where the children are boarded under the care of an honest man who has assumed charge of them; where they learn to read and write, and are taught plain-chant. This Seminary is close to the Church and to the College, where their classes are held, and where they are trained to virtue. Without this, our French would become Indians, and have less instruction than the Indians themselves.

CONDITION OF THE FORMER COUNTRY OF THE HURONS, AND THE NEUTRAL NATION.

THE Iroquois have not waged so pitiless a war against us for a year as we had feared. They turned their arms against the Neutral nation where they sent the bulk of their forces. They met with success, and captured two villages on the frontier, in one of which there were over sixteen hundred men. The first was taken toward the end of Autumn; the second, at the beginning of Spring. Great was the carnage, especially among the old people and the children, who would not have been able to follow the Iroquois to their country. The number of captives was exceedingly large, especially of young women, whom they keep, to keep up the population of their own villages. This loss was great, and entailed the complete ruin and desolation of the Neutral nation; the inhabitants of their other villages, which were more distant from the enemy, took fright; abandoned their houses, their property, and their country; and condemned themselves to voluntary exile, to escape still further from the fury and cruelty of the conquerors. Famine pursues these poor fugitives everywhere, and compel them to scatter through the woods and over the more remote lakes and rivers.

Those of the Hurons who, when their country was ruined, had turned their steps toward the Neutral nation were attacked by the same misfortune; some were killed on the spot, while others were dragged into captivity. Some others who were more fortunate, and escaped from these ruins, have gone toward New Sweden, to the South: others have gone toward the West, and others are on the way here, to join our Huron Colony. A canoe that was sent on ahead came and gave us notice of this.

The former inhabitants who remained in the villages of saint Michel and saint Jean Baptiste, which, before our misfortunes, were two of our Huron Missions -- when they saw that there was no end to their evils, and that one misfortune was followed by another, went to a Tribe of our enemies, the Iroquois, and now live as peacefully with them as if they had never been at war.

Last year, after we had left the island of Saint Marie, the Hurons who had not followed us in our retreat, but who had given their word that they would come down after us at the end of the Summer, were prevented from carrying out their plan, through a crowd of misfortunes which overtook them, one after another. The frost killed a portion of the corn, and this caused the famine to continue. A group of Hurons whom we met, and who were going back to their own country after wintering at Quebec, were defeated on the great lake by a band of about three hundred Iroquois, who lay in wait for them as they passed, -- and who doubtless would have surprised us, had not God enabled us to avoid their ambushes. A band of about fifty men of the Petun nation, who came after us, and followed our trail, were defeated by the same enemy. A great many Christian families who had scattered to live by fishing, met with captivity or death. Thirty Iroquois had the boldness to land on the island of Saint Marie, where they erected a fortress, from which they sallied out to massacre and take captives at the gate of the fort which we had left, and in which the Hurons had taken refuge. An attempt was made to besiege these thirty Iroquois, but they defended themselves stoutly; they killed the bravest of our Hurons when they approached, and had the good fortune to escape without any loss.

Toward the end of the Autumn, another band of Iroquois proceeded to that island, to carry away the remainder of the Hurons who dwelt on it. They erected a fort on the mainland opposite the island, with the object of capturing all who might go away from it. In fact, some Hurons fell into these ambushes, among others, one named Estienne Annaotaha, a man of note and courage, who, just as he was about to defend himself, was arrested by the cries of the enemy, who told him that they had not come to do any harm, but that their thoughts were all of peace; and that they brought rich presents to invite the remnants of the Hurons, who were dying of hunger, to take refuge among them, so that in future they might be but one people. This man, whose life is only one series of combats and adventures, feigned that he believed them; then, without showing any distrust, he walked into their fort, with the object of deceiving them also; for he knew that all they did meant nothing but treachery. They spread out their presents before him.

"It is not to me," he said, "that these presents should be given, but to more gray heads than mine, which are the counsel of our country. What they will say shall be done. Keep me here as a hostage, and send to them those of your number whom you consider the most prudent and the most courageous."

"Not at all," they said; "we assign you on that errand, and your comrades shall remain as hostages." Three Iroquois went with him as Ambassadors.

At the entrance of the village, he uttered a joyous cry which is a signal for calling the people together; they all hurried there. "My brothers," he said; "The Iroquois have changed their minds; their thoughts are no longer of blood or of fires, except to change them into bonfires. They are our brothers; they are our fathers; they are the deliverers of our country, who now give us life, after having almost led us to the grave. Let us not refuse it." He explains to them the plans of the Iroquois, without in any way betraying his suspicions, or the thoughts that he keeps hidden in his heart. The old Captains manifest in their speech the joy that they feel in receiving this news. There are only public acclamations from all the people, from the women and the children who redouble their joyful cries. The three Iroquois who were present could not hope for anything more favorable to the plan that brought them there.

They were taken into a cabin, and while they were treated to everything that was most delicious in the village, three or four of the wisest heads held a secret council with Estienne Annaotaha, who told them his suspicions. They all came to the same conclusion, that they should in no way trust this enemy, who had so often been treacherous; that their plan was probably to deceive them, but that they themselves should be deceived, meaning that they should be taken to turn this opportunity to advantage. The execution of the plan was left to him who had commenced it. On leaving the secret council, the Captains went through the streets, urging the women to begin pounding their Indian corn, and collecting their provisions, to be ready to start in three days, and go together with the Iroquois to a country which they should no longer look upon as hostile, but as a land of promise. This was said so boldly that no one could doubt it.

The women set to work to do what they were commanded; on their side, the men prepared what was necessary for the journey; all, both great and small, were busily occupied at this. The news of this was carried to the fort where the Iroquois awaited the result; and to remove all suspicion of deceit, Estienne was the first to return there. There were many embassies on both sides, with as much confidence as if there never had been war between them, until our Hurons had attracted into their fort over thirty Iroquois, when they seized and killed the treacherous enemies, who were biding their time to carry out the same plan, but were anticipated. One of them candidly admitted it, and said that the Demon of war had not been favorable to them. These thirty Iroquois were the bravest of their band. Three of them succeeded in effecting their escapes as they had been warned of what was to be done; Estienne wished, in doing so, to return the kindness that he had received from them when he was taken captive, and they spared his life, at the same time that Father Jean de Brebeuf and Father Gabriel Lallemant were put to death by those barbarians. When the Iroquois who remained in the fort heard of the massacre of their people, they were seized with fear, and at once took to flight.

In the Spring, our Hurons, who were sure that a powerful army would swoop down upon them to avenge this injury, hurried their retreat, some over the ice; others in canoes, as soon as it was possible to embark in them. They fled, and retreated to another island called Ekaentoton, 150 miles from there. Indeed, it was time to leave. The enemy vented their fury on some families of Christians, and on some old people and children who were unable to embark, because there were not enough canoes. Fire never loses its heat or its activity; and the hearts of the Iroquois will never cease to be cruel, as long as they remain pagans.

At the same time, a number of Algonquins, who had gathered together on the lake of the Nipissings, where they were fishing for sturgeon, intending to go down to Three Rivers, were surprised and massacred by a band of Iroquois. The poor women and children were, as usual, dragged away into captivity. Some, however, fortunately succeeded in escaping; they journeyed over the 250 and 500 miles of road, to come and join us.

A fleet of about forty Huron canoes, all Christians, which left Ekaentoton arrived safely to increase our Huron colony down here. God protected them from the ambushes of the Iroquois. Hunger was another enemy that tormented them and kept them company, for they brought no provisions with them from a country which, as it was no longer an abode of the living, but of the dead, was sterile this year, and compelled the poor wanderers to throw themselves in our arms. May God send us what is needed to support them until such time as they have rendered the fields capable of feeding them.

CONDITION OF THE MISSIONS FOR THE CONVERSION OF THE INDIANS. OF THE RESIDENCE OF SILLERY.

THE Residence of saint Joseph at Sillery can now serve, more than ever, as a refuge for the Christian Indians in their necessities, and as a sanctuary in their fear of the enemy. They go there even more willingly, because they find themselves protected this year by a good and strong wall, which is flanked at the four corners and can withstand the assaults of the Iroquois. The Indians know that it is not a place that is open to Apostates from the Faith, or to those who live scandalously in sin. A young Algonquin woman, who had been baptized some months before at Three Rivers, and who had not led there a life in conformity with the promises of her baptism, came down to Sillery with that bad reputation. "My daughter," the Captain said to her on her arrival, "you must either alter your mode of living, or you must change your residence." Some days afterward, as she had been a cause of gossip, he spoke more plainly to her: "Go away from here," he said. "The fort of Sillery is not for dogs, but for those who manifest their faith by the purity of their lives." She had to obey at once.

THE RESIDENCE OF MONTREAL.

THE Residence of Montreal will, so long as the war with the Iroquois shall last, serve rather as a temporary shelter for the Indians than as a permanent abode. It is an advantageous place for all the upper Nations who wish to trade with us; for, as they find there what they seek, they are not obliged to come further down and to expose themselves to new dangers from the Iroquois, who are more to be dreaded below than above Montreal.

THE ABENAKIS MISSION.

About the end of August of last year, 1650, two Abenakis canoes came expressly, on the part of that entire Nation, to get Father Gabriel Druillettes, who had already instructed them, so he might continue to render them that charitable service. The Father returned to them with one of our French laymen. This district was not within our jurisdiction, who at that time had no one but us to instruct them.

Father Gabriel Druillettes started from Quebec for that Mission on the first of September, 1650, accompanied by Noel Tekouerimat, the chief of the Sillery Christians. This last undertook the journey for the purpose of maintaining peace with these tribes who live inland, and with others, still more distant, who are in new England, with the view of requesting them to join in war against the Iroquois. The Father did not return from that journey until the beginning of June; and, about two weeks afterward, he was sent back on the same errand, from which he has not yet returned.

THE ATIKAMEKW MISSION.

THE most laborious but also one of the most agreeable of our Missions, has been that among the Atikamekw, which we have named "the Mission of saint Peter." It is now some years ago since those people began to have themselves instructed; and since then they have embraced the faith with a firmness so great that it seems as if it were natural to them. However, since that time, only those who have come to us at Three Rivers, at Sillery, or at Tadoussac, have received baptism and become Christians, because our Fathers could not go to their country. That is what they asked this year, and finally their desires have been fulfilled. Father Jaques Buteux was sent there. His health, which has always been delicate, caused us to doubt whether it would not be imprudent to expose him on so laborious a journey, and at the most disagreeable season of the entire year. But, in the end, we placed our trust in God; and grace supported him beyond what could reasonably be expected. The Father was therefore given notice for that expedition, which lasted three whole months. Having read his journal with satisfaction, I thought that I could not do better than insert it here, just as he has given it to me.

JOURNAL OF FATHER JACQUES BUTEUX, OF THE JOURNEY THAT HE MADE FOR THE MISSION TO THE ATIKAMEKW.

IT is impossible to imagine the efforts made by the good Atikamekw to attract me to their country. I was only too ready for this mission; but, as permission was not granted me, I could not comply with their requests. Finally, I obtained permission to go there, of which I at once notified the Captain of a band which was at Three Rivers. A host was selected for me, who provided me with what was necessary, a train, on which to drag my gear with me; snowshoes, for walking on the snow; etc.

On the 27th of March we started, four Frenchmen together, namely, Sir de Normanville and myself, with our two men, accompanied by about forty Indians, both adults and children. A squad of soldiers went with us the first day, for fear of the Iroquois. The weather was fine, but was not good for us on account of the heat of the Sun, which thawed the snow; this impeded our trains, and loaded our snowshoes, and even put us in peril of sinking into the water. I was suddenly endangered by a piece of ice that gave way under my feet; and had it not been for the assistance of a soldier, who held out his hand to me, I would not have been able to save myself from destruction, owing to the rapidity of the current that flowed beneath me. The first day's journey was amid continual rapid torrents and waterfalls falling over precipices, causing a great deal of thin ice which was dangerous and troublesome, because we were compelled to walk with our feet and snowshoes in the water, making the snowshoes slippery when we had to climb up ice-cliffs near falls or precipices. We passed four of these on that day; and all the distance we could get over was about 15 miles, although we walked from morning until night. The end of the day was harder than the beginning, owing to a cold wind that froze our shoes and our stockings, which had been wet since morning. Our escort of soldiers, who were little accustomed to such fatigue, was disheartened; and it was still more so when, at night, it was necessary to encamp in the midst of the snow, as in a sepulchre in the ground.

On the second day after our departure, we dismissed our escort, and advanced toward the upper part of the river. At a distance of a mile from our halting-place, we came to a waterfall which barred our way. We had to climb over three mountains, the last of which is of enormous height; then we felt the weight of our trains and our snowshoes. When we came to descend on the other side of these precipices, there was no other way but to let our trains slide from the top to the bottom, the height of the fall causing them to go beyond the middle of the river, which at that point may be about 300 yards wide.

At a distance of about 2 miles from each other, there were three other waterfalls of tremendous height, over which the river falls with a horrible noise and wondrous impetuosity, forming high icebergs, the mere sight of which inspires fear. Through these places full of horrors we had to walk, or rather to drag ourselves, as if on all fours. Finally, we stopped on the summit of a mountain that was difficult to pass over. This days' journey was hard, and everyone was fatigued with the march of eleven whole hours, and with hauling this load like a horse that draws a plow, without taking either rest or food.

On the third day, we struck our camp early in the morning, and walked upon the river, which was still frozen all along its course, and wide at that point. About two o'clock in the afternoon, a mirage made some tree branches of trees, that had fallen into the river and showed above it, assume the shape of men; everyone thought that they were a band of Iroquois who were lying in wait for us. Some young men were sent out to reconnoiter, and they reported that it was the enemy. Then, all the Christians prepared themselves to receive absolution, and the Christian trainees to be Baptized. After that, the Captain urged his people to the fight by a most Christian speech, placing his trust in God; all decided to conquer or to die. On approaching, the enemy proved to be an imaginary one.

On the fourth day, I said Mass on a small Island, and, after their devotions, they had a feast of Indian corn and eels. For food for over forty people, we had only two bushels of Indian cornmeal, one of peas, and a small sack of sea-biscuit. The difficulty of hauling provisions had prevented us from taking more; besides, we hoped to kill some game on the way, but there was not as much as we needed. We had barely enough to ward off death, rather than to sustain life. I had enough of my few effects; the difficulties of the road, the fatigue, and the fast, which I did not wish to break in Passion time, did not allow me to load myself with food. Still, God gave more courage to me than to a young man whom I had brought with me; he sank under the burden, and was compelled to leave us, and return with two Algonquin women, who left us two days afterward.

The fifth and sixth days were different, and still they were both alike as regards the fatigues of the road. It rained all of the first, and it, was fine on the second; but both were inconvenient because the snow, melted by the rays of the Sun, loaded our snowshoes and our trains. To avoid this, we were compelled on the ten following days to start early in the morning, before the ice and snow had time to thaw.

On the seventh day, we walked from three in the morning until one in the afternoon, to reach an Island. The additional load that I had to take after my companion left me, had also increased my troubles. The good Christians, who had observed my weakness, comforted me with a sagamite made for me alone, out of a handful of biscuit boiled in water, and half a smoked eel.

On the eighth day, to avoid the rapid torrents and the dangers of the river, the ice on which was beginning to break up, and could not have borne us, we entered the woods by a valley between two mountains. It was nothing but a mass of old trees overthrown by the winds, which blocked up a bad road, over which we had great difficulty in proceeding with our snowshoes on our feet, as they caught in the branches of those trees. Finally; beyond the declivity of the land, we reached a mountain, so high that it took us more than three hours to reach its summit. In addition to hauling my train, I held in my arms a little child three years old, the son of my host. I carried him to relieve his mother, who was loaded with another child, besides her baggage, on her train. Beyond the mountain we came to a great lake which must be crossed; every step that we took made us think of death, and made us fear that we would be swallowed up by the waters. We sank in it up to our knees, and deeper still, beneath the upper layer of ice, which was thinner, while the second stopped us from sinking farther. Frequently the road was too slippery, and a false step would occasion a bad fall; and not only the legs, but the whole body, would be immersed in the water.

The ninth day was an extraordinary one, as regards both the length of the road, -- amid several lakes and rapid rivers, and the descent of mountains, and the time consumed in it, from early morning until evening. The fear that the lakes and rivers would thaw caused us to hurry our steps, until we were extremely fatigued. From time to time, to cheer us amid the hardships of the road, we sang Hymns as we walked.

On the tenth day, we walked past various mountains; we had to climb up and down until we reached a great lake, whose shores consist of perpendicular rocks, higher than any cliff in France.

On the eleventh day, we started three hours before daylight to walk over the ice, which a cold wind had hardened; we were favored with the light of the Moon. When day came, we resumed our way through the woods and by mountains, intersected by lakes and rapid rivers.

On the twelfth day after the Office of Good Friday, and after having confessed several Indians, who wished to separate from us, to take another road, and make some canoes, we reached the summit of the mountains, and a small river, on which we found some Beaver lodges; we killed six of these animals. Then we continued our route past three great lakes, in the last of which was an islet; here we slept on the snow, without erecting any cabins.

The thirteenth day was the most fatiguing of all, for me; we started at three in the morning, by horrible roads, through brushwood so dense that at each step we had to look for a place on which to put a foot or a snowshoe. I lost myself at various times, because the darkness prevented me from following the tracks of those who went before me. Afterward, we came to lakes that were quite slippery and on which it was dangerous to walk without snowshoes for fear of falling through the ice; but it was extremely difficult to walk on snowshoes there, because the surface of the lakes was roughened by the freezing of the melted snows. At noon, we halted. To restore my energy, they gave me a morsel of Beaver that had been kept over from the previous day for me.

On the tenth of April, we started early in the morning; the rain, which had fallen throughout the night, had thawed the first layer of ice on the lakes, and the snow in the woods, so that we had to walk in water up to our knees, and with snowshoes on our feet for fear of breaking through the lower ice. After having crossed four lakes, we reached the one on which my host usually has his abode.

We proceeded to build our cabins on a hillock of sand, and under pine trees where the snow was melted. We built a chapel, in which I said Mass in thanksgiving; and afterward we erected a fine Cross. Until now, we had contented ourselves, at our various camps, with carving a Cross on a tree; but in this spot we planted that noble standard. We rested for the remainder of the day; we would have had time to eat, if we had had any food; but, as the snow was half melted, and the fish had not yet drawn near the land, we spent fifteen days in great privation. My people began making canoes, and worked from morning until night; I am surprised that they could endure the work, as they did not eat more than six ounces of food in a whole day. Seeing that everyone was working for his food, I joined a good old man in setting snares for hares. One day, I lost myself in the woods, and was unable to find my way again. I walked all day long, through strange regions, by mountains, and valleys full of water and of melting snows, without knowing where I was.

Fatigue, the coldness of the water, and the darkness that surprised me while I was still fasting, compelled me to throw myself at the foot of a tree, all wet and icy, for it froze every night. I gathered some pine-branches, with which I made a bed to protect myself from the dampness of the ground, and a covering to shelter me from the cold; still, I had leisure to shiver all night long. Thirst was my greatest trouble; I was near a large lake, from which, from time to time, I obtained water to appease my thirst. At last, I fell asleep; and on awaking, after I had commended myself to my guardian Angel and to the late Father Jean de Brebeuf, I heard the report of a musket. It was fired by some of our people who had been anxious about me all night. I called out in reply to the shot, which was repeated. I proceeded in the direction of the sound, and, on arriving at the shore of a lake, I saw Sir de Normanville coming in a canoe with my host, to get me. When I reached the cabin, I was treated, like a man risen. from the dead, with a little fish that had been caught; and this is eaten without bread, without wine, with no other sauce than appetite, which never fails one.

On saint Mark's day, after the Procession and Mass, we blessed the lake, and gave it the name of saint Thomas; we also blessed the canoes, and gave to each one the name of some Saint which was inscribed upon it with red paint.

Before starting for the places where their gatherings are held, all the Christians prepared themselves by a general Communion, which was received on the first day of May. On the following day, we embarked in canoes; and up to the eighteenth of May we paddled over various rivers and many lakes, which had to be reached by roads the mere remembrance of which fills me with horror.

We climbed almost inaccessible rocks, and we were often compelled to cross over the land to attain lakes and rivers between which there is no communication, that is, we had to load ourselves with our canoes and baggage, often without having any food, or being able to find any.

Finally, on Ascension day, after having crossed places that caused us fear and terror, we reached the spot appointed for the gathering. I was delighted to observe, in a prominent place, a tall and beautiful Cross. Afterward, we fired a salvo from the muskets, to which there was no other reply than the voices of some children. This astonished us; but the Captain, who came alone shortly afterward to meet us on the shore, gave us the reason for it. "My Father," he said to me, "if we did not reply to your salvo, it is not because we are unable to do so, or through lack of love for you. We have plenty of firearms, gunpowder, and shot. But, at the present moment, we are at prayers in the Chapel, where we await you." "Let us go there at once," I said to him. It was a bark cabin with an arched roof, at the end of which was a sort of Altar, the whole decorated with blue blankets, on which were fastened paper pictures and some small crucifixes. We all recited the rosary together, and sang some devotional hymns.

Owing to lassitude and the fatigues of the journey, I needed a night's rest, but I was still obliged to allow some dancing in my cabin, as a mark of rejoicing and thanksgiving, according to the custom of the country; and on the following day, I had to attend a feast, though food was scarce. The slight quantity of snow that had fallen during the Winter in all those regions had caused a famine there, so much so that, where we expected to find an abundance of provisions, we met with nothing but scarcity.

The next day, seven or eight families came from another place, and I baptized their children; the Christians I prepared for Confession and communion. I expected to have Much difficulty in this, because there were a good Many Who had never confessed themselves since their baptism, and from early youth; but one and all of them confessed themselves as well as if they had been taught the catechism like the French. All had their rosaries, and knew their prayers, for they had taught them to one another.

Here are some proofs of the firmness of their faith. The first is to be found in their confessions. To remember their sins, they brought various tokens, which served them instead of writing: some had small sticks of various lengths, according to the number and grievousness of their sins; others marked them upon bark, with longer or shorter lines, according as they considered them more or less serious; others on some white and well-dressed moose or caribou skin, as they would have done on paper; others still made use of the beads of their rosaries. But those who marked down their sins every day on their calendars, and who confessed themselves by running over these for a year, caused me much surprise.

A proof of the Firmness of their faith is the diligence with which they perform the duties of a good Christian. They are not content With praying to God night and Morning, before all their actions and before their meals; but they usually pray Six or seven times a night, Interrupting their slumbers as Many times and kneeling on both knees.

Those whom I had taught last Winter -- among others, My host and his brother, a Captain -- did wonders everywhere, and at that assembly, I could not have desired anything in the world that could be better, either for speaking, or for attracting by means of their presents the more distant tribes to come and be instructed. My host alone gave for that purpose twelve thousand wampum beads to the Erie tribe.

Another proof of the true faith of these people is their constant thought of death. Formerly, if one spoke of death in their country, he became a criminal, and, as it were, a murderer. They have changed their style; when they speak of this life they call it only "the four nights that they have to live."

The devotion that they have for the souls of the departed is another proof of their faith. Not far from the place where this gathering is held, there is a Cemetery, in the middle of which stands a fine Cross. There are the sepulchres, four or five feet wide, and six or seven feet long, raised about four feet above the ground; a fine large piece of bark covers the grave; at the head and at the feet of the deceased are two crosses; and on one side is a sword, if the deceased were a man, or some household implement, if a woman. A good Christian woman brought me a robe of Beaver fur by the hands of her daughter, aged about seven years; and said, when her daughter presented it to me: "My Father, this present is to ask you to pray for the soul of her sister, and for her grandmother." Many others made similar requests to me. I promised to do what they wished, but told them that I would not accept their gifts.

Some time ago, when the Christians of this place died, their rosaries were buried with them. Last year, this custom was changed into a still more holy one, on the occasion of the death of a good Christian woman who, in dying, gave her rosary to another, asking her to keep it and to say it for her, at least on holy days. This act of charity was promised to her; and that custom has been introduced since that time, so that, when anyone dies, his rosary is presented, with some little gift, to some person selected among the company, who undertakes to carry it and to say it for the soul of the deceased, at least on Feast-days and Sundays.

After remaining some days at the place of this first gathering, I embarked, in company with thirty-five canoes, to go to another assembly, about 62 miles from there. We had no other provisions than the produce of our fishing. A piece of fish, weighing nine or ten ounces, was our usual allowance for a day, that is, it was our bread, our meat, our entree, our dessert, our everything. The broth in which the fish had been boiled was our beverage. Not that the fishing was not sometimes more plentiful, but frequently we had to be satisfied with five or six ounces a day, and sometimes less.

On the day after embarking, we encountered horrible waterfalls, one in a place where the river, after rolling over many rocky levels, falls suddenly as if into an abyss, like a stone trough or cradle, hundreds of feet long. In this cradle the river boils so that, if you throw a stick there, it remains there a long time without reappearing; then it suddenly shoots up, to the height of two pikes, 100 or 125 feet from the place where you have thrown it. To avoid these falls, we carried our canoes and our baggage over high mountains, by a narrow path on the edge of a precipice; and at every moment there was but a step between us and death.

On the third day, we reached our destination, and were saluted with a general discharge of all the firearms. After the Captain had delivered his speech to me, which was short, we were taken to a chapel made of the bark of certain odoriferous pine-trees, and built by the hands of these good Christians, in which no European had ever set foot. Two Captains did wonders by speaking highly of the blessedness of the faith, which they enjoyed through our attentions and charity. One of them, whom I had baptized at Three Rivers some years ago, an intelligent man, tall of stature, and an excellent Christian, brought me a small bundle of straws, as a list of those whom he himself had instructed and prepared for baptism. I was delighted to see that.

The first two to whom I spoke were two brothers, married to two young women who were well-formed, but as modest as any European Christian. The elder of the two brothers spoke to me therefore, while holding his rosary: "Here," said he, "is what I prize more than anything in the world. I have never seen any Europeans before today, and I did not wish to see any, except that I might be instructed and baptized. For three years, I have asked God that I might see those who teach and who baptize; he has helped me by bringing you here to baptize me. I thank you for having come; lose no time; teach us."

"But," I said to them, "do you know the prayers?"

"Listen," they said to me. Then each of them knelt and said his prayers, holding his rosary in his hand.

"But where did you get that rosary?"

"The Christians gave these to us," they replied.

After they had been taught some mysteries, they asked to be questioned; and when they knew it well, they divided themselves into small groups, to teach others who had not been present. In no time at all, everyone knew the Catechism; and a few days afterward, I baptized those whom I found best prepared.

Most of those who were assembled here had never seen Europeans. On Saturday, the Captain gave notice that all things necessary for the next day must be provided for, so that no work should be done on Sunday. This custom of celebrating the Festival days is observed not only by the Christians, but also by the others. One day, when I was coming out of the Chapel, they came to invite me to a feast in a certain place, where seven or eight kettles were hung up, near the Cemetery. An old man began to speak, and said that the feast was not a superstitious one, but an act of charity that they wished to offer to those who were hungry, and to request their prayers to God for the soul of one of his departed relatives. Meanwhile, preparations were being made for the feast, which consisted of some Moose, about twenty Beavers, and some Bear's fat. Prayers were said to God for the departed.

From this second gathering we went to a third, three days' journey from that place, accompanied by sixty canoes. I found occupation there; for those people came from a country where the faith was still looked upon as a law of death, and where polygamy prevailed. On my arrival, I spoke of the object that brought me there; these Indians gradually grew accustomed to such talks, and brought me several of their children to be baptized. On the following day, they and all the Christians erected a large Cross, and began to build a Chapel, and to prepare a Cemetery for the dead, close by. I taught in that Church, from morning until night.

Hunger compelled this gathering to disperse. They asked me to return in a year from that time. I left my Chapel in the hands of the Captain, as a pledge that I would come and see them again. The Neophytes asked me for rosaries, to give to those whom they might meet in the woods. I gave them all that I had left, except a few, which I sent as presents to the Captains of some Tribes further to the North, to invite them to come in the following years. I think that this will produce its effect; if the rosaries were handsomer, it would be all the better. No wampum beads are so highly prized, and for no other reason than that they look upon them as holy things, dedicated to God. Fervor for the conversion of souls is natural to these good Atikamekw peoples.

In all these regions there are many other Tribes, more than we can baptize, even if we had still forty years to live; and those people have no communication with us. It is from them that the Hurons, before their own country was desolated, obtained nearly all their Beavers, the supply of which, being no longer diverted elsewhere, will now come to our French settlements, if the Iroquois do not disturb our repose.

We returned by an entirely different road from what we had followed when going there. We passed almost continually by torrents, by precipices, and by places that were horrible in every way. In less than five days, we made more than thirty-five portages, some of which were 4 miles long. This means that on these occasions one has to carry on his shoulders his canoe and all his baggage, and with so little food that we were constantly hungry, and almost without strength and vigor. But God is good, and it is only too great a favor to be allowed to consume our lives and our days in his holy service. Besides, these fatigues and difficulties -- the mere recital of which would have frightened me -- did not injure my health. We returned to Three Rivers on the 18th of June.

Since writing the above, I have felt somewhat uneasy in my conscience because I have omitted to mention many cures that seemed miraculous, and were obtained through the prayers that these good people say with their rosaries. They have a great devotion for the blessed Virgin, for their Guardian Angel, and for the Saints whose names they bear. I was also afraid of being too diffuse, and, for that reason, I did not mention many pious sentiments of these good Neophytes. God will be glorified in Heaven, where we shall truly see that his kindness is everywhere alike in its quality, and that he has no less love for poor Indians than he has for those who, for many centuries, have made him the object of all their affections.

I hope next Spring to make the same journey, and to push still farther toward Hudson Bay, to find there new tribes and entire new Nations. Since that journey, the Iroquois have entered that country, which seemed almost inaccessible. As soon as any Father sows the seed of the faith in a new country, sickness and war at once follow him. The letter given below, written since the journey just related, is proof of it.

LETTER OF FATHER JAQUES BUTEUX, WRITTEN FROM THREE RIVERS TO REVEREND FATHER PAUL RAGUENEAU, RESIDING AT QUEBEC. 1651.

Reverend Father,

The Iroquois penetrated into the country of the Atikamekw, as far as the lake called Kesagami. I would never have thought that they could have found or reached that lake with their canoes. On the journey that I made to those regions, we walked about twenty days on the snow, before coming to it. The length of the road, the currents of water, the horrible and frequent torrents, did not prevent those Barbarians from going there, and surprising twenty-two persons in the darkness of night. There were only three men in their cabin who defended themselves valiantly; all the others were but women and children, who, after the death of the three brave warriors, were tied and bound, and dragged away as victims to the land of fire and flames.

A neighboring cabin was full of women whose husbands had gone out hunting; and when they heard the noise of the combat, and the cries and groans of their neighbors, they fled, under cover of the darkness. When their husbands returned from their pursuit of game, they were surprised to find their countrymen massacred, and their wives in flight. Thinking that they were sure to have gone toward our area, they came to seek the same refuge. I fear that those who are scattered about that lake will be put to death this winter, by those same Barbarians, who will surprise them easily, since those poor people think they are in safety.

Those who have come to throw themselves into our arms are most worthy of compassion, both on account of the loss of their friends, and because they have not been able to hunt and collect furs, which are the money with which they buy their clothes; and most of their food, from the French. They are in dire necessity. How can we live, and not aid them? They are Christians, and true Christians. This great affliction is far from casting them down, or making them indifferent, or less affectionate toward the faith. On the contrary, they are more eager to thank God.

One of them came to see me, this morning. In that disaster, he lost his father, his wife, three of his children, three of his young brothers, and a sister. This good Christian is deprived of a wife, one of the most comely and accomplished women that I have seen among these Tribes. She was a good housekeeper, industrious, most generous; courageous, modest, and charitable; as humble as possible; and she had a fervor for the faith. This fervor has made her a captive, and has caused her to fall into the hands of the enemy; for, when she was invited to withdraw inland in the direction of Tadoussac, which is a country unknown to the Iroquois, the desire that she felt to go and help the Christian trainees of lake Kesagami persuaded her to remain in the area where she was captured. Within a short time, she has won to Jesus Christ more than twenty-five families. She has so completely changed the heart of her husband by her gentleness and compliance, and by a solid virtue, that from a fierce and savage man, she has made of him a Christian, meek as a lamb. For more than six years, they exposed themselves to great danger, and to perform long journeys to come to confession and communion at the appointed time. They had intended to pass this Winter near us.

I do not yet know where the Indians who are here will go for their great Winter hunt. The Atikamekw have been invited to go down to Sillery. These good people replied that they had no other will than that of their Father; and that, although they were in greater danger here than at Sillery, they wished to remain in the place that God should decree for them through the mouth of him who guided their souls. I am embarrassed, for I do not know what advice to give them. If I keep them near me, they will, as I cannot give them all the assistance that I would desire, disperse from time to time to hunt, and may fall into the ambushes of the Iroquois. To send them to you, as you are already burdened with many Hurons and Algonquins, I can hardly make up my mind. And both they and I find it difficult to part; they are my hosts and my boatmen; it is they who have guided and conveyed me to their country, and who are to take me there again, next Spring. They have given all their wampum in presents to the more remote Tribes, to persuade them to attend at the appointed time and place, to hear me speak of the mysteries of our faith. Should they decide to go down to Quebec or to Sillery, I have some idea of following them, so that when they leave your vicinity in the Spring to return to their own country, I may be able to accompany them.

4th of November, 1651.

Here is another letter, dictated by a Christian Captain named Noel Negabamat, or Tekouerimat, and sent to a Father of the Jesuits, who went back to France on account of matters respecting these new Churches.

"FATHER le Jeune, I wished to go to France to see you, but I was prevented from doing so. I was sent to the countries of the Abenakis and of the English, who are their neighbors, to ask them for assistance against the Iroquois. I obeyed those who sent me, but my journey was in vain. The Englishman replies not; he has no good thoughts for us. This grieves me much; we see ourselves dying and being exterminated every day.

"For your part, be firm and constant of heart; speak to the great Captain of the French; encourage the other Captains, visit them often, and persuade them to defend those who believe in God. The Iroquois are weak, but you are strong; the Iroquois are few in number, but you are numerous. If you wish to destroy our enemy utterly, you will do it, and give us life once more.

"Remember that you must not deprive us entirely of your presence. I count all the Winters since your departure; we are about to enter upon the third. That is enough; return, I ask you, to our country; come and see your old friends and your spiritual children.

"I send you a robe with which to cover yourself, so that you may not be cold on the ship, when you return. Dispose of it, however, as you choose; you are the master of it. If it should please any of your friends, you may give it to him, for the French will not let you be cold in their ships.

"Pray for me, for my wife, and for my children; I have still three, a boy six years old, a daughter of four years, and a little son in swaddling clothes. We often speak of you to Father Dequen who is now our Father; he also often speaks to us of you. He is anxious to see you. My consolation is that, if I no longer see you on earth, I shall see you in Heaven."

Here is another letter from Father Martin Lyonne, written from la Rochelle to Paris, to the Father administrator for the Missions of the Jesuits in New France. In it will be seen the result of the voyage which he has just made to Canada.

Reverend Father,

We left la Rochelle last year only on the sixteenth of July, at which season the North and Northeast winds blow very little; and this caused a long and unpleasant passage. We reached Quebec at last, on the fourteenth of October, and left it on the sixteenth of November. Never have ships sailed from those countries so late in the year; not one of the inhabitants would embark, either for his private affairs or on public business, for they feared the ice in the great Saint Lawrence River, and storms on the sea. I do not know whether they had a presentiment of what was to happen to us; but I do know that we were beaten by all sorts of winds and tempests. We all thought that the beginning of December would be the end of our lives. The fury of the unchained winds lasted eight days; during that time, we were struck by such a heavy sea that about eighty large barrels of stones and eight large dismounted cannons, -- that served as ballast for our ship to keep her steady -- all the merchandise, our water-casks, and our peas, which then supplied the only food for our table, everything in the hold of the vessel, shifted, rolled over, and was thrown pell-mell on one side of our ship; and I do not know what prevented the cannons from bursting a hole through her.

She careened and lay over to such an extent that the water poured in over the side; our topmasts were carried away; the biscuit that remained was all soaked, and everyone cried for mercy. We remained about an hour in that position and had we shipped another such wave (as frequently happens), the vessel would have overturned and gone to the bottom. But the blessed Virgin saved us from this. I do not know how the ship, borne down as she was on one side by the weight of so many cannons, stones, and puncheons, could ever have righted herself without a miracle.

Finally, after weathering this storm, and other lesser ones that also troubled us, we reached, on Christmas eve, the place where we expected to find rest, and to perform our devotions. There was nothing but rejoicing; gladness beamed on the faces of all our people, saved from a watery grave. We were adorning the Captain's cabin with the finest of everything in the ship, to celebrate Mass on Christmas day; when suddenly we heard the report of two shotted cannons firing on our ship. This noise, in the darkness of the night, silenced us.

We were between isle de Re and that part of the mainland called Chef de bois: We heard men's voices, calling out: "Bring to! Bring to! Down with your sails; drop your anchor, or we will send you a broadside from fifty cannons!" God knows how astonished we were at these words. As we knew nothing of what was passing in France at the time, we thought that these were some of the King's ships, to windward of which we had inadvertently placed ourselves; for the darkness prevented us from recognizing them. We lower our sails, cast anchor, and are boarded by four boat-loads of soldiers and sailors, who leap into our ship, break open the lockers, and pillage everything they can find. They take our Captain before the person commanding five or six vessels that lie in that estuary; and to cut short, our ship is taken to Brouage. I went to la Rochelle with our brother Pierre feote, who has come back to France for his health.

Those are not all our adventures. We started from Quebec, two vessels in company, one called the St. Joseph; and the other la Vierge. We kept company all the time we were in the great river, until we left the land behind; when we became separated. As the la Vierge was a much faster sailer than ours, we thought that she would reach port long before us; and yet she has not made her appearance. This leads us to believe that the storms that nearly wrecked us have destroyed her; and our conjecture is all the better founded, because that ship was weak, and had great trouble in reaching Canada, for she leaked much throughout the whole passage.

I ask you to consider, as soon as possible, where you can find something to send to our Fathers, and to the poor Indians who, flying from the Iroquois fires, throw themselves into their arms every day, having but faith and Christianity for their sole wealth. Expect no help from the country. What it is accustomed to give for a portion of the support of our Missions is lost. Those who owned the two ships and the merchandise that I mentioned, cannot assist us after so heavy a loss.

At la Rochelle, this 27th of December, 1651.

Martin Lyonne. (No news has been received of the ship mentioned in this letter, since it was written.)

YEAR 1652
NEW FRANCE, FROM THE SUMMER OF 1651, TO THE SUMMER OF 1652. LETTER FROM THE FATHER SUPERIOR OF THE MISSION TO THE REVEREND FATHER PROVINCIAL, TOUCHING THE DEATH OF FATHER JACQUES BUTEUX.

Reverend Father,

The present letter will be to inform you of the glorious death of Father Jacques Buteux, who was slain by the Iroquois infidels on the tenth day of May of the present year, 1652.

Father Jacques Buteux was from Abbeville in Picardy, and was born in April, 1600. He entered the Jesuits at Rouen, on the second of October, 1620, and was sent to these Missions of New France in 1634, after finishing his studies in Theology.

For the period of eighteen years, he was engaged in the conversion of the Innu and Algonquin tribes. He was a man of prayer, and so incessant in self-flagellation that his life was an almost continual fast; he always made his bed on the hard ground; and cut short his sleep by a great part of the night; and although he was of a delicate constitution, and always suffering from some ailment, he added voluntary inflictions over and above his strength, not being able to sate his vehement desire for suffering.

On overhearing some persons say that they would rather die than fall alive into the hands of the Iroquois, "For my part" (he said to those to whom he was in duty bound to open his heart), "I would count myself only too happy if God had allowed me to fall into their hands. Their cruelty is great, and to die by a slow fire is a horrible torture; but grace overcomes all things, and an act of love to God is purer in the midst of flames than are all our devotions unattended with suffering."

His death was the seal of his life. He had converted to the Faith many Indian nations, for whom he had a Father's tenderness, while they all felt for him a love that was dutiful. But, above all, the Nation of the Atikamekw were the children of his heart. He had, with inconceivable difficulty and fatigue, made a journey to their country the year before.

This year, after passing the winter at Three Rivers, with a good many Indians who had gathered there to receive his instruction, some families of Atikamekw invited him to follow them into their own Country, where, it was expected, would be found a considerable number of other tribes from farther Northward, which had given their word to become Christians. They set out on the fourth day of April. Following is what he wrote to me on the eve of his departure:

"My Reverend Father: This time, hopefully, we shall start. Our company is feeble, consisting mostly of invalid men, and of women and children, the whole comprising about sixty people. The provisions and supplies of this little troop are in the hands of him who feeds the birds of Heaven. My heart tells me that the time of my happiness is approaching." These are his last words.

After a month and more of many fatigues, and of hunger, which followed them everywhere on this journey, several days often passing during which their hunting gave them nothing to live on, they decided to separate, and to take different routes.

After the other parties had gone ahead, the Father was left together with a young Frenchman, who was accustomed to the life of the Indians, and a young Huron Christian. The snow being melted, and the ice in the rivers broken up, they embarked in a little bark canoe, which they had made; and they camped were nightfall compelled them to halt.

The next day, which was the tenth day of May, they continued their journey; and after they had been compelled to disembark three times in places where the river goes falling down declivities and where it ceases to be navigable, (in such circumstances, one has to carry his canoe and all his baggage on his shoulders,) when they were making their portage, each laden with his burden, they found themselves surrounded by a band of Iroquois who lay in wait for them. The Huron, who was walking in front, was seized so suddenly that he had no time to take a single step backward. The two others, a little Farther away, were brought to the ground by the discharge of the enemy's muskets at them. The Father fell, wounded by two balls in his breast and another in his right arm, which was broken. Those barbarians immediately threw themselves upon him, to stab him with their javelins, and to kill him and his companion with strokes of their hatchets. Neither of them uttered a single word, except the name of Jesus. They were stripped entirely naked, and their bodies thrown into the river.

Two days later, some other Christians, who were following the same route, fell into the same ambush; and a young Algonquin, whom the Iroquois captured alive, was cruelly burnt there, on that spot. They reserved the young Huron, to burn him in their own country; but in a few days, God gave him means to break his bonds, and escaping entirely naked from his captivity, he arrived safely at Three Rivers on the eighth day of June. It was he who brought us this sad news.

Subsequently, the Christian Indians went to search for their good Father's body; but, despite every exercise of diligence, they never succeeded in finding it, although they found his Companion's body, half eaten by the Crows and wild animals.

I have been unable to prepare anything but this letter for the Report. The Fathers, who are only just returning from their Missions, furnished me their memoirs too late, and I send them to Father Paul le Jeune, administrator of our Missions, who will present them to you.

If our Lord preserves the country from the fury of the Iroquois, we shall see his name worshiped in this new world, where for five thousand years it had never been known.

Quebec, this 4th of October, 1652.

Paul Ragueneau,

of the Jesuits.

THE RESIDENCE OF SAINT JOSEPH AT SILLERY.

THE Christians of this Residence have given employment all the year to two of our Fathers, who have performed all the duties of good shepherds over their flock, administering the Sacraments of Baptism, Confession, the Eucharist, the Anointing of the Sick, and Marriage; comforting the sick, burying the dead, instructing and preaching to the living, working to the utmost of their strength; for it has been necessary, notably this year, to join worldly to Spiritual assistance, and this for two reasons.

One reason is that the Iroquois, being always in the field, cause these good Neophytes to fear that they may meet death in the forests where they go to seek their food. Wishing to go and kill wild animals, which serve them for food, they fear they may themselves be killed; this fear, during most of the year, has thrown them into extreme want. The other reason is that there has been so little snow this past winter that those who risked their lives to find game thought they would die of hunger and cold, so that, being destitute of all things, they would have died miserably or, at least, would have undergone extreme suffering, had not the goodness of some persons, whose charity is not limited by the confines of France, given us the means to aid them.

I could wish that people might witness the sentiments of gratitude that these good Neophytes have for their Benefactors, and hear the fine speeches they make in regard to them; for these favors cause them an astonishment which is all the greater because they have naturally little love or respect for those who are not of their own nation. They love one another, but have only demands for all Strangers. When they see that persons who are people of worth, like Captains or Captains' wives, do them a kindness from 2500 miles' distance, that touches them and makes them search for its reason; and when they learn that all those who believe in Jesus Christ are bound to love one another as brothers, since they will all be together in Heaven, and that it is in view of this that they are given help, that gives them a high idea of the Faith.

"I did not believe," said a Captain one day, "that there were in the world people so good as to send presents to those whom they have never seen. Prayer and belief have a strange power, since out of many nations they make only one. Since I was Baptized, it seems that I have gained a great many relatives. When I enter the Frenchmen's Church; I am told that the French are my relatives. When I see a baptized Huron, I look upon him as my relative; and if the Iroquois were baptized, I would consider them my relatives, for they would be no longer wicked."

Another Captain said to a Father: "Since you know how to paint speech," that is, since you know how to write, "and since those persons of importance who are beyond the great Lake" -- that is, beyond the Ocean -- "hear with their eyes," -- that is, know how to read, -- "tell them that we shall believe in God; and tell them to speak to the great Captain of the French, so he may give us aid against the Iroquois, who kill and massacre and burn those who pray and who believe in God."

Word reaches us by letter that the Captain of the Indians of that Residence generously aids the old women, the poor widows, and the orphans, giving them bread, peas, Indian corn, eels, and even robes.

There has been Baptized a young woman of about twenty-three or twenty-four years of age, who has remained a Virgin although she has had three husbands in succession. This poor girl, if we may so call her, was brought up in the innocence of the first centuries, having been born in a nation far distant from Quebec. When she was at the cove of Saint Joseph, a young man, after a stay of some time there, wishing to seek her hand in marriage, had her asked in private by a person in his confidence, if her last husband had not left her pregnant. She replied with a modesty and simplicity so natural that her words were readily believed. "It is true," said she, "my relatives have married me three times, and not a man has yet touched me." What I am going to say will be sufficient to prove the truth of her answer.

In the first place, these people, during the first two, three, or four months of their marriage, conduct themselves ordinarily as if they were brothers and sisters, giving as a reason for their mode of behavior that they love each other with a love of near relatives, who feel a repugnance for carnal communication. This affection of kinship is greater and stronger among pagans than conjugal love, into which it finally degenerates. But if in these first months they acquire a distaste for each other, they separate quietly, remaining as they were before.

In the second place, if a girl's Father or near relative bids her take her seat beside a young man who proffers his suit, that is, bids her marry him, the girl will obey without a word; but if she does not love him, or does not yet wish to marry, it is in vain for him to stay with her: she will never allow him a husband's rights. And the young man would scarcely venture to show his displeasure; for if he did, he would show that he did not love her. But finally, as he wishes to be loved in return, and, as it is not the custom of the Indians to violate one another, liberty being the greatest of all their blessings, he gives up that girl at the end of a few months, leaving her in her former condition. It is in that way that she of whom we are speaking had preserved her purity in three of their marriages.

A good Christian woman, said: "My heart is wicked. We have in our Cabin a young boy of another nation who will make the paper on which my sins are written grow large. He cannot be satisfied, but eats incessantly, and wants to eat all the time (in fact, he is tormented with the hunger of a dog), and steals whatever he finds that is good to eat. That causes me a vexation which does not come as far as my mouth, for I do not say a word; but my heart is naked, and I would be glad if he did not have that vexatious habit. I do not hate him, but I do not like his ways."

While the Indians of the Saint Joseph district were all at Mass, there was stolen from one of their cabins a beaver-skin robe that was entirely new. The one to whom it belonged, not finding it on his return, assembled the chief men of the place, who all reached the conclusion that this theft had not been committed by an Indian, but by some Frenchman. The young people, on hearing this, ran immediately in pursuit of two Frenchmen who had just passed, caught them and brought them to their quarters, intending to strip them of their clothes and all that they had, until the Captain of the French should have had the robe found or should have paid for it. He to whom it belonged said to them "Gently, young men; let us discard our own ways, since we have embraced others. We do not know how we should conduct ourselves on this occasion; let us send for one of our Fathers, and he will tell us what we must do." No sooner said than done. A Father having come, the speaker explained to him the reasons which made them conclude that this Theft had been committed by a Frenchman. "It is our custom," he added, "to strip the first persons whom we meet who are of the same family or nation as the one who has committed the theft. This booty is kept until the owner's Captain or relatives have given satisfaction to him who suffered the injury. That is our custom; but we abandon it to follow the ways of Christians. What ought they to do in this case?"

The Father told them that offenses were personal, and that these two Frenchmen must be punished, if they were guilty; if not, they must be set free, and everything possible done to discover the thief. Although these good people saw clearly that this mode of procedure was not in their favor, because thieves are not easily discovered, yet they accepted it; and after finding out that the two Frenchmen whom they held were innocent, released them. As this theft was recent, and as the Frenchman who had committed it saw himself in great danger of being discovered, touched, besides, with remorse at having offended God, he carried that robe to his Confessor and asked him to give it back in such a way that he should not be known. The robe was restored to the Indians; and because they know that the Governor of the country causes crimes to be publicly punished, they were told that he who had fallen into this error had come and confessed it, and that he had asked God's forgiveness, had restored the robe, and had been given a good penance.

THE HURON COLONY ON THE ISLAND OF ORLEANS.

I HAVE nothing to put under this title except the Letter of a Father of our Jesuits, addressed to another Father of his acquaintance who has been in this new world. Let us read our letter: the Father, after a few words of preamble, which I have omitted, speaks therefore:

"For news of our Huron Colony, on the 26th day of June last, we lost six of our best Christians, who went away to Tadoussac in a large Canoe that we had lent them. Their names are as follows: Pierre Ahandation, Andre Annenharisonk, Martin Honahahoiannik, Rene Hondeanionhe, Dominique Onnhoudei, and the pious Joseph Taondechoren. Three children were lost with them, Louis, son of Joseph, Paul, son of Pierre, and Nicole, daughter of Martin. They were all from our dear Mission of la Conception. While they were on their way down from the Island of Orleans to Tadoussac, to sell some of their Indian cornmeal to the Algonquins, and to obtain from the Algonquins some skins for making robes for their use, a storm overtook them in the middle of the great river, opposite Tadoussac, and swallowed them up in the waters, without our ever having been able to recover either men or Canoe.

"As to other matters, the Hurons who came down here are, a part of them, at Three Rivers, and the rest at the Island of Orleans, where I am staying with Father Garreau and four of our former French laymen. We live half after the Huron fashion, eating of their sagamite, without, however, depriving ourselves altogether: of the bread of the French.

"We have helped these good people: to clear some lands, as you will have learned. They have harvested this year a tolerably good quantity of Indian corn; still, not all will have enough for their maintenance, and we shall aid them, as we have aided the others, with the charitable contributions that will be sent us from France. We have had a redoubt or a kind of Fort built, to defend them against the Iroquois; it is of about the same size as the one that was among the Hurons at the place named Ahouendae. We have also had a neat Chapel built, and a little house for our own lodging. Our good Neophytes' Cabins are near us under the shelter of the Fort. The Iroquois compel us to give aid to the bodies of these poor exiles, to save their souls."

THE MISSION OF THE HOLY CROSS AT TADOUSSAC.

Tadoussac is nothing else than a bay or a great basin of water which serves as a Harbor for the French Vessels. Nature has given it a fine entrance, and has sheltered it from the winds by high rocks and lofty uplands, which surround it.

This Port is below Quebec, at a distance of about 100 miles, and is near a beautiful river, called by the French the Saguenay, which at this place empties into the great Saint Lawrence River, whose width opposite this Port is fully 25 or 30 miles. The Indians who are accustomed to take refuge in this place, when they saw that the Algonquins and Innu of the Residence of saint Joseph had received the faith, delegated some of their number, in 1640, to testify to the Governor of the country, and to our Fathers, that they were desirous of sharing the good fortune of their fellow-countrymen, and they therefore requested that Father Paul le Jeune be given them, to teach them a doctrine which they had condemned before making its acquaintance, but the beauty of which they now admired in the morals of their relatives and allies. As the Father was engaged elsewhere, and as it was desired to test their constancy, they were put off until the following year. The Captain of Tadoussac presented himself in person at Quebec, at the time that had been assigned him. His Petition being granted, the Father went to found that Mission, in May of 1641.

Ever since then, one or two Fathers have been sent there every year, without fail; and they pass the Summer on the shores of that Harbor, ministering to the French who land there, and devoting their energies to the conversion of the Indians whom they meet. Father Jean de Quen is the one who has most usually had charge of that Mission, and who has begun two others through the agency of the Neophytes of that new Church.

When that Mission was first begun, the Church and the Fathers' lodgings were nothing but a long bark cabin; but, later, a Chapel and a little room were built with timber, where the Son of God and two of his servants dwell during the stay of the French and the Indians at this Port. The order that is observed at this Mission is as follows:

When Winter begins to draw near, and all the country is making ready to change its coat of green for one of white, and the crystals are forming little by little along the rivers' edges, the Tadoussac Innu ask a thousand questions of their Fathers and their masters, from whom they are about to part for the purpose of going to make war on the Elks, Stags, Caribous, Bears, Beavers, and numerous other smaller animals, as Badgers, Porcupines, Wildcats, Hares, Squirrels, Partridges, and other species which I do not remember. As this hunting lasts all Winter long, they ask for Calendars, so they can know the days of honor and respect, that is, the holy days and Sundays, which they observe carefully.

Winter giving place to Spring makes these hunters come forth from the woods to encamp upon the banks of the great River, in the place which they regard as especially their own country. Those of whom we are speaking assemble at Tadoussac, where the Fathers having charge of that Mission go and join them. It is at this meeting that the joy felt on both sides is shown. Sometimes they come back fat, bringing home their sledges or their little canoes, laden with large packages of meat that they have smoked; at other times, when the hunt has been fruitless, they are thin and haggard, like skeletons, bringing back only their skin and bones. In any event, however, their arrival is always full of joy, especially when they come within sight of their Chapel and their Pastor. But if the sheep manifest their joy, their Shepherd would be wanting in feeling if he were not filled with consolation.

Their candor in rendering an account of their conscience, the innocence of their mode of life while engaged in hunting amid those vast forests, which were never made the haunts of the monsters of pride and ambition that ravage and set on fire all of Europe, their goodness and sincerity, are their Father's joy and glory. Some accuse themselves in public of the faults they have committed, and ask for penances for these, not daring to enter their Church until they have given satisfaction for their offenses, which often are only light, and would pass for virtues in some parts of the world. Some bring and unfold the pictures that were given them on their departure, explaining the acts of devotion they have rendered when looking at these portraits, and what recourse they have had to the Saints represented by them. Those who keep the Calendars, and are appointed to announce the festivals, come to show them and see if they have not lost their way, as they say.

Many wandering Indians died of hunger last Winter in the woods, because the snow had not fallen to a sufficient depth to stop the course of the long-legged Elks and Stags.

THE MISSION OF SAINT JOHN AMONG THE SO CALLED PORCUPINE INNUS.

LET us follow the Father who has charge of this Mission and listen to what he says about it in his memoirs. "On the lake which the Indians call Piekouagami, and which we have named Lac Saint-Jean, is situated the country of the Porcupine Innus, five or six days' journey distant from Tadoussac. To go up there, one takes a boat on the river Saguenay, and, after voyaging some time on this river, comes to two routes, one shorter, but difficult; the other longer, but a little smoother, or, to express it better, a little less rough; for, to speak accurately, these routes do not seem made for men, so forbidding are they. The cause of this difficulty arises from the fact that the river Saguenay, which is fully 160 yards deep at Tadoussac, has an uneven bed, being entirely obstructed with rocks in some places; and in others so contracted that it causes currents of such rapidity as to be impassable to those navigating it. To such an extent is this the case that one has to get out and walk at least ten times by the shorter way, and fourteen by the longer, in going from Tadoussac to Lac Saint-Jean.

"These places are called portages, as one is compelled to transport on his shoulders all the baggage, and even the boat, to go and find some other river, or make one's way around these rapids and Torrents; and it is often necessary to go on for several miles, loaded down like mules, and climbing mountains and descending into valleys, amid a thousand difficulties and a thousand fears, and among rocks or amid thickets known only to unclean animals. At last, by force of pain and labor, this Lake is found, appearing of an oval shape, and 125 miles in extent. It is swollen by ten rivers, which fill its basin and serve as high-ways to many little Nations -- which are scattered in those great forests, and come to trade with the Indians who dwell, for a part of the year, on the shores of this Lake. The lake empties its waters through four or five channels, which, after running separately 10 or 12 miles, unite to make a single river that we call the Saguenay, which comes to discharge its waters into the great Saint Lawrence River at Tadoussac.

THE MISSION OF THE GUARDIAN ANGEL IN THE COUNTRY OF THE OUMAMIWEK INNU OR BETSIAMITE INNU.

SCARCELY had Father Jean de Quen concluded his Mission at Lac Saint-Jean, when he founded the Mission of the Guardian Angel in the region called, by the Tadoussac Innu, the country of the Oumamiwek Innu. I think these are the Betsiamite Innu, or some allies of the Eskimo, who inhabit the Northern shores below the Island of Anticosti.

"I embarked in a sailboat," said he, "together with some Indians, on the twelfth of June. We descended the great river, which appears like a sea below Tadoussac, voyaging without intermission for six days; which does not indicate that the place our Indians were looking for, and which we finally found, was far from Tadoussac, as it was but 200 miles away.

"We approached a bay bordered by precipitous heights, or, rather, by lofty rocks, on which were a few of those people, looking at us from a distance, to see whether we were not enemies of theirs. It is a strange thing that men in all parts of the world are the enemies of men. They kill one another, they cut one another's throats, they slay one another in never-ending wars. Homo homini Lupus, homo homini Deus. 'Man is a God and a wolf to man.' These poor people, -- some of whom have no other riches than the Baptism which they have come to get at Tadoussac, are pursued by the Micmacs, who cross the great river to go and massacre them in the country of the wild animals, the forests of that region feeding more Moose, Bears, and Beavers than men. When they had recognized us, they came down from their high towers, which were built before the tower of Babel. After making evident, by their gestures and with their eyes, the pleasure they took in seeing us, they offered us excuses for their small number, saying that their fellow-countrymen, who had hidden in the depths of the woods, had not dared to show themselves on the banks of the great river, for fear of meeting their enemies there; but they assured us that, upon our return to visit them in the following Spring, they would come in a body to escort me, and to trade with our Indians from Tadoussac, who were coming in quest of them for this purpose."

THE MISSION OF THE ASSUMPTION IN THE COUNTRY OF THE ABENAKIS.

SOME Indians from the country of the Abenakis, coming to visit Noel Negabamat, Captain of the new Christians at the Residence of saint Joseph, commonly called the Residence of Sillery, and seeing that this man was leading an entirely new life, were charmed with the novelty of his talk and the beauty of his morals. And, having then received baptism, they returned to their own country to communicate to their countrymen the good news of the Gospel. The chief men of their country, desirous of participating in this good fortune, sent some of their number as delegates to the Father Superior of our Missions, to obtain some Missionaries of our Jesuits, who should teach them the way to Heaven (as they expressed it). They arrived at saint Joseph on the 14th of August of 1646; and after they had declared the purpose of their embassy, Father Gabriel Druillettes was granted them. They guided him to their boats on the 29th of the same month of August, in the same year 1646, to carry him to their country, where he instructed them during the entire Autumn, Winter, and Spring, when they finally carried him back to Quebec.

On the 15th of June, 1647, these good people asked that their Father should be given back to them. However, their request could not be granted. They returned as many as two and three times during the years 1648 and 1649, without being able to obtain him, as we believed that other Missionaries nearer to their country would be able to give them religious instruction. Finally, returning in 1650, they pressed so urgently to have their Archbishop, (for so they call the Father) that they bore him away on the first of September of the same year; then bringing him back in June of 1651. They gave him only two weeks's respite to gain strength in mind and body, when they conducted him again to the country of troubles, from where he returned on the 8th day of April of the past year, 1652. Among these people, who are so far removed from our customs, he had only one Frenchman for companion in his labors.

Let us follow the memoirs that have been sent me concerning his journeys.

The first day of their voyage was the first day of their troubles. Although there is no road in these great woods, or, rather, although all the woods and all the rivers of these regions are nothing but roads made for men and wild beasts, and for fishes, yet one can take the shortest or the longest way, the easiest or the most difficult, to arrive at the destination he has in view. The Boatmen and Guides conducting the Father took some new routes that they had never traveled; and we have since learned that all those who had taken them before had either died of fatigue and hunger, or had thought they were going to die. After paddling and walking for two weeks, by swollen streams and bad roads, when they thought they were approaching the country of the Abenakis, they found they had not yet accomplished a third of their journey; and to increase their misfortune, they were at the end of their supplies and provisions.

The Father prayed to the God of men and animals. As he was leaving the Altar, a valiant Christian trainee, who had plunged into these forest-depths to seek some remedy for their famine, came to offer him three Moose or Elks, which he had just killed. After one good meal, they had from it many poor ones; for they salted, after the custom of the Indians, what was left them of their feast, -- that is, this meat was smoked, or dried in smoke, for the remainder of their journey, and it constituted their sole dish. His toils call forth appetite, and appetite is the best cook in the world, everything being good, everything excellent, in such circumstances.

After this little refreshment, it was necessary to resume the paddle, and ascend against the current of the River saint John as far as its source. The shallows, stones, rocks, and portages of 12 or 15 miles that were to be encountered so discouraged a Maliseet Indian of the group that he wished to turn his back on the country of the Abenakis, to follow the current of the River, and go to Penobscot in Acadia, where this stream empties into the Ocean. When the Christian trainee represented to him the displeasure he would cause the Abenakis, who had been for so long awaiting their Archbishop, he took heart again.

Putting forth all their strength in unison, they propelled their little boat of bark against the torrent's rapid current, through a thousand dangers of wreck. But, on the third day, this poor Maliseet lost heart a second time; and although he was well aware that the Father had not led them astray or involved them in these detours, yet, regarding him as the primary cause of this undertaking, he discharged upon him, every moment, the weight of his anger, which grew sharper as their difficulties and sufferings increased. At last, to appease that persistent fellow, the Father was forced to part with his companion and abandon his little baggage, to lighten their gondola. This done, that man of ill humor took the bit in his teeth, as the saying is, -- paddling in the torrents, and making his way over the portages with the Father and his Christian trainee, without taking any rest from morning until night. The Geldings of England eat almost all night, and travel all day without being unbridled. The Indians of these regions do almost the same when they are on a journey.

The poor Father set out at daybreak, and toiled on, without eating, until nightfall; his supper was a little of that smoked meat, hard as wood, or a small fish, if he could catch one with his line; and after saying his prayers, the ground was his bed, a log his pillow. Yet he slept more sweetly than those who do nothing but dream upon feathers and down.

After 23 or 24 days of hard work, they arrived at one of the villages or towns of the Abenakis, called Nazanchouak. The Captain of the place, whose name was Oumamanradok, received them with a salute of musket shots, and, embracing the Father, exclaimed: "I see well that the great Spirit who commands in the Skies regards us with favor, since he sends us back our Archbishop." His speech was tolerably long, at the close of which he made inquiry of the Christian trainee if the Father had been in good health on the journey, and if he had been well treated. Upon learning that the Indian from the country of the Maliseets had often given him trouble, he said to him, with a grave and serious tone: "You have shown, by not paying respect to our Archbishop, that you had no sense. You would have deserted him in the middle of the journey, and you did force him to part with his companion and leave behind a small package that he was carrying with him. Were you under my authority, or one of my nation, I would make you feel the displeasure you have caused to the whole country." This poor man, instead of excusing himself, uttered his own condemnation, Indians not easily resisting the truth when they recognize it, although they do not always follow it.

"It is true," he answered before all the assembly; "I have no sense, to have treated so badly a person to whom I am under great obligations. By his prayers, he restored me to health when I had fallen ill, watching all night at my side and driving away by his prayers the Demon that wished to deprive me of life. When he saw that I was weak, he was not content with carrying his own baggage or packet in the places where we had to walk, but he also burdened himself with mine. He obtains, from him who made all things, everything that he wishes: when the water in our course was too low, he asked for rain to swell the streams, and he was immediately heard and ourselves much aided. When we were on the point of dying from hunger, he prayed for us; and he who is the master of the animals gave us meat, more than we needed for the rest of our journey. He himself did not eat of it when it was fresh, but would catch with his line, toward night, some little fish, with which he contented himself, leaving us the good pieces. When the water was not deep enough, and our Canoe was in danger of touching bottom, he would get out; to lighten us, and would walk, for six whole days, through thickets and among frightful rocks. In these toils he did not eat; but he would be found at nightfall fresher and happier than we. He is not a man; he is a Nioueskou," -- that is, a Spirit, or an extraordinary Genie; "and as for me, I am a dog to have treated him so ill. When I yelled at him, accusing him of being the cause of our ill luck, he would not say a word, or, if he spoke, one would have believed that he was guilty, and that I was right in upbraiding him, so gentle were his answers. Yes, I have no sense, but I wish to have some; I will love prayer, and will have myself instructed by the Archbishop." That is the confession of this Maliseet Indian.

"A Captain touched my heart," says the Father. "He repeated to me often, in public and in private, that he loved his children more than himself. 'I have lost two of them,' added he, 'since your departure. Their death is not my greatest grief, but you did not baptize them, that is what afflicts me. I did to them what you had requested me; but I do not know whether I did correctly, and whether I shall ever see them in Heaven. If you yourself had baptized them, I would not mourn them; on the contrary, I would be comforted. If, to banish my sadness, you were willing at least to promise us not to think of Quebec for ten years, and not to leave us during that time, you would show that you love us.' Then he conducted me to the grave of his two children, over whom he had planted two fine Crosses painted red, which he went to salute from time to time; it was within sight of the English, who live at Augusta, Maine, the place where the Cemetery of these good people is situated, because they hold two large assemblies on this spot, one in the Spring, and the other in the Autumn."

As soon as the news of the Father's return was carried to the other villages of the Abenakis, people came from all sides to invite him to instruct all the country. He visited first the 12 or 13 settlements or villages of those tribes which are ranged partly along the river Kennebec, and partly along the coast of Acadia, which the English occupy.

After the Father had made his visits, and had spent some time in cultivating the villages farther inland and at a greater distance from the English, he took with him Noel Negabamat, or Tekouerimat, Captain of the Christians of saint Joseph, to go down to new England. This valiant Neophyte was commissioned by the Algonquins of the great River, and the Father was sent as Agent, or Ambassador, by his good Abenaki Christian trainees, to ask the English for some help against the Iroquois, who were striving to exterminate those poor Abenaki peoples, as well as the Hurons and Algonquins. The Father went to Boston, to Plymouth; he journeyed over almost all new England, without prevailing on the English to put themselves to much trouble in aid of these poor nations, their neighbors.

I will say (speaking as the Indians speak) that the sufferings encountered by the Father and his companion on their way to the country of the Abenakis, were no sufferings at all; but that they met with some on their return. Both he and all those who formed his escort thought they would die with hunger and cold; some even lost their lives in the snow. The Father and his dear companion sustained life for ten whole days without eating anything, after having fasted during all of Lent. Finally they thought to boil their shoes, and afterward the Father's undershirt, which was made of Elk-skin; and when the snow had melted, they also cooked the lacings of the snowshoes which they had used to keep themselves from sinking. All this seemed to them to have a good taste.

They arrived at Quebec on the Monday after Easter, with no strength beyond what fervor for the saving of souls can impart to a skeleton. The emaciated face and exhausted body of this good Father did not deter another from setting out, with five or six Neophytes, in little bark Canoes, to go to the shores of Acadia and, by that route, find an easier approach to the tribes called Maliseets, Abenakis, Sokoki Abenakis, Micmacs, Chaouanaquiois, Mahicans, Arosaguntacook Abenakis, and numerous other Indian nations, which are settled, and have villages of a thousand or two thousand fighting men.

THE GOOD DISPOSITION SHOWN BY THE ABENAKIS TOWARD THE FAITH OF JESUS CHRIST.

When Father Gabriel Druillettes was in a village quite near the English settlements, an Englishman's servant was present one day in a cabin where the Father was instructing his Christian trainees. This man -- either from malice, or because he did not understand the language of the country well -- reported to his master afterward that the Father had spoken against the English, which was not true. These worthy Neophytes, learning that this master was offended, went to his house and addressed him as follows: "We understand our language better than your servant does. We were near the Archbishop when he was speaking; we listened attentively, and all his words came directly into our ears. Be assured, he has never said any ill of you people. He teaches us that he who made all things hates and punishes lying; and as we wish to receive his law, and render him obedience, take these thoughts to your heart, those people there do not lie. And, also, it is good for you to know that the Father is now one of our nation; and whoever attacks him, attacks all the Abenakis." The Captain who delivered this little speech uttered it so emphatically that the principal Englishmen dwelling on the river Kennebec, having heard him, had the Father come to them, and asked him -- through the mouth of an Englishman recently arrived from Boston, who spoke good French -- to forget all that had passed, assuring him that they gave no further credence to the false reports of a thoughtless servant. They added that they clearly saw that all the Indians loved him, and that the confidence which these people had in him would foster a good understanding between the French, the English, and the Indians of those regions. And then appeared bottles and cups, and the Father's health was generously drunk; and as they were from different places, each one asked the Father to pay him a visit at his settlement, assuring him that he would always be received there with honor. Indeed, whenever the Father, in his journeys on the Kennebec river, where they dwell, went to greet them, they received him with marks of goodwill; and since that time, they have always spoken of him to the Indians in complimentary terms.

The people of Norridgewock, who are at all times the most influential of this region, and have strong alliances with several nations of new England, wishing to give proofs of the love that they bore to their Archbishop and his doctrine, publicly naturalized him in a great assembly and received him into their Nation. Captain Oumamanradok, who made the speech, declared openly that the Archbishop was not only their master in the faith, but that he was also the best head in the country for speaking, and for giving decisions in their affairs; and that, although he himself had been looking at the Sun for a long time, he was still only a child, while the Archbishop was an old man, full of wisdom.

"As for the Demon of drunkenness that you had driven out of our cabins, on your first journey, the English brought it back as soon as you left us; but it must now be exterminated forever, for it deprives us of our lives, causes murders among us, and makes us lose our wits, rendering us like madmen. Let us go and find the Deputy of the English, and speak to him as follows: 'You Deputy of Plymouth and Boston, paint our words on paper, and send them to those on whom you are dependent; and say to them that all the allied Indians dwelling on the river Kennebec hate fire-water,'" or brandy, "'as much as they hate the Iroquois; and that if they have any more of it brought here to sell to the Indians, the Indians will believe that the English wish to exterminate them. Paint these words; and our Archbishop will act as our Ambassador, and will carry them to your Governors, accompanied by our chief men; and after that prohibition, if anyone gets drunk in secret, he shall be punished as our Father shall decree.'

"As to the Demon that makes us love polygamy" (they said), "he is in great discredit among us, as we see clearly the disorders which arise from multiple wives. He who claims to have been elected Captain in this village will never be Captain if he does not give up one of his two wives; and even if some person should fail to have sense, that would not prevent the rest from becoming Christians."

THE WAR WITH THE IROQUOIS.

Up to the present time, the Iroquois have done almost more good than harm in New France. They have delivered many souls from the fires of Hell, while burning their bodies in an earthly fire. For they have converted many persons, and they are the instruments which God has used for deriving the sweet from the bitter, life from death; severe indeed, but recompensed a hundredfold. When the Hurons were in affluence, and the Algonquins in prosperity, they mocked the Gospel, and tried to murder those who proclaimed it in their country, accusing them of being sorcerers, who made them lose their lives by secret means, and caused droughts and inclement weather; and regarding them as traitors, who held communication with their enemies for the purpose of selling their country. Let us say that the Iroquois have rendered men rich, thinking to make them poor. But if they have done good, they appear now like monsters ready to devour us.

On the sixth of March of last year, 1652, the Iroquois, who prowled around the French settlements all the Spring and all the Summer, defeated a Squad of Hurons who were going in search of them at a great distance, and found them near, without expecting it. They were in ambush at the river of la Magdelaine, 15 miles above Three Rivers. That Squad, commanded by a man named Toratati, fell into their hands and was entirely defeated.

On the 10th of May, Father Jacques Buteux was put to death, with a Frenchman accompanying him, named Fontarabie.

On the 13th of the same month, a band of Algonquins, on their way to the country of the Atikamekw, were surprised and defeated when they were passing the place where Father Buteux had been murdered. A young man who had killed one of the Iroquois who surprised them, was burnt and tormented in a horrible manner, on the same spot.

On the 16th of the same month, the Algonquins of Three Rivers, having learned of the defeat of their people, went out to lie in wait for the Iroquois as they passed; but they fell into the trap which they intended to set for their enemies, for another band of Iroquois -- concealed near Lake St. Pierre, where they were going to lay their ambush -- cut them into pieces, mostly.

On the same day, there arrived from Montreal a Huron soldier of Toratati's company, who had escaped from the hands of the Iroquois. He reported that this Captain had been burnt, and that those of his band that were left had been given their lives. It is how the Iroquois swell their troops.

On 15th of the same month, a Huron woman, who was working at Montreal cultivating Indian corn, was carried off by the Iroquois, with two of her children. These wretches hide in the woods, behind tree-trunks or in holes which they make in the ground, when they pass two and three days sometimes, without eating, to lie in wait and surprise their prey.

On the 21st, a French soldier and an Indian -- crossing the great River, in a Canoe, before the Fort of Three Rivers -- were attacked, and both wounded, the Indian dying of his wounds two days afterward.

On the 26th of the same month of May, a Frenchman who was tending cattle at Montreal was put to death; and a French woman received five or six wounds, not dangerous, however, since she did not die of them; her courage brought her out of the danger. These wanton Rascals abound everywhere, and at all times.

On the 8th of June, two Hurons who were stretching a line to catch some fish, near the Islands of the river called Three Rivers, were butchered. As this place is near the French settlements, some men hurried here, on hearing the noise, and pursued the Iroquois, who made their escape, leaving behind their equipage, and the scalps of the two men whom they had killed.

On the 19th of the same month, three Canoes arrived by the river of Three Rivers, bringing word that the Iroquois had made their way far into the country of the Atikamekw, and had defeated them for the third time.

On the 2nd of July, at five o'clock in the morning, when Some Hurons were going out to fish opposite the Fort of the French, on the other side of the great river, which is of considerable width at this place, the Iroquois, who were in ambush, rushed upon them; but they jumped into the sailboat of the French who had come to escort them. The Iroquois took to their Canoes and opened fire in all directions, pursuing the sailboat, which spread its sail to the wind and extricated itself from this danger. Having reached land, near the French Fort, some soldiers entered the sailboat; the Indians followed them in their Canoes, and they chased the Iroquois, pressing them hard. But as they are adroit, they halted, protecting themselves from our firearms; and seeing that the Lion's skin could not cover them, they tried to use that of the Fox. They sent a Canoe toward our people, propelled by two men, who demanded a parley; a Canoe was sent to them from our side, in charge of two Hurons and an Algonquin; and these two Canoes parleyed for about half an hour, keeping the distance of a pistol shot apart. The Iroquois said they were led by a man named Aontarisati, their Captain, and that he wished to speak to the French, and to the Indians who were their allies. They were told, in answer, to go down opposite the French Fort, and there they should receive an interview.

They went there immediately, and from that place sent two Canoes to the quarters of the French. One carried a young Huron whom they had captured, whom they put ashore at a spot a little above the Fort, to go and see his kinsfolk who were among the French; this was so he might incite them to desert the French side. The other Canoe did not approach the land, but called out from its position on the water, and asked that the three Captains -- of the French, of the Algonquins, and of the Hurons -- should cross the river to go and treat with their people; and they said that they would, on their side, send the three most prominent men of their number. This proposal was ridiculed; and meanwhile, some Canoes approaching for the purpose of corrupting our Hurons and bringing them over to their side, one of them was captured, which carried three Iroquois; two of these were Captains, who were notorious on account of the murders they had committed in all the French settlements. They were more fortunate than the rest, for our Fathers instructed and baptized them before their death.

On the 25th of the same month of July, a Squad composed of more than a hundred Indians, strongly suspecting that the enemy were scattered in various places, started out to find some of them. They had two encounters, and fought stoutly and resolutely, without our learning the degree of success on the side of the Iroquois; as for our own people, they returned on the seventh of August, having lost two men, and bringing back many wounded.

On the 18th of August, four inhabitants of Three Rivers, on going down a short distance below the settlement of the French, were pursued by the Iroquois, who killed two of them and carried off the other two, to sacrifice them to their wrath.

On the 19th, the repulse was greater. Sir Guillaume Guillemot, Governor of Three Rivers, taking with him forty or fifty Frenchmen and ten or twelve Indians, had them embark in sailboats to give chase to the enemy, to recover the prisoners and the cattle belonging to the French, which had been carried away. After sailing to about 5 miles above the Fort, he perceived the enemy in the undergrowth at the edge of the woods, and landed in a place that was full of mud and disadvantageous. Someone pointed out to him the advantage of the enemy, who had the forest for shelter. He went forward, advancing headlong; but his enthusiasm made him lose his life, as well as those of fifteen Frenchmen.

During this engagement, some Iroquois, detached from their main body, slew a poor Huron and his wife who were at work in their own field, not far from the French settlements. God showed in this disaster that it was his will to preserve us; for, if the Iroquois had followed up their advantage, as panic had been spread among our people, who had lost their Chief, they would have wrought havoc among the inhabitants of Three Rivers. But they retired, not knowing how to make use of their victory, and suffered the French to finish their harvests and garner their crops in peace, but with sorrow.

On the 23rd of the same month of August, a visit was made to the scene of the engagement, where these words were found written on an Iroquois shield: "Normanville, Francheville, Poisson, la Palme, Turgot, Chaillon, St. Germain, Oneidas and Mohawks. I have lost only a Finger-nail."

Normanville, a young man of skill and bravery who understood the Algonquin and Iroquois languages, had written these words with a piece of charcoal, wishing to convey the information that the seven persons whose names were seen, had been captured by the Iroquois known as the Oneidas and Mohawks, and that he had himself up to that time received no further injury than the tearing out of a finger-nail. I fear that these poor victims have been sacrificed to the rage and fury of those Barbarians.

On the 30th of the same month of August, the Iroquois captured another young Huron, and carried him away alive to their own country.

A letter, dated the first of November, conveys the following information: "Some Hurons have just told us that two Frenchmen have recently been killed at Three Rivers, and that two others have had their arms broken. They add that, when spending the night near the burnt Rock, they heard the Iroquois singing as they are accustomed to sing when they torture their prisoners. An Algonquin who has just come to Sillery says that yesterday, opposite Saint Croix, those same Barbarians captured an Indian and two women of his nation. A good many of our Neophytes have gone out hunting in that direction, and I fear in case they may fall into the snares of those hunters of men. Noel Tekouerimat is setting out immediately to arm the young men, who are here in considerable numbers, to avert such a disaster; but he would much like to have our Governor give him a French escort."

To crown all our calamities, we are informed that the Iroquois intend to rally together all their forces, to come and destroy us next Winter. Such is the report made by the fugitives, and the reason which they give is probable. They say that the Iroquois of the lower country, who are called Mohawks, asked aid, last year, from the Iroquois of the upper districts, who are called Senecas, so they might come to fight against the French. But the Senecas answered that they had upon their hands enemies near home; and if they would come and help destroy these, they themselves would join them later on for the purpose of destroying the French. The Mohawk Iroquois accepted the condition and sent their troops to join those of the Senecas, who, with this assistance, have destroyed the Neutral nation, which was on their borders. Consequently, they are obliged to join forces with the Iroquois called Mohawks, for the purpose of coming to make war on the French.

Some time ago, there was a request for soldiers, and for their salary; their provisions were asked for, as well as their arms and their passage. But now, when the country is yielding grain for the feeding of her people, and this is being done every day, the only thing demanded for the maintenance of these vast regions is the payment of transportation for two or three hundred workmen each year; the inhabitants of the country will feed them and pay their wages. France, who is constantly emptying herself into foreign countries, does not lack men to build up Colonies.

Let us finish this Chapter with a letter that an Indian Captain, a good Christian, sent to Father Paul le Jeune, who is laboring in old France for the salvation of the new.

"Father le Jeune: I seem to see you, when your letter is read to me; and I seem to be with you, when I speak to you by the mouth, or the pen, of Father de Quen. I do not lie; it seems only yesterday that you did baptize me. We are changing in all things, we people of this country; but I never shall change in regard to what you did teach me, and what we are now taught by him who governs us in your place. Indeed, I make hardly any further change, even in my location; I shall pass the coming Winter at Sillery, which you call St. Joseph, as I passed the last one. I am almost wholly French. I laughed when Father de Quen told me you had shown the robe that I sent you last Autumn to some Ladies of importance in your country, and that they were pleased with it. That was not because it is beautiful, but because they like what comes from us. I would have been pleased to see the robe that you are going to send me; it is said that there is gold upon it. Did you not have this thought: 'Noel will become arrogant when he uses it?' Send it next Spring; if I die this Winter, my son, when he grows up, will wear it, and he will live in the house that has been made for us at the Fort of Sillery. Make haste to come, and to bring us many sword-bearers, to drive away the Iroquois from our heads. We shall soon be departed souls; do not wait until we are in the grave before coming to see us. It is your good friend, Noel Tekouerimat, who writes to you, and who says that he will always pray for you, and for those who give us aid. Speak to the great Captain of France, and tell him that the Dutch of these coasts are causing our destruction, by furnishing firearms in abundance, and at a low price, to the Iroquois, our enemies. Tell him to give aid to those who are baptized. That is all I have to say."

A BRIEF ACCOUNT OF CERTAIN MISSIONS OF THE FATHERS OF THE JESUITS IN NEW FRANCE, BY FATHER FRANCESCO GIOSEPPE BRESSANI, LOCATION AND DISCOVERY OF NEW FRANCE.

BY New France is commonly understood the space of land and water which extends from 36 degrees of latitude, which is that of Virginia, to 52, where, nearly, begins the great River of Saint Lawrence; others locate it from 32 to 54.

It extends in longitude from 325 degrees to 295, as known to us, or, to speak more properly, without any limit toward the West. It is a part of the Mainland of North America, distant from Europe, in a direct course, about three thousand miles, as we have observed in various Eclipses; situated, as is seen, in one of the temperate Zones, but partaking of the quality of the two extremes, having severe cold in Winter, deep snows, and hard ice; and in Summer, no less heat than that of Italy.

The first French who lived there believed that the cause of such excessive cold (which for nearly four months renders it impossible to write, unless one use his pen close to the fire, to such a degree does every liquid freeze) was the endlessly vast woods which cover the whole country. But I believe that if the woods, dry and leafless as they are in Winter, could hinder the Sun from warming the earth and moderating the excessive cold, they would help still more in keeping off the heat in Summer, when they are dense; and yet they do not, the heat in the woods themselves being then intense, although some nights it freezes as in Winter.

I think, therefore, that the true reason is the dryness. I do not dispute whether the cold of New France is more intense than that of Countries which are under the same latitude; certainly it is more acute, and accompanied with much snow and ice, which keep the rivers frozen five and six entire months. But all this may be an effect of the dryness, which is necessary for the snows and ice, it being a well-founded opinion that even intense cold is not sufficient to make ice; otherwise, water -- which naturally never freezes except under the greatest cold, as many will have it, or at least under a highly intense cold, as no one denies -- would in its natural state be frozen, contrary to its destined use, which is to serve for washing, and as a drink for men and animals. But, because cold alone, although intense, is not sufficient without either some little body, or exhalation, or dry quality, therefore water, even in its natural state, would be fluid; and where dryness prevails, although the cold is not greater than elsewhere, it contracts or expands itself into snow and into ice. Besides, the dryness of these countries is evident, first, because most of the lands are either stony or sandy (but not, on that account, sterile), from where the Sun cannot derive other than dry exhalations; and the maritime countries, as being more moist, have less snow, and it melts more quickly.

Secondly, from experience, through the scarcity of rains, and by the healthiness of the air, so great that, in sixteen and more years during which the Huron Mission has lasted, where, during the same time, we have been as many as sixty Europeans, among whom were many of feeble constitution, -- no one has died a natural death here, despite the great inconveniences and sufferings; while in Europe those years are few when someone does not die in our Colleges, if their residents are at all numerous. On this account, besides the change of diet, the Indians find it difficult to accustom themselves to the air of Europe.

For the cold we might add: First, that the land lies higher than ours, and consequently nearer to the second region of the air, of whose cold it partakes in a greater degree. And this is proved by the greater depth of the Sea, which is consequently more dangerous to the ships that have to land. Secondly, by the many river cascades, which if placed together would form a fairly high mountain; which, however, forming itself by gradations, is not so perceptible. Thirdly, by the cold winds blowing from the neighboring mountains, which traverse the whole country as the Apennines traverse Italy; these winds more frequently blow from cold and dry countries, corresponding to our northwest winds, and to the Southwest wind which in those countries is cold, clear, and healthful, the rains proceeding from the Northeast wind, which comes from the sea. The country is full of great rivers and immense lakes; but this does not detract from its dryness, these rivers and lakes being of pure and wholesome water; secondly, the bottom is of rock or sand; thirdly, they are in continual motion through the flow and ebb of the tide, whose action extends five hundred miles inland, and, finally, through the winds, which agitate them like the Sea, and restrain the action of the Sun which otherwise would draw from them a greater abundance of vapors. This last is the reason why it does not continually rain on the sea, whose water, on the other hand, is warmer, of greater volume, and more open to receive the influence of the Sun. Someone might add to this the nearness or contiguity of the Seas of Canada to the icy sea, from which, or at least from whose shores, are detached whole mountains of ice, which, in June and July, are encountered even in the gulf of Saint Lawrence. I have repeatedly seen them as great as entire Cities; and Pilots worthy of credence say that they have seen some, along which they have coasted for 200 miles and over.

But it is unlikely that these masses of ice, immense though they are, have any effect at so great a distance as ours, since we dwell between the 47th and the 44th degrees of latitude, 900 miles or more from the sea. Some have supposed that these countries were, in former times, discovered by the Spaniards, from whom they got the name of Canada, as if they meant to say ha nada, there being almost nothing but woods. But this region was taken possession of for the first time by the French in 1504; and from them it received the name of New France, without losing that of Canada which some have wished to apply to the more Northern part.

They made several voyages there, as in the years 1508, 1523, 1524, 1534, 1608, and 1625; and these were frequently interrupted, as Champlain has written at some length, until the year 1629, when a Fort which the French had on the great Saint Lawrence River, more than four hundred miles away from the sea, was captured by the English. On occasion of the peace which was made between these nations, the French were restored to the amicable possession of the territory, in which they have continued until now, without any limit toward the West and the North; while the shores of the sea which are toward the south and East are occupied partly by the French, partly by the English, who are there in great numbers, in part by the Dutch, and in part by Swedes.

At the same time when the French were compelled by hunger to surrender, those of our Jesuits, who had gone there three or four years previously, also some Franciscans Fathers, who had passed over there ten years earlier, were brought back to England by the same English, and from there to France; but, at the return of the French, ours returned alone, to lay foundations for the conversion of the Indians inhabiting those countries. They instituted two Missions, one for the nations which they call Algonquin and Innu, peoples somewhat related in language but wandering and roving in the woods; the other, for the Hurons, tribes of a different language, and settled in one region.

1. Tadoussac is the first port, which is usually set down as being about three hundred miles up the Saint Lawrence River. It is deserted except at the arrival of the ships; and then a Mission is held there, and the wandering Barbarians -- who assemble there from various countries, at a distance of 300 miles, and over -- are instructed for the space of two or three months.

2. Quebec is 120 miles further inland, and is a Fortress of the French, which commands the same river, on whose bank it is constructed upon a mountain, at the narrowest point on this river, which is here about a mile wide. There is a French Colony there, and, quite recently, a Huron one; and the Indians called Algonquins spend several months of the Year there before going to their hunt.

3. Four miles away from Quebec, on the shores of the same river, there is a Residence of the Jesuits, called Saint Joseph, where the Algonquin Christians spend half of the Year, with some French families: it is otherwise called Sillery, from the founder, who was Sir de Sillery.

4. Ninety miles beyond, still up stream, there flows into this King of rivers, -- which at its mouth is 60 miles in width, and here more than a mile and a half, with both flow and ebb of the tide, although more than 400 miles away from the sea, there flows into it a tributary which we call Three Rivers, because it issues as if from three mouths, due to two Islands, which divide it into three streams. At that place is the second fort of the French on the Saint Lawrence River, and a second Colony of theirs, and, during a certain time of the Year, of Algonquin Indians.

5. Then, ten miles further, still up stream, is the lake called St. Pierre, 24 miles in length and 10 or 12 miles in width, famous through the incursions of the Iroquois. A river prolongs it; and 6 miles beyond, at the mouth of this river (which is named after the Iroquois, because it comes from their lake), was the fort of Richelieu.

6. Fifty miles beyond is the great Island of Montreal, 180 miles away from Quebec, which was formerly thickly inhabited by Barbarians, while now they are few. There is a fort of the French, with some families, who are founding a third Colony. This Island is about a hundred miles in circumference; and there the two branches unite which form our great river. And let this be sufficient. for the understanding of what we shall say in this history.

DESCRIPTION OF THE COUNTRY OF THE HURONS.

THE Country of the Hurons is a part of New France, which is between the 44th and 45th degrees of latitude, and in longitude about three-quarters of an hour farther toward the West than Quebec, but more than six whole hours from Rome.

In the direction of the summer Sunset, it has a lake of about 1200 miles in circumference, which we call "the freshwater sea," (Lake Huron) where the flow and ebb of tides can be observed, a rare thing away from the sea. It has innumerable Islands, and one 200 miles in circumference, inhabited by some Indians, whom they call Ottawas. At the West, along the shores of this lake, was the nation which we called "Tobacco," because this plant was produced there in abundance; this nation was not distant from us more than 35 or 40 miles. Southward, a little toward the West, came the neutral nation, whose first villages were not more than 100 miles away from the Hurons; the territory of this nation extended through the space of 150 miles. Therefore, moving from the neutral nation a little toward the East, one reached new Sweden, where also dwell the Susquehannocks, who are allied to our Hurons, and speak a language not different from theirs, distant from us, in a direct route, about 500 miles. Beyond that same neutral nation, in a direction nearly South, there is a lake 600 miles in circumference, called Lake Erie, formed by the freshwater sea (Lake Huron), which discharges into it, and from there, by means of a high waterfall, into a third lake, still greater and more beautiful; it is called Lake Ontario, or Beautiful lake, but we were accustomed to call it the lake of St. Louys.

Lake Erie was at one time inhabited toward the South by certain peoples whom we call the Eries; but they were forced to proceed farther Inland, to escape the enemies whom they have toward the West. This nation has various Territories, cultivates the fields, and speaks a language similar to the Huron.

The second lake, Lake Ontario, -- distant from the Hurons, in a straight course, about 100 miles -- is nearly 250 miles in length, extending from the East to the West, and about 50 in width, from the South to the North. It discharges into a great river, which makes an arm of the one which we call Saint Lawrence. A little Inland from Lake Ontario reside the five Iroquois nations, enemies to our Hurons, in a location almost parallel to the length of that lake. North of the Hurons are many Algonquin nations, who do not cultivate the earth, but live exclusively by hunting and fishing, and go even to the so-called Northern sea, from which we estimated ourselves distant about 1,000 miles, in a straight line.

Our Indians traded with them every year in Beaver skins, of which they have an enormous abundance. The other nations known to us, which inhabit that lake, are also Algonquin, and cultivate the soil, although very little. They are at least as many as nine, one of them being the Ojibwes, more than 300 miles away from us, through which we hoped for a passage to reach other nations farther on, who dwell along a lake larger than the freshwater sea (Lake Huron), which takes its origin from there, and extends between the West and the north. A Peninsula, or Strip of land, divides this lake from the one which is called "lake of the Stinkards" (Green Bay), people so named (Winnebagos) due to having formerly inhabited the shores of the sea, which they call Stinking water, and who have a language altogether unknown to us.

Under the name of "Mission of the Hurons," we comprehended all these vast countries; and our plan was never to stop in the seeking out of new Peoples, had not the inscrutable judgments of God otherwise disposed.

THE SOIL, FOOD, DRESS, AND CHARACTER OF THE INDIANS OF NEW FRANCE.

The country is poor, but not sterile; when cultivated, it gives back with great abundance what it receives. It has many species of Trees which we do not have here; and among others, many cedars similar to those of Lebanon, many plants unknown to us, animals and birds different from ours. Among these last is one which mews like a cat and sings like a bird, which it is; and another, dainty, which for its diminutive size is called humming-bird. There is a hare which sings, and is more palatable than ours; and a small animal which, when pursued, defends itself with a stench which is insufferable and continues long, the French therefore have called it "son of the Devil" (skunk). They have also flying Squirrels, but without wings; and many other animals of greater size, such as Elks or Great Beasts, Cows, and wild Asses, as will be seen in the history.

Even the domestic dogs are different from ours. Nature, on account of the great cold of the Winter, clothes them, including ours which are born in the country, such as dogs, swine, etc., with double fur; inner and outer; the former of which is thick and soft. The Hares, as in the Alps, change their color in winter, being white like the snow in which they live -- while, in summer, they resume the color of ours.

The earth contains iron ores, and certain rocks which melt like metal, with an appearance of having some vein of silver. There is a Copper ore, which is pure, and which has no need of passing through the fire; but it is in places far distant and hard to reach, which render its transportation almost impossible. We have seen it in the hands of the Indians, but no one has visited the place.

Besides the Pumpkins, which last for two months, and are good baked under the ashes, there are no other fruits but wild ones. The best are the strawberries, of two sorts; the blackberries, which grow on briars; the hazelnuts, and certain haws, and the wild plum. The walnuts have scarcely anything but the shell, and the cherries are no larger than a pea, being little else than stone and skin, and sour. There are some wild vines, but in small quantity, nor are they esteemed by the Indians themselves; but they do esteem highly a certain fruit of violet color, the size of a juniper berry which I have never seen in these countries. I have also seen, once, a plant similar to the Melon of India, with fruit the size of a small lime. There is also, in a certain place, abundance of garlic and chives; and elsewhere there are found some roots of fairly good savor, which serve -- as also do acorns -- in time of hunger.

The Inhabitants reflect the poverty of the Soil, in their food, dress, dwellings, sleeping accommodations, and manner of travel. The roving Indians, before knowing the French, lived solely by hunting or fishing, and, through necessity, fasted more than half the year -- having no notion of Economy, and frequently lacking the means of preserving game or fish a long time, when these abounded, as they had no salt; while the smoke which they used in place of salt, was not adequate for preserving provisions a long time; from where they frequently died of hunger, or sometimes inflicted death out of pity. But, since they have had commerce with the French, those who are situated near the sea have, by the exchange of their Beaver skins, provisions for some part of the Year.

But the Hurons and other Peoples distant from the sea, who are settled, hunt only for pleasure, or on extraordinary occasions; yet they have neither bread, nor wine, nor salt, nor meat, nor vegetables, nor any other food usual in Europe. They content themselves with corn cooked in pure water, or seasoned, when possible, with some fish or meat, fresh or smoked, without any use of salt or other condiment; and with this grain are sown the fields which they cultivate. After our arrival, they also planted there beans, both large and small.

The men's clothing is light, but -- excepting a certain nation made up of a few Algonquins -- all cover at least what decency demands; but the women are much more covered, the Huron women, even in the house, at least from the waist to the knee; the Algonquin women, more than the most religious women in Europe. These garments are commonly of skins of various kinds of animals, sewed together, in size, five feet square; and they serve as cover at night. They make of the same skins, in rather crude fashion, both sleeves and stockings for Winter. One of our blankets would serve to clothe by day and cover by night two Barbarians, during a whole winter.

The somewhat long and dangerous navigation which they conduct, on rivers and enormous lakes, with distant nations for the beaver trade, is accomplished in little boats of bark, no thicker than a coin, holding at the most 8 or 10 persons, but commonly not more than three or four; they maneuver these dexterously, and almost without danger.

For houses, both the Algonquins and the Hurons have only cabins; but the Algonquins make them of bark, light as parchment, which they stretch now here, now there, according to need, over certain poles which form the skeleton of the cabin. The Hurons build enclosed towns, or fortified strongholds, with crossed stakes, traversed with trunks of trees, to protect themselves from attacks of enemies; and make their cabins 20, 30, 40, 60, or 80 yards in length, of great pieces of bark supported by beams, which serve to hold up their corn, to dry it in winter. But neither of them have any other bed than either some branches of trees, used by the Algonquins, or some bark or matting, used by the Hurons, without tables, benches, or anything of the kind, the earth or some bark serving them for every purpose. And this was the living and lodging of our Jesuits in those missions, which were thought by many to be more arduous than any other missions of our Jesuits.

But, in this almost unexampled poverty, there are still among them both poor and rich, noble and plebeian; and they have their ornaments, especially the women, for the public feasts and ceremonies of games, dances, and feasts, which have little more than the name in common with those of Europe. Their customs are different from ours, both in peace and in war, both in public and in private; they do not uncover their heads in making salutation, having been always uncovered before knowing the French. But silence and obedience of the young men toward the elders, serve as marks of respect; and for usual salutation, they content themselves with a "good day," which in their language is expressed by saying Quoe.

The women wear their hair in a single braid, which falls behind their shoulders; the men, in various ways. Some shave half of the head; others, all, leaving only some tufts of hair; others allow the hair to grow long, and this is the most common: others leave it, in the middle, or on the forehead, straight as bristles. From this, the first Frenchmen gave our Indians the name of Hurons, because of the hure, that is, because of the straight locks, like bristles of a wild boar, which they wore on the middle of the head, as this is what hure means in French. They all commonly have black hair and hate curls -- something exceedingly rare among them, if they are found at all.

They paint their faces in various styles, and on several occasions; and many, their whole bodies, some superficially and temporarily, others permanently. The former paint themselves, now black, now red, now various colors: some appear artistically bearded; others seem to wear spectacles; some have the whole face striped with various colors; others, only half, but all, shining with oil or grease, which they mix in their colors. Black they commonly take from the bottom of the pots; the other colors are of various earths, as lake, or are derived from certain roots, which yield a fine scarlet color: and they paint themselves so well that some, at first sight, have supposed certain Indians to be clothed, who were perfectly naked, their clothes consisting only of paint.

But those who paint themselves permanently do so with extreme pain, using, for this purpose, needles, sharp awls, or piercing thorns, with which they perforate, or have others perforate, the skin. Thus they form on the face, the neck, the breast, or some other part of the body, some animal or monster, for instance, an Eagle, a Serpent, a Dragon, or any other figure which they prefer; and then, tracing over the fresh and bloody plan some powdered charcoal, or other black coloring matter, which becomes mixed with the blood and penetrates within these perforations, they imprint indelibly upon the living skin the designed figures. And this in some nations is so common that in the one which we called the Petun, and in what -- on account of enjoying peace with the Hurons and with the Iroquois -- was called Neutral, I do not know whether a single individual was found, who was not painted in this manner, on some part of the body. And indeed, when the painting covers a great part of the body, it is dangerous, especially in cold weather; and -- either through some sort of convulsion, or for some other reason -- it has caused the death of more than one, making him a martyr to vanity, in the fulfillment of which they commonly give no sign of pain, although they experience it most acutely.

The reasons which they have for painting themselves, especially for a temporary purpose, are certainly not barbarous. This Painting serves them in winter as a mask against the cold and the ice; in war, it prevents their faces from betraying them by revealing inward fear, makes them more terrible to the enemy, and conceals extremes of youth or age, which might inspire strength and courage in the adversary. It serves as adornment at the public feasts and assemblies. They also paint the prisoners destined to the flames, as victims consecrated to the God of war, and adorn them as the ancients adorned theirs. They do the same also to their dead, for the same reasons for which we adorn ours.

As painting themselves is peculiar to the men, so it is the custom of men, and not of the women, to wear, even in war, little mirrors about their necks, or in the small pouches in which they carry the Tobacco which they smoke perpetually, at the assemblies, and everywhere.

They use hot baths, but in a Barbarous manner; they enclose large stones, red-hot, in a little cabin, where 15 or 20 persons come together, seated like Apes, who touch one another closely, and remain there during whole hours, working themselves, while singing violently, into an excessive perspiration; and on issuing from there, even at the beginning of winter, they plunge into some half-frozen lake or river, from which, inexplicable though it seem, they return without distress. They do this from superstition, for cleanliness, for health, and for pleasure; it is how they refresh and invigorate themselves in the midst of long journeys, and remove fatigue upon returning.

At their feasts, where they assemble by the hundred, all the dishes are announced, one by one; and at each the answer is made in a loud and strong voice, with this expression of thanks: "oh, oh," -- uttered with an H, which the Italians would pronounce with difficulty. There is singing for whole hours before eating. One sings, and all respond in a strong voice, from the chest, in measured time: "oh, oh." But they succeed one another in the song; and he who has taken some wild beast, or who makes the feast, does not eat of it, but either sings or talks while the others partake of that. Before knowing the Europeans, as they had no kettles for cooking victuals, especially on their journeys, they made a ditch in the earth, and filled it with water, which they caused to boil by cooling in it a number of stones, first heated red-hot for this purpose. They have not such a variety of dances as we have, but these are more grave than ours, which they praise for dexterity, but regard them as too frivolous for men. This fault cannot be accused of them; since, even as young men, they accustom themselves to perhaps a too serious maturity.

Their Marriages are similar to those of the ancient Jews: the brother quite commonly taking the deceased brother's wife, never contracting marriage with blood-relatives, however distant, but always preferring any other connection. The man endows the woman, who bears the whole burden of the house, cultivates the fields, cuts and carries the firewood, does the cooking, and loads herself, on the journeys, with provisions, etc., for the husband. The part of the men is only war, hunting, fishing, trade, in various countries, and the preparation of the things necessary for that; as offensive and defensive weapons, boats, oars, and snowshoes For going over the snows; and in these industries everyone succeeds so well that the Europeans themselves would not know a better way of devising the things necessary to them for journeys, for lodging in the woods, and for navigation. So, they are hardly Barbarians, save in name.

There is no occasion to think of them as half beasts, shaggy, black, and hideous. They are without a beard, or other hair than that of the head, like the Indians of the torrid Zone, perhaps because the two extremes of heat and cold produce the same effects: therefore animals accomplish digestion both by the action of cold and by natural heat. I have tested this in the cod, a greedy fish, which digests almost everything; I have opened it, while still alive, and found the cold of its stomach almost unendurable to my hand. And, if the cold of Europe does not have the same effect in the more northern countries, it is perhaps because of the many palliatives of cold, such as wines, brandy, spices, salt, stoves, etc., which they employ, all of which things our Indians do not even know the name. They are not dark, especially in their youth; they are strong, tall in stature, and well-proportioned: more healthy than we, not even knowing the name of many diseases common in Europe, such as the stone, gout, rupture, etc. They are not found either hunchbacked or dwarfed, or corpulent, or with goiters, etc. They are affable to one another, exchange visits frequently, and like to be regarded as liberal and disinterested.

They are certainly worthy of particular admiration in four things:

First, their senses, which are most perfect, so that, although they spend nearly six months without seeing anything but snow outside, and in their cabins, nothing but smoke, they have exceedingly acute vision, excellent hearing, an ear for music, and a rare sense of smell, differing from ours only in this, that they think musk ill-smelling, and are indifferent to the odors of things which are not edible. With this sense they frequently discover fire long before seeing it, especially at night. Their touch and skin are delicate, their sensibility being perhaps increased by the ointments commonly used among them. They anoint, when they have the means, the whole body, and especially the hair, for various and most excellent reasons.

Secondly, they have an admirable courage in hardships: they endure hunger for ten or fifteen days, sometimes from superstition, mostly by necessity; fire they endure without crying out. The youth accustom themselves to this from the age of ten or twelve years, two of them binding their arms together, and then putting a coal between the two arms, to see who will shake it off the first; they despise him who loses. They endure cold, heat, pains, or diseases, without complaining; and while, among physical pains, the sacred scripture esteems those of child-birth the greatest, the women, to set an example of courage, bring forth without giving any sign of pain; for, if they cried out, they would be despised and deemed cowardly', and could not again find husbands.

Thirdly, they possess a marvelous faculty for remembering places, and for describing them to one another, and for guiding themselves in the woods where they hardly ever lose their way. I have several times tried, in cloudy weather, or by night, to lead some Barbarian astray, using the compass, in the attempt to confuse his notions of the four quarters of the World, and then questioning him where was the East, where the south, where the country of the enemy, where our own; yet I have never found that they were deceived, for they guided themselves just as securely by their senses as I by my compass. Indeed, this is a talent in a manner natural, which even the youths and the women use on occasion, and particularly, to flee when they are prisoners in the hands of the enemy, and to travel three or 400 miles in the woods, where there is no road, to take refuge in our settlements: the proof of this we see many times every year.

Fourthly, a tenacious memory. They have neither books nor writings; negotiations are carried on through embassies, in which I have been amazed to see how many things and how many circumstances they recollect. But this faculty shines forth still more in the Captains, who use little sticks instead of books, which they sometimes mark with certain signs, sometimes not. By the aid of these they can repeat the names of a hundred or more presents, the decisions adopted in the councils, and a thousand other details, which we could not rehearse without writing.

They have a clever understanding and good judgment, also an excellent style of narration, and great eloquence; and matters, of which they possess the fundamental elements, they handle just as well as the most sagacious Europeans.

In France, people have believed that their speeches and addresses, which we wrote in our reports, were fictitious; but most of these, when translated into another language, are much less powerful than in their own.

They have often persuaded us in affairs of importance, and made us change the resolutions which, after mature deliberation we had taken for the well-being of the country. They are capable of the sciences: they have a harmonious and excellent ear for music; but their music is different from, and in some degree more martial, than ours. It is not taught as an art, but, as the most expert declare, is admired as a natural accomplishment with many.

GOVERNMENT OF THE CANADIAN INDIANS

I DO not speak of all the nations of these countries, nor of all that concerns their government. Their government is admirable in that, being different from ours, it is still quite as effective as our own, and even more so, since there appear, amid conditions of extreme liberty, few disorders. I speak only of the nations which we know, and particularly of the Hurons.

These peoples have neither King nor absolute Prince, but certain chiefs, like the heads of a Republic whom we call Captains, different, however, from those in war. These hold office commonly by succession on the side of the women, sometimes by election. They assume office at the death of a predecessor (who, they say, is resuscitated in them). This is celebrated with certain ceremonies.

These Captains have not coercive force, which even fathers do not exercise over their sons to correct them, as they use words alone; and therefore brought up, the more the sons increase in age, the more they love and respect their fathers. Therefore both the fathers and the sons obtain everything by eloquence, urging, and requests; and as rude though they were before our arrival, they were still acquainted with both vice and virtue; and although free and undisciplined to the last degree, we soon wrought some improvement.

Certain virtues were so common among them that they were not esteemed as such: for instance, a hospitality so great that they received every newcomer, never driving him from the hut, but serving him and giving him whatever he needed just as to the most intimate members of the household, without asking any pay for it. They also show an invincible patience in trials; a courage in receiving unmoved the most bitter news, as that of death; an imperturbable tranquility when wronged by fellow-countrymen, even when they suffer personal loss; and a certain external seemliness in their behavior, which prevents a thousand levities that are quite common among European youth, especially when both sexes mingle without any external restraint.

But with these apparent virtues, they have genuine vices, within and without. To internal pride I attribute the saying of a Captain, who, being wounded by a young man, and seeing his people aroused to take vengeance for it, checked them by saying: "Enough; did you not feel the earth shake with horror at that audacity". This causes them stoically to conceal their passions, especially that of resentment; and it is a great reproach to say to one who begins to grow angry, "So you are getting angry."

Among the external vices, one of the most common was theft, they always priding themselves on their great skill, when able to accomplish it without being discovered. They used to steal with both their hands and their feet, in the presence and in the absence of the owner, not for actual utility, but from pure vice. They have sometimes stolen implements of various trades, wholly useless to them, the hands of clocks, etc.; and once, when one of our Fathers was saying prayers by the light of a hole in the cabin, they took through that hole the prayer book from his hands, without his being able to see or to catch the thief. I found one of them who was stealing the door of a chapel of ours. But theft is punished, the penalty being that he who is convicted of it may be plundered, he and all his house; and this is carried out in such a way that a man who may have stolen an axe, for instance, or a similar trifle, loses, if he is found guilty, all his goods, axes, kettles, clothes, provisions, nets, canoe, etc., until, if the prosecutor use rigor, he, his wife, and his children are left in a total destitution of everything.

To avoid strife in this matter, they have established, first, that if a thing, lost or dropped, even though it should be but three paces away, be taken by anyone, this is not theft, that it is so only when an object is taken from the cabins or huts; secondly, that the one from whom anything has been stolen, on recognizing it in the hands of another (in which they are wonderful in distinguishing, I do not know how), must not suddenly seize it, but must question him, for instance, "Who gave you that javelin?" If the other make no answer, he is deemed convicted of theft; if he say that he has received it as a gift, or bought it from someone, he must tell the name of him who gave or sold it to him. Then the other goes to find the seller, and puts the same question to him; and if this one name to him another, he goes to find him, and continues the investigation until he finds one who has it from nobody. In this, and in similar things, they display great sincerity, never naming an innocent man; while the guilty one, through his silence, confesses himself the culprit.

A case in point was brought before us. A poor woman, who had no other wealth than a collar of certain beads made of sea-shells, which the French have called wampum, and which are the money and the pearls of the country, for fear in case, while cultivating her field, it might be stolen from the cabin, carried it with her in a pouch, which, so she might not be hindered in her work, she attached to the trunk of a tree, intending to get it again upon going away. A neighbor of hers, who was at work in another field, saw it, and suspecting that the good woman would forget it, she never lost sight of it. The old woman, after a while, leaves her field to go to another, nearby; and the neighbor, who waited only for this, takes the pouch before her eyes, and exclaims, after the manner of the country, "I have made a good find!" and goes away. The uncertainty is whether this woman can legitimately keep it, or whether the other has the right to dispossess her. The intentions are obscure: for who knows whether the owner intended to return, as she said, into the field? If she did not, the pouch, according to the accepted usage of the country, is accounted as abandoned. We referred the matter to the Captains, of whose prudence we took note: "If the matter is considered with strictness," they answered, "the prize is good, at least the old woman has not the right to dispossess the other woman; but the other woman, unless she wishes to be thought unmannerly, litigious, and avaricious, should give back the pouch, and content herself with some civility or gratuity, which the other owes her."

The policy which they observe for preventing murders, which are rare, is worthy to be reported here, and it will be seen in a case which occurred on the 28th of April, 1648. A Frenchman, who from devotion served us there for nothing, was killed by the Hurons. He was a young man of 22 years, called Jacques Douart. He was met by two assassins who were seeking one of us, with the intention of killing the first whom they should find alone.

The order for this had been given by six Captains, from three Villages, who were hostile to the faith, and who intended to hinder the good understanding between us and our Christians, to terrify us all, and to compel us to abandon the country, and to prevent the preaching of the Gospel. They killed him with a hatchet-blow, toward Sunset; and on the following morning, our Christians, having received the report of it, came from the neighboring districts to tell us that this crime was a sure sign of certain plots against us: "But here we are," they added, "ready to die for the defense of our Fathers and of the faith."

The whole country became aroused: so the leaders of the nation assembled in a general council at which the authors of the murder, showing themselves to be enemies of the faith, said not only that it was necessary to make no account of what had happened, but further, that the gates of their villages should be shut in our faces, and that we must be driven out of the country. Others added that all the Christians should be sent into exile, and their number kept from increasing. But the fervor of some good neophytes shone forth brightly: some said that they would gladly have abandoned their relatives, whom they tenderly loved, and their native land, sooner than do wrong to their faith.

It would be attempting the impossible to proceed with the Indians according to the judicial usage of nearly all nations, by condemning the murderer to death: it is the public that gives satisfaction for the crimes of the individual, whether the culprit be known or not. And so, the crime alone is punished, and not the criminal; and this, which elsewhere would appear an injustice, is among them a most effective means for preventing the spread of similar disorders.

Having decided to make satisfaction to us, they called us to a general council which they had convened; at which an old Captain, in the name of them all, began to speak to the Superior of the Mission in this way: "Brother" (these are almost his own words), "you see here all the nations assembled together to make satisfaction to you," -- he named them all, one by one; "we are no more than a handful of people; you alone sustain this poor country, and bear it in your hands. A thunderbolt has struck it, and rent it in two; it has opened a chasm before us, in which, if you abandon us, we shall surely be swallowed up. Have pity on us, who are here to lament your loss, and ours, rather than to speak. This country is only a skeleton without flesh, without veins, without sinews, without arteries -- we are like dry bones, bound together with a delicate thread. The blow dealt upon the head of your nephew, whom we mourn, has broken that bond; it was the Demon who put the axe in the hand of the assassin. Was it perhaps you, O Sun, who did lead him to commit so wretched a crime: Why did you not darken your light, so he himself might be horrified at his own audacity? Were you his accomplice? No, since he was walking in the darkness, and did not know where he went. The unhappy man thought to strike directly upon the head of a young Frenchman, and struck his own country with a mortal wound; the earth opened to receive the blood of the innocent, and has made a chasm to engulf us all, now that we are all guilty. Our enemies will rejoice in this death, and will celebrate a glorious triumph, on seeing that our arms destroy ourselves, and deal such telling blows in their favor."

He continued in this strain a long time, and then added: "Brother, have pity on this country; you alone can give life to it. To you it pertains to gather together these scattered bones; you must close the mouth of this chasm which stands ready to engulf us; have pity on your country, which we call your, because we make you the master of it. We are here like criminals, to receive condemnation, if you choose to treat us without mercy; have pity on those who come humbly to ask your pardon. You have given stability to this country by establishing your dwelling here; if you go away, we shall be like uprooted straws, which serve only as sport for the winds. This Land is an unstable Island, and is likely to be submerged in the first storm; do you establish it, and posterity will praise you, and hold your act in perpetual remembrance. At the first news of this death, we forsook everything; and we bring with us nothing but tears and repentance, ready to execute, by way of reparation for the crime perpetrated, whatever you will command us. Speak, therefore; what will you have? Yours are our lives, and, much more, our goods; we will gladly plunder ourselves of them to satisfy you; we will plunder our children, to content you; nor will we accuse you here, but only him who involved us in guilt. Against him shall we direct our resentment, and for you we shall never have anything but love and veneration."

In answer, we gave him a parcel of small sticks, a little longer and thicker than matches, which indicated the number of presents that we required by way of satisfaction for the murder. Our Christians had informed us of all their customs, and urged us to observe them exactly, unless we would arouse prejudice not only against ourselves, but also against the faith. The Captains divided the sticks among them, so that every nation should contribute toward the presents which we asked. For this purpose everyone went to his own village. No individual is required to make this contribution, but they vie with one another, according as they are more or less rich, in sharing these public burdens, to show their devotion to the common good. A day was therefore set for the return, to perform the ceremony with all the solemnity of the country. This was the 11th of May.

On the eve of this event, 4 Captains were delegated by the general council to confer with us; two were Christians, and two infidels. They presented themselves at the door; but as there is no speaking on these occasions without gifts, they made the first one at the entrance: which was so the door might be opened to them. They made a second, so they might be permitted to enter; and as many doors as they had to pass, so many gifts we might have required of them. When they had entered, they began to speak, offering us a present which they call "the drying of tears," so we might no longer regard them with clouded eyes.

The second they call a medicinal potion for restoring our voice to us, which we had lost, and for causing it to sound more softly in the future. The third, to appease the mind agitated by thoughts of grief. The fourth, to soothe the heart, justly provoked. These gifts are mostly of those beads of marine shells which the French have called wampum, and similar trifles, utterly valueless in Europe, but much esteemed in those countries.

They added to these, nine other gifts, to erect a sepulcher to the deceased, everyone with its own peculiar name; four were for the columns which were to support the sepulcher, and four for the four stretchers which form the coffin of the dead; the ninth, to serve him as a pillow. Afterward, eight Captains of the eight Huron nations brought each a present for the eight principal bones of the human body; those of the feet, legs, arms, etc. And here their custom obliged us to speak, that is, to make a present of 3000 of those beads, to put the ruined country on its feet again, and strengthen it so that it could bear the reproaches which we might make against it for the crime perpetrated.

The following morning, in the presence of a great multitude assembled from every direction, they made a sort of stage in a public square, where they suspended 50 gifts, which form the principal satisfaction: the remainder, already referred to, being only a sort of accessory. For a Huron slain by another Huron, they usually content themselves with 30 presents. For a woman, they ask 40. This is partly because they cannot defend themselves like the men, partly because they people the countries, on which account their lives should be more precious to the public, and their weakness should have greater support from justice. For an alien they ask more; because otherwise, they say, murders would be continuous, trade would be ruined, and war would easily occur with foreign nations. The ceremony is not yet finished.

The body for which the sepulcher was built must not repose there naked; it is necessary to clothe it as it was in life. Accordingly, they made three presents, for a shirt, a doublet, trousers, etc., and for a musket with gunpowder and balls, which the deceased had; and to withdraw from the wound the deadly hatchet, they added a further present. As many blows as the dead has received, so many gifts they would have been obliged to make, to heal the wounds.

To that they added three more presents: the first, to close the earth, which had opened itself; the second, to make it solid, and here all began, according to their custom, to dance in token of gladness; the third, to prevent, with a great stone (as they say), that chasm from ever opening again. There were also seven others: the first, to restore speech to the missionaries; the second, to urge our servants not to turn their arms against the murderer, but against their enemies; the third, to rekindle the fire which we kept always lighted for the convenience of travelers; the fourth, to open again the door of the Hospice for our Christians, whom we frequently lodged; the fifth, to put back in the water the boat which we used for conveying them across the river when they came to visit us; the sixth, to restore the paddle to the hands of a young man who had charge of that passage; the seventh, for the Governor, whom they call Onontio. We might have required two others, to rebuild our House and Church, and to erect four Crosses which were at the four corners of our territory; but we contented ourselves with those which they offered us voluntarily. Three of the first Captains concluded the ceremony with three gratuitous gifts, which they made to urge us to be always constant in loving them. All these presents amounted to a hundred.

In return, we also made gifts to each of the eight nations, to bind up again and to confirm the old friendship; to urge them to be always united and at peace, both among themselves and with the French, in order to resist their enemies; to prevent the slanders against the faith and the Christians, whom they accused of every disastrous accident; to console them for the loss of some of their people, killed by the enemies; and finally, to assure them that the Governor, who was Sir Charles de Montmagny, and all the French, would forever forget that murder, for which they had, according to their customs, made full satisfaction. It is how they punish murders; and when presents are not forthcoming at the second or the third time, wars are declared among the nations.

RELIGION OF THE SAME.

I HAD read in several authors, who write against the Atheists, that Atheism is a sin against nature. I did not doubt it; but I have confirmed myself in this opinion through what I have seen in our Indians. Among these wholly uncultivated people, nothing else seems to remain but corrupted nature alone; and yet they are far from the opinions of our libertines, and from Atheism.

First, they believe in the immortality of the soul, and in two separate abodes toward the Sunset, -- for some happy, and for others wretched, although they mingle with these a thousand fables, as the ancients did in speaking of their Elysian fields.

Secondly, they believe in good Spirits and evil ones; so, in dangers, they undertake to appease the Evil ones with a kind of sacrifice which they make by throwing some tobacco, or fat from their feasts, into the fire or the water; they do the same to placate the good spirits. And certainly they have not only the perception of a divinity, but also a name which in their dangers they invoke, without knowing its true significance, -- recommending themselves with these words, Aireskui Sutanditenr; the last of which may be translated as "Have mercy on us".

Thirdly, they frequently address the Sky and the Sun, -- calling upon them to witness now their courage, now their misery, and often their innocence, and, in treaties with outside peoples, their sincere intention, as a being who sees the most secret place of the heart, and is able to avenge the deceit of traitors, -- an acceptation general in ancient paganism.

A nation of Algonquins nearer to the Hurons, called Ottawa, invokes, at almost every feast, the maker of Heaven, asking him for health, long life, and Favorable results in their hunting, fishing, wars, and trade; but they believe that the genie who has created the Heaven is different from the one who has made the Earth, and from the author of the Winter, who dwells toward the North, from where he sends the snows and the cold, as the genie of the waters sends tempests and shipwrecks. The winds have their origin from seven other genii, who dwell in the air and breathe forth the winds which commonly prevail in those regions.

Other Algonquins, nearer to Quebec, believe that every species of animals has a first one, which is the beginning and origin of the others: therefore all the beavers, they say, have issued from the first beaver, which they imagine to be the height of a cabin; and he who sees these first ones in a dream, is fortunate in the hunt of that species of which he has seen the first. Being questioned where these progenitors live, they answered that they do not know with certainty, but that they believe that those of the birds are in the Sky, and those of the other animals in the waters. Our Indians were without religion; therefore they had neither temples, nor Priests, nor feasts, nor prayers and public ceremonies; but they were not only not Atheists, but also not so irreligious as not to render some homage to those genii to whom they attributed their good fortune. So they not only invoked them often, but publicly thanked them in their victories, attributing to them all their success, and all remedies for their ills.

The infidel Hurons distinguished three sorts of diseases: some natural, -- the effects of purely natural causes; others, caused by the soul of the patient being desirous of something; others, by sorcerers. The first, they said, are cured with natural remedies; the second, by satisfying the desires of the soul; the third, by extracting the spell from the ailing man's body. But, for the second it must be recognized that, besides the voluntary desires that we usually have, the Hurons thought that our souls had other desires, in a manner natural, and hidden, born in the depth of the soul -- not in the way of conscious knowledge, but through a certain migration of the soul into some object proportioned to itself.

The Hurons persuaded themselves that the soul revealed the first desires by means of dreams, which are its own voice; and if these dreams are fulfilled, it remains content; otherwise, it is vexed, and not only no longer seeks good and happiness through the body, but, revolting against it, causes it various infirmities, and often death.

In a dream, when one thinks of some distant thing, they believed that the soul went forth from the body, to become present in the thing dreamed of, -- not the perceptive soul, which (they said) never abandoned the body, but the rational one, which in its operation does not depend on the body. For this reason, they diligently observed dreams, to know the desires of the soul, so they might not irritate it; and they often obeyed it at the cost of blood, -- causing their limbs to be cut off, with extreme pain, if the dream so commanded. It happened while we were there, to a prominent man, who -- having dreamed at night that he was in the hands of the enemies, who were cutting off one of his fingers with a sea-shell -- suddenly awoke, and prepared a solemn feast. Upon that occasion, -- the dream being related, according to their custom, -- he did, in the presence of all, have the finger cut off with most cruel pain, -- using, instead of a knife, a shell which lacerated rather than cut the flesh and sinews. This was done to fulfill the dream, and by the advice of their diviners.

The wisest regarded the dream as a voice of the soul, which therefore revealed its innate desires, which in their language were called ondinnonk. These they believed to be so revealed by dreams that they remained frequently concealed; and, just as we show our thoughts by words, and yet, can know them by supernatural vision, they imagined that some were found more enlightened than others, and capable of seeing, in the greatest depth of the soul, its natural and most secret desires; and they called this kind of people arendioguanne.

These were commonly their physicians, -- or, rather, charlatans, -- who, when called to visit some sick man, ordinarily used no other medicine than their superstitious science, -- divining the occult desire of the soul, which was spitefully tormenting the patient's body. They said they had this vision and virtue from an Oki, -- that is, from a powerful genie dwelling in them, which had appeared to them in a dream, or in watching, in the form of an Eagle, or Raven, or some other like animal. They discovered the hidden desires of the sick man, either by looking into a basin full of water; or by acting as if possessed by some fury; or by hiding themselves in some secret place, from where they said they saw the images of the afflicted soul's desires, which they then told him, so he could satisfy it. But the remedies, both of dreams and of these diviners, were mostly vain and useless, although all, vying with one another, applied themselves to procure the things desired, -- as the charlatan said -- without sparing either expense or effort.

Here the eloquence of the Captains found practice; here appeared the liberality and religion of their fellow-countrymen; and though they would normally be ashamed to ask for things for themselves, even of little value, it was no shame on these occasions to content the dream, or ondinnonk, -- to ask for exorbitant things: gifts, banquets, dances, little decent, which were never danced, except on such occasions, -- and it would have been sacrilege to refuse them. More than one of our Jesuits, at the start, ran the risk of life for not being willing, in such cases, to cooperate in their superstitions. These remedies, commonly esteemed superstitious, served then only to show the esteem in which the sick persons were held, -- who, when influential, often pretended to be sick, to be honored by the respect of the public. To this procedure, the patient was always obliged, out of gratitude, to attribute his improved health, even though he felt worse than before; and because those who did so from vanity would suddenly rise upon their feet, belief in the efficiency of these remedies, although they were altogether vain and useless, was common in the country.

The remedy of the enchanters was of the same nature: they commonly used some medicines of a sort to induce vomiting, and if the sick man cast up some lock of hair, some twig, or tiny pebble, they said that this was the spell. This they often boasted of removing, with the point of a knife, from some part of the body, -- substituting, by a ruse, something which they held concealed between the fingers, or elsewhere. If the patient did not get well, they said there was still another demon, and repeated the remedy; and if he died, they excused themselves by saying that the demon which slew him was stronger than theirs. Despite all the bad results of these treatments, this superstitious notion was so rooted throughout the country that scarcely could it be diminished. The origin of this error was a false principle that all remedies always infallibly have their effect; if the patient did not recover with a natural remedy, the malady was supernatural, and there was need of a supernatural and superstitious remedy. Most of their remedies, being impotent, did not work; they then concluded that almost all diseases were supernatural, -- either from spells, or from secret desires of the soul.

Superstition, therefore, was everywhere, although we were not able to convince them that in their remedies or in their diseases there was nothing above the forces of nature; nor could we find any trace of true magic, or witchcraft, and evil art. They had a superstitious regard for everything which savored a little of the uncommon. If, for instance, in their hunt, they had difficulty in killing a Bear or a Stag, and on opening it they found in its head or in the entrails a bone, or a stone, or a serpent, etc., they said that such object was an oki, -- that is, an enchantment which gave strength and vigor to the animal, so that it could not be killed; and they used it as the superstitious do reliquaries, to be always prosperous. If they found in a tree, or beneath the soil, some stone of an uncommon shape, like a plate, or spoon, or any vessel, they esteemed this encounter fortunate; because certain demons' (they said), which live in the woods, forget these things, which make any person who finds them again successful in fishing, hunting, trade, and gaming. These objects they called Aaskuandi, and believed that they often changed form, transforming themselves, for instance, into a serpent, or a raven's beak, or an Eagle's claw, etc., -- changes which none had seen, but which all believed, like a thousand other fables invented by various nations. These nations sold them, at a tolerably high price, rare but worthless objects, merely through their persuasion that this superstition brought them advantage.

Predictions were sold, not only by Prophets, but also by masters of the seasons, who hardly ever divined the truth, and yet did not lose credit. On the contrary, the confidence of the Indians in the multiplicity of spells and witchcrafts went so far that, upon mere suspicion, they often killed and burned even their fellow-countrymen, without any other accuser or judge than a dying man, who said that he had been bewitched by such a one, who was killing him, -- citing as witness of that either the ondinnonk, or a dream, on which depended the lives of these men. And yet, the demon has never had the power to injure, by this means, the preachers.

I would like to warn those who apply themselves to the conversion of new countries, not to believe easily even those things which are believed to be beyond any doubt. It is easy to condemn, on the ground of superstition, many frivolities, and to prohibit them; but it is not easy to recant, or to avoid contempt from the most sensible, who knew the secret. We were somewhat severe on this point, and forced our first Christians to deny themselves not only lawful recreations, but also communication with others, and more than half of the social life.

We now say something of their pious observances toward their dead, which was the most sacred and solemn ceremony that they had. The infidels fear the souls of enemies tormented by them, and they take care to expel them from the cabins, with horrible and universal noise, after the Sunset of the day when they have put them to death; but they do not fear those souls of enemies who have died in other ways, and much less those of their friends and relatives. These last, the women solemnly grieve; -- especially in the morning, just after daybreak, -- for entire weeks; but the widows, besides this bewailing, no longer adorn themselves, or bathe or anoint themselves, but, with disheveled hair, meticulously observe a sullen silence. There was a certain mother who kept in her hut for whole years the body of her dead son, although putrid; they do not believe that the soul, even when separated, withdraws suddenly from the body.

They frequently go, especially the women, to mourn at the sepulchers of their dead, which are outside the villages, -- usually all in the same open space, but each by itself in the air, above 4 supports, in coffins of huge pieces of the bark of trees, -- if they have died a natural death. There they leave them until a feast which they call "the feast of the dead," which they make every 8 or 10 years. At that time, all those of the same village take down these coffins, and carefully scrape the flesh from the bones of their departed; and having enveloped them in precious skins, with an invitation to the whole country, they solemnly bury them all together, forever, in a great trench richly lined, -- where they also bury various gifts, kettles, etc., which they think that the souls need, even in the other life. But he who dies by violent death is burned, or buried, immediately, and often still half alive (and I have seen this more than once), except those who have died from the cold, of whom they make a superstitious and protracted dissection before putting their bare bones in the ground: but neither are again removed from there, even for the feast of the dead, -- they believing that the souls of those unhappy ones, who died miserably either in war, or by shipwreck, etc., have no communication in the other life with the other souls.

They bury the corpses with what was most precious in life; and, at the burning of a village, -- preferring the dead to the living, and the sepulchers to the cabins, -- they did not feel troubled at incurring an irreparable loss, so they could save the bones of their departed before extinguishing the fire in their own cabins. Our neophytes, desirous to continue their custom of burying with them the things dear to the deceased, gave us, as a reason, their own grief, and said that they did not do so because they believed such things to be necessary or useful to the souls separated from the bodies, but to remove from their own eyes the things which, being often seen in the cabin, revived in their minds the memory of the deceased one.

If the memory of relatives already dead afflicts them, much more does it displease them to hear these dead mentioned; and the greatest insult that can be said to a man is to say to him: "Your father, or your mother, or your relatives are dead." Indeed, merely to say, "your dead," they esteem the most horrible of all curses, in itself capable of bringing one person to blows with another. And, if by necessity a dead man must be named, his own name cannot be mentioned without cruel insult, unless there be added at the end, "deceased," as we say, "the late so-and-so;" or he is just called "the deceased," or "he who has abandoned us." And on this account, when anyone has died in some village, the Captains promptly announce the fact in a loud voice through the street, so that he may no more be named without "the late;" and if anyone have the same name as the dead, in the same village, he changes it for some time, in order not to irritate the wound, still fresh, of the distressed relatives. But if the name of the deceased were famous, it is never lost, but it is taken again by the head of the family at some solemn banquet; and this person is said to have brought him to life again. This was infallibly observed in all the names of Captains, who therefore never die.

It remains for me, before finishing this first part, to answer 3 curious questions, -- asked me by persons in Europe, -- which I have been at a loss to insert elsewhere.

The first is whether the hours of the flow and ebb of tide on the shores of America are the same as on ours of Europe, or the opposite; and this, for the sake of knowing whether the beginning of this movement comes from the middle of the sea, to the two extreme shores, or from the shores of Europe to those of America, per modum unius. After diligent examination, with the aid of excellent seamen, I have found that the matter takes place in neither one way nor the other.

If it should occur from shore to shore, there would be required too considerable a time on the sea to accomplish a movement of three thousand miles; the same would also be true, if it should occur in the middle, to compass one of 1,500 miles to each of the extremes; and yet the tide rises in six hours, and in six it returns.

I answer directly: first, that the flow and ebb does not occur with regularity, save at the shores of the sea, but, at 25 or 30 miles from land, it is irregular, -- in some places it follows the winds, in others it is contrary to them, in others it never changes, -- and this is evidently proved by the boats which stay there at anchor during whole days, for the cod-fishery.

Secondly, that in some places -- as in the gulf into which the river of Saint Lawrence flows (which is the great river of Canada), therefore called the gulf of Saint Lawrence -- the current during some months bears toward the sea; during some others, toward land.

Thirdly, that in the river of Saint Lawrence, -- 60 miles wide; that is, like the Adriatic sea, -- in the Southern part there is never a flow, but always an ebb; and in some parts of it, near the North shore, the water rises and falls every day without a flow, and without an ebb, -- as the ships have proved which lay there at anchor in the shelter of some Islands. And yet, after some hundreds of miles in the same river, the flow and ebb is everywhere regular, 6 hours apart, just as on the shores of the sea; although, in proportion as the distance from there increases, the flow diminishes, with an increase of the ebb, which finally reaches more than 9 hours, leaving little more than two for the flow. There is perhaps some motion and secret impulse in the depth of the water, which does not appear at the surface.

The second question is, from where comes so great an abundance of water, almost everywhere, throughout America. This question may have two senses, -- one historic, the other philosophical; one referring to the formal, the other, to the efficient cause. To the first the answer is easy, and I have given it according to the new chart or map which has been recently engraved at Paris, -- on which are seen the many and vast lakes which furnish the water necessary to the great river of Saint Lawrence. As for the second, "How are these great lakes themselves formed? Why do they not dry up or diminish after so many centuries?" the answer belongs to the Philosophers. This is not so easy, even less so for America than for the three other parts of the world, -- not only for South America, where it rains frequently; but for North America, where the rains are more moderate than in Europe. Not so great an abundance of water is discharged into the sea, as appears at first sight; because the flood-tide of the sea every 6 hours forms a sort of watery dike against the water itself, -- even forcing it back, against its nature, with an unspeakable vehemence, over 500 miles within the river; and hardly has it returned with the ebb-tide to the first dike, when the new flood-tide drives it back as before; therefore, little water is discharged into the sea.

The third is, whether the declination of the magnetic needle is the same as here, and whether we have found any rule for it. To this question the answer is easy. In voyages which I have made to those parts, with frequent observations, I have always constantly discovered that, on starting from the coasts of France, -- from either Normandy, or Brittany, or Aquitaine, where the declination is from 2 to 3 degrees from the North toward the East, as Far as the Azore Islands; or from Flanders, as indicated on the maps, -- this declination always diminishes, until it is finally reduced to nothing. But as one sails Westward from those Islands, it sensibly increases, in such a way that, after 1000 or 1200 miles, -- that is, in the sea where they fish for cod (which they call "the great bank," because there is a shoal there, which does not appear before reaching that place, nor afterward), -- it is already 22 degrees and more from the North toward the West, contrary to the case in Europe. But, as one continues navigating still Westward, the declination continues perceptibly to diminish, in such a way that, after 600 miles or more, -- that is, at Quebec, -- it is no more than 16 degrees; and the further one penetrates toward the West and inland, the more it decreases, until, in the country of the Hurons, who are 35 minutes of an hour further west than Quebec, it is no more than 12 degrees.

THE CONVERSION OF THE INDIANS TO THE FAITH.

As for the roving Indians, it has been necessary to incur great expense, to reduce them to some stability, without which their instruction in the Faith was impossible, and have been employed the large donations of a great number of persons full of fervor for those unfortunate people, after the example of the invincible King Louis XIII, of the Queen his Spouse, and of the famous Cardinal Richelieu, who have promoted this cause. To this need, the Hospital and the Seminary for Girls -- built at Quebec, which is the first fort of the French near the sea -- have ministered. In one of these are the Nuns whom in France they call Hospitalieres, who crossed over from the City of Dieppe; and in the other, those whom we call Ursulines, who went there from Paris and Tours, along with their Foundress, most of them from noble families. These Nuns have aided by their labors, by spiritual and worldly charity, and still more through their example, in attracting not only the Indians, but also many French, into those desert regions, -- in which their establishment has secured that of the Indians, who have settled there in large numbers.

I intend only to say something of the beginning and the close of the Mission of the Hurons; these are the tribes whom we have mentioned as being stationary, with Towns and Villages, about 900 miles away from Quebec, and 4,000 from Europe. And, I will here mention various difficulties which opposed it.

FIRST DIFFICULTY IN THE CONVERSION OF THE HURONS -- ESTABLISHMENT IN THE COUNTRY.

THIS Mission was unprecedented, and extremely arduous, -- unprecedented because we do not know that the Preachers of the Faith elsewhere in foreign On countries have gone to make a fixed residence so far from the sea, without possibility of aid from Europe in the matter of food, clothing, and all other necessities of nature. Missions have usually been established in places where ships -- or, at least, boats -- could bring some assistance; and from there the missionaries would depart, by land or by water, into various quarters.

But the mission of the Hurons lasted more than sixteen years, in a country where one cannot go with other boats than of bark, which carry at the most only one thousand gold coins of burden, including the passengers, -- who are frequently obliged to bear on their shoulders, from four to six miles, along with the boat and the provisions, all the furniture for the journey; for there is not, in the space of more than 700 miles, any inn. For this reason, we have passed whole years without receiving so much as one letter, either from Europe or from Quebec, and in a total deprivation of every human assistance, even that most necessary for our mysteries and sacraments themselves, the country having neither wheat nor wine, which are indispensable for Mass.

All this, having been foreseen and examined, caused many to believe this mission either impossible or presumptuous, -- besides the great difficulty of learning their language, which is different from that of the other Indians. But, as this nation was the key to many others, also stationary, -- who, they assured us, dwelt in great number toward the West, -- this mission was regarded as a matter of the utmost importance. It was therefore undertaken by some Franciscan Fathers and by some of our Jesuits, for the first time, in 1624, -- but without great result, owing to their ignorance of the language; then, more substantially, in 1634, after the English were compelled to abandon that country, by our Jesuits alone. These tribes were known to the French, not through journeys which the French first made there, -- their towns being almost inaccessible to every European, -- but because the Hurons, obtaining news of the French ships, which came every year to those shores, decided to undertake that most difficult journey.

The first of our Jesuits who went there, together with two Franciscan Fathers, was Father Jean de Brebeuf. Being captured by the English, and conducted back to France with the aforementioned Fathers, and others of our Jesuits, he obtained permission to return there with the first Frenchmen who again crossed over to New France, -- that he might begin with two companions of our Jesuits, and six laymen, the conversion of these tribes to the faith.

The Demon, who feared this enemy, tried to hinder the journey, and in 1633 prevented it; but the Hurons, who had come down for trade, to the number of seven or eight hundred, -- with a hundred and fifty boats of bark, which we call Canoes, -- desired it. In the following year, the number of Hurons who came down was smaller, and among them were many sick. They would gladly have embarked a certain young Frenchman, with arms for hunting and for war; but they did not wish to load themselves with people who wore cassocks, -- esteeming them useless, and even prejudicial to their interests.

Here follows Father de Brebeuf's letter on this matter to the Superior of the Mission:

"I have never seen any departure so much thwarted; but the great Saint Joseph caused us successfully to overcome all the difficulties. We added new presents to the Indians, and lessened our own burdens, -- carrying only what was absolutely necessary for the Mass, and for living on the way."

Then, after having spoken of the general difficulties of that laborious journey, "In ours," he adds, "we have had other special ones; we were always obliged to paddle, neither more nor less than the Indians, from morning until evening, without having other time to say the Office than at night by the light of the fire. At the portages," that is, at the waterfalls, where everything is carried, "we had to make four journeys, burdened above our strength, until we could no longer exert it. They had abandoned some of our people on a certain rock, but other Indians took them into their Canoes."

SECOND DIFFICULTY -- THE DANGERS OF THE JOURNEY.

THERE is, besides the common perils, the danger of falling into the hands of other Indians, their enemies, who are most cruel assassins, capable of terrifying the most courageous; and because this danger is not only imaginary but actual, more than one of our missionaries having incurred it, -- I have judged it beneficial to insert here certain letters from one of those missionaries who was captured by the enemy on this journey. I reserve for a more suitable place the captivity of another, who died there. Here follows what he writes to our Father General, and to some friends in Europe:

"Reverend Father,

I do not know whether you will recognize the letter of a poor cripple, who, formerly, when in perfect health, was well known to you. The letter is badly written, and quite soiled, because, in addition to other inconveniences, he who writes it has only one whole finger on his right hand; and it is difficult to avoid staining the paper with the blood which flows from his wounds, not yet healed.

He uses musket gunpowder for ink, and the earth for a table. He writes it from the country of the Iroquois, where at present he happens to be a captive; and desires to give you a brief report of what God has at last decreed for him.

I started from Three Rivers by order of the Superior, on you 27th of last April, -- together with six Christian Barbarians, and a young Frenchman, with three canoes, -- to go to the country of the Hurons. The first evening, the Huron who was guiding our canoe, wishing to shoot at an Eagle, was the occasion of our wreck in the lake named for St. Peter; two Hurons, by swimming, dragged me to land, as I did not know how to swim, and there we spent the night, all drenched.

The Hurons took this accident for a bad omen, and counseled me to return from where we had started, as we were not yet more than 8 or 10 miles away from there. They declared that certainly the journey would not result well for us, but I, who suspected some superstition in this speech, judged it best to proceed to another French fort, 30 miles farther, where I hoped that we might refresh ourselves. They obeyed me, and we started for that place on the following morning, quite early, but the snow and the bad weather prevented us from making much progress, and obliged us to end the day at noon.

The third day, when not distant more than 22 or 24 miles from Three Rivers, and 7 or 8 miles from the fortress of Richelieu, we were taken captive by 27 Iroquois, who, having killed one of our Indians, captured the others, and me with them. We might have fled, or indeed killed some Iroquois, but I, on seeing my companions taken, judged it better to remain with them, -- accepting as a sign of the will of God the inclination of those who conducted me, who chose rather to surrender than to escape by flight. Those who had captured us made horrible cries; and after many thanks to the Sun for having in their hands, among the others, a "black robe," -- as therefore they call the Jesuits, -- they changed our canoes. Then, having taken from us everything, -- that is, provisions for all of our Jesuits who lived among the Hurons, who were in extreme necessity, as they had not been able for several years to obtain help from Europe, -- they commanded us to sing.

Meanwhile, they led us to a little neighboring river, where they divided the spoils, and tore away the scalp and hair from the slaughtered Huron, to carry it in triumph, attached to a pole; they also cut off his feet and hands, along with the most fleshy parts of the body, to eat them, with the heart. Then they made us cross the lake, to spend the night in a place somewhat retired, but damp, in which we began to sleep, bound and in the open air, as during the remainder of the journey. It consoled me to know that this was the will of God, as I had undertaken this journey through obedience; and I hoped much from the intercession of the Virgin, and that of many souls who were praying for me.

On the following day, we embarked on a river upon which we had hardly made a few miles when they commanded me to throw into the water my writings, which they had left with me until then, as if these had been the cause, as they superstitiously believed, of the wreck of our canoe; and they were astonished that I showed some feeling on that score, not having shown any at the loss of everything else. We still voyaged two days against the current of the river, until we were compelled by the rapids to go ashore; and we traveled six days in the woods. The second day, which was a Friday, the sixth of May, -- we met other Iroquois, who were going to war. They accompanied many threats with some blows which they gave us; and having told our group about the death of one of theirs, killed by a Frenchman, the result was that my captors began to treat me more harshly than before.

When they seized us, they were dying with hunger; therefore in two or three days they consumed all our provisions, and for the remainder of the journey there was no food except from either hunting or fishing, or from some wild root, if any were found. During the extreme hunger which we suffered, they found on the shore of the river a dead and putrid beaver, which at evening they gave to me, so I might wash it in the river; but, having thrown it away, -- persuading myself that this was their intention, so stinking it was, -- I paid for that with a severe penance. I will not write here what I suffered on that journey; enough to know that we marched, carrying burdens, in the woods, where there is no road at all, but only stones, or young shoots, or ditches, or water, or snow, -- which was not yet everywhere melted. We traveled without shoes; fasting sometimes until three and four o'clock in the afternoon, and often whole days; exposed to the rain, and soaked in he water of the torrents and rivers which we had to cross.

At evening, my job was to gather the wood, carry the water, and do the cooking, when there was any; and if I came short in anything, or did not understand well, the blows were not lacking, -- and much less did these fail when we happened to meet people who were going either fishing or hunting; besides, I was hardly able to rest at night, due to being bound to a tree and exposed to the severity of the air, which was still quite cold. We finally reached their lake, on which -- when they had made other canoes, at which it was necessary for me to assist them -- we sailed five or six days, after which we landed, and there we made three days' journey on foot.

On the fourth day, which was the 15th of May, -- about the 20th hour, being still where about 400 Indians were assembled for fishing; being already told of our arrival, they then came to meet us. At about 500 feet from their cabins, they stripped me naked, and made me go first; on either side, the young men of the country stood in line, everyone with his stick in hand, but the first of them had, instead of the stick, a knife. Then, as I began to proceed, this one suddenly stopped me; and having taken my left hand, with the knife which he held, he made in it an incision between the little finger and the ring-finger, with so much force and violence that I believed he would split my whole hand; and the others began to load me with blows as far as the stage prepared for our torment.

Then they made me mount upon some great pieces of bark, about seven feet above the ground, -- so we might be seen and mocked by the people. I was now bruised all over, and covered with blood, which was flowing from all parts of my body, -- and exposed to a cold wind, which made it suddenly congeal over the skin. Meanwhile, the warriors arrived, and were magnificently received by the people of this village; and when they were refreshed with the best that they had from their fishing, they commanded us to sing; it may be imagined how we could do so fasting and weak from the journey, overwhelmed with blows, and trembling with cold from head to foot.

Later, a Huron slave brought us a dish of corn; and a Captain, seeing me tremble with cold, at my urgency finally tossed back to me half of an old summer garment, all torn, which covered rather than warmed me. They made us sing until the warriors went away; and they left us in the hands of the young men of the place, who finally made us come down from that stage, where we had been about two hours, -- to make us dance in their manner; and because I did not do so, or know how to, they beat me, pricked me, tore out my hair and beard, etc. They kept us in this place five or six days for their pastime, exposed to the discretion or indiscretion of everybody. It was necessary to obey the children, and that in things little reasonable, and often contrary. "Get up and sing," said one. "Be quiet," said the other; and if I obeyed one, the other ill-used me. "Here, give your hand, which I will burn for you," and the other burned me because I did not extend it to him.

They commanded me to take the fire in my fingers, and put it into their pipes, in which they took tobacco; and then they purposely made it fall four or five times in succession, to make me burn my hands by picking it up again from the ground. This was usually done at night.

Toward evening, the Captains shouted through the cabins with frightful voices: "Up! assemble yourselves, O young men, and come to caress our prisoners." At this invitation, they arose and gathered themselves into some large cabin; and lifting from my back that poor rag of clothing which they had returned to me, they left me naked. Then some pricked me with sharp sticks, others with firebrands; these burned me with red-hot stones, those with hot ashes and lighted coals. They made me walk around the fire, where they had fixed in the earth sharp sticks between the burning ashes; some tore out my hair, others my beard; and every night, after having made me sing, and tormented me as written above, they would burn one of my nails or fingers for the space of eight or ten minutes; of the ten fingers that I had, I have now only one whole one left, -- and even from this one they tore out the nail with their teeth. One evening, they burned one of my nails; on another, the first joint or section of a finger; on the next, the second. In six times, they burned nearly six of my fingers, -- and more than 18 times they applied the fire and iron to my hands alone; and meanwhile it was necessary to sing.

Thus they treated us until one or two hours after midnight, and then they left me on the bare ground, usually tied to the spot, and exposed to the rain, without other bed or cover than a small skin, which covered not the half of my body, -- even at times without anything, because they had already torn up that piece of garment; although, out of pity, they made of it for me enough to cover that which decency does not permit to be uncovered, even among themselves, but retained the rest.

I was treated in this way, and worse, for a whole month; but at this first place, no longer than eight days. I would never have believed that a man could endure so hard a life. One night, while they were tormenting me as usual, a Huron who had been taken captive with me, -- perhaps because he had seen that one of his companions, having declared himself against us, had freed himself from the torments, -- shouted, in the midst of the assembly, that I was a person of rank, and a Captain among the French. He was heard with great attention, and then they uttered a loud shout in token of joy, -- deciding to treat me still worse, -- and, on the following morning, condemned me to be burned alive, and eaten.

They then began to guard me more strictly, not leaving me alone even in the necessities of nature, -- in which both the men and the boys molested me, to make me return as soon as possible to the cabin, fearing in case I should escape.

We started from there on the 26th of May; and four days later we arrived at the first Village of this nation. On this journey, -- made on foot amid rains and other hardships, -- my sufferings were greater than before. The barbarian who conducted me was more cruel than the first, and I was wounded, weak, ill fed, and half naked; besides, I slept in the open air, bound to a stake or to a tree, trembling all night with cold, and from the pain of these bonds. At difficult places in the road, I had need of someone to aid me because of my weakness, but all help was denied me; for this reason, I often fell, renewing my wounds; and to these they added new blows, to urge me to proceed, -- thinking that I was feigning for the sake of staying behind, and then taking flight. Once, I fell into a river, and came near being drowned; however, I got out, I do not know how; and all drenched with water, together with a quite heavy bundle on my shoulders, I had to complete about six miles more marching until evening. They, meanwhile, jeered at me, and at my stupidity in having allowed myself to fall into the river; and they did not omit, at night, to burn off one of my nails.

We finally arrived at the first village of that nation, where our entrance was similar to the former, and still more cruel, because -- in addition to the blows with their fists, and other blows which they gave me on the most sensitive parts of the body -- they split, for the second time, my left hand between the middle finger and the fore finger; and I received beatings in so great number that they made me fall to the ground, half dead, I thought that I would lose my right eye, with my sight; and although I did not rise from the ground, for I could not, they did not cease to beat me, chiefly on the breast and on the head. Indeed, without some other hindrance they would have ended by killing me, had not a Captain caused me to be dragged -- by force -- upon a stage of bark, similar to the first, where they cut off the thumb of my left hand and wounded the forefinger.

Meanwhile a great rain came up, with thunder and lightning and they went away, leaving us there, naked in the water, until someone, taking pity on us, toward evening led us to his cabin. Here they tormented us with greater cruelty than ever, without a moment of rest: they forced me to eat filth; burned the rest of my nails, and some fingers; wrung off my toes, and bored one of them with a firebrand; and I do not know what they did not do to me once, when I feigned to be in a swoon, to seem not to see something indecent that they were doing.

Sated with tormenting us here, they sent us to another Village, nine or ten miles away, where, besides the other torments already mentioned, they suspended me by the feet, -- sometimes with cords, again with chains, which they had taken from the Dutch; with these, at night, they left me bound -- hands, feet, and neck to several stakes, -- as usual, upon the bare ground. Six or seven nights they tormented me in such fashion, and in such places, that I could not describe these things, nor could they be read without blushing. On those nights, I was awake almost all night, and they appeared to me long, although they were the shortest of the year. "My God, what will purgatory be?" This thought appeased my pains.

In this manner of living, I had become so fetid and horrible that everyone drove me away like a piece of carrion, -- and they approached me for no other purpose than to torment me. Scarcely did I find anyone to feed me, -- although I had not the use of my hands, which were abnormally swollen and putrid; I was therefore still further tormented by hunger, which led me to eat Indian corn raw, with concern for my health, -- and made me find a relish in chewing clay, although I could not easily swallow it. I was covered with loathsome vermin, and could neither get rid of them nor defend myself from them. In my wounds, worms were produced; out of one finger alone, more than four fell in one day, so that I would have regarded, by the judgment of self-love, death as gain.

I had an abscess in the right thigh, caused by blows and frequent falls, which hindered me from all repose, -- especially since I had only skin and bone, and the earth, for bed. Several times, the Indians had tried, but to no purpose, to open it, with sharp stones, -- with great pain to me. I was compelled to employ as Surgeon the renegade Huron who had been taken with us. The Huron -- on the day which was believed was the eve of my death -- opened it for me with four knife-thrusts, and caused blood and matter to issue from it, in so great abundance and with such stench that all the Indians of the cabin were compelled to abandon it. I desired and was awaiting death, but with some horror of the fire; I was preparing for it, however, as best I could.

The Huron and Algonquin prisoners (these are our Indians), instead of consoling me, were the first to torment me, to please the Iroquois. I did not see the good Guillaume, except afterward, when my life was granted me; and the lad who had been taken in my company was no longer with me, especially after they perceived that I had him say his prayers, -- a thing which they did not favor. But they did not leave him without torments, for, although he was no more than twelve or thirteen years old, they tore out five of his nails with their teeth; and at his arrival in the country, they bound his wrists tightly with thongs, causing him the acutest pain, -- and all in my presence, to afflict me the more. The days being irksome to me, and having no rest at night, I counted in the month five days more than I should; but, seeing the Moon one evening, I corrected my error. I did not know why they deferred my death so long; they told me that it was to fatten me before eating me, but they took no means to do so.

One day, at last, they assembled to dispatch me. It was the 19th of June, which I considered the last of my life. I asked a Captain to commute, if it was possible, the death by fire into some other, but another man urged him to remain firm in the resolution already taken. The first assured me that I should die neither by fire nor by any other death; I did not believe him, and do not know whether he himself spoke in good faith. But finally, it was as he said.

The Indians themselves marveled at this result, contrary to their every intention, as the Dutch have reported and written to me; they then gave me, with the ceremonies of the country, to an Old woman, in place of her grandfather, killed some time before by the Hurons. She, instead of having me burned -- as all desired, and had already resolved, -- ransomed me from their hands at the price of some beads; which the French call "wampum." I live here among the shadows of death, not hearing anything spoken of but murders and assassinations. They have recently slain, in a cabin, one of their own nation, as being useless, and as one who did not deserve to live. Of course, I suffer somewhat here; my wounds are not yet healed, and many do not regard me with a favorable eye. The Dutch cause me to hope for my ransom, and that of the Lad who was taken with me.

From the Iroquois, the 15th of July, 1644."

But, as Father de Brebeuf had no facilities for sending this letter promptly, it arrived in Europe, accompanied with some others, which I will give here in the order in which they were written.

'I have not met (says the second letter) anyone to carry the first letter; you will therefore receive it along with this one, which is intended to give you news of my ransom, caused by the Dutch, from the hands of the Indians who kept me a prisoner. The matter was not difficult, and they ransomed me cheaply, on account of the small esteem in which the Indians held me, because of my lack of skill for everything, and because they believed that I would never get well of my ailments. I was twice sold, the first time to that Old woman who was thought would have me burned, -- and the second to the Dutch, quite dear, -- that is, for the price of 30 or 40 gold coins. On the 19th of August, I had been a captive in the country of the Iroquois four months.

I could not render to those unfortunates, for the evil which they did me, the good which I desired for them, which was to give them the knowledge of the true God. Not knowing the language, I tried to instruct, by means of a captive interpreter, an old man who was dying; but pride hindered him from listening to me; he answered me that a man of his age and standing should teach, and not be taught. I asked him whether he knew where he would go after death; he answered me, "To the Sunset;" and here he began to relate their fables and delusions, which those wretched people, blinded by the Demon, regard as the most solid truths.

I baptized no one except a Huron, whom they brought to the place where I was, to burn him; those who were guarding me urged me to go to see him. I went there with repugnance, -- they having falsely told me that he was not one of our Indians and that I would not have understood him. I pass through the crowd; they form in line for me, and allow me to approach that man who was already quite disfigured by the tortures. He was lying on the bare ground; without being able to rest his head in any place; I, seeing near him a stone, push it with my foot as far as his head, so he could use it for a pillow. Then, -- looking at me, and, either by some wisp of beard which I had left, or by some other sign, judging that I was a stranger, -- he said to the person who had him in custody:

"Is not this the European whom you hold captive?" And, the other having answered "Yes," looking at me a second time with a somewhat pitiful glance, "Sit down," (he said to me), "my brother, near me, for I desire to speak to you." I do so, with horror at the stench which emanated from that body already half roasted, and ask him what he desires, -- rejoicing to understand him a little, because he spoke Huron, and hoping through this opportunity to be able to instruct him for baptism; but his answer, to my utmost consolation, anticipated me. "For what do I ask?" he says; "I ask only for baptism: make haste, because the time is short."

I questioned him and I found him perfectly instructed, -- having been received among the Christian trainees, in the country of the Hurons. I baptized him then; but although I had done so with some craftiness, -- having used a little water which I had had brought for giving him to drink, -- the Iroquois still perceived it. The Captains being informed of this, they drove me from the cabin with anger and threats, -- beginning to torment him again as before; and the following morning they finished roasting him alive. Then, because I had baptized him, they carried all his limbs, one by one, into the cabin where I lived, -- skinning, in my presence, and eating, his feet and hands. The husband of the mistress of the cabin put at my feet the dead man's head, and left it there a considerable time, -- reproaching me with what I had done, by saying: "And what have your enchantments" (speaking of the baptism, and of the prayers that we had said together) "helped him? Have they perhaps delivered him from death?"

I then felt great sorrow at not being able, for lack of language, to explain to them at so excellent an opportunity the virtue of baptism. But that time has not yet arrived; their sins, and especially pride, are a great obstacle to the grace of God. They all account themselves Champions: they despise the Europeans as vile and cowardly people, and think that they themselves were born to subjugate the world.

Father de Brebeuf

From New Amsterdam (New York City), the 31st of August, 1644.'

The third letter is written from the Isle of Rhe, and dated the 16th of November in the same year, in which Father de Brebeuf asks the aid of prayers to thank God for having been delivered, not only from the hands of the Iroquois, but also from the fury of the sea, on which he had experienced horrible tempests:

"One tempest, among others," says the letter, "on the 27th of September, was most frightful; it lasted more than 24 hours, and brought us to the pass of deciding to cut the masts of the ship. We were chased, by Turkish Corsairs for whole days. I made the whole voyage with French Protestants, to whom the name of 'Papist' or of 'Jesuit' was displeasing; I had no other bed than a bare box, on which I could not stretch out at full length. The victuals and the water failed us; and yet except sea-sickness, to which I am subject -- I was always very well. After 55 days of a tiresome navigation, I arrived in sailor's dress at the Isle of Rhe, in better health than I have so far had in the over 18 years during which I have been in the Jesuits."

I omit a thousand other details which do not pertain to the danger from the Iroquois, -- such as the circumstances of his ransom, his treatment by the Dutch, etc., but I cannot omit the last letter, which he wrote at the urging of various persons after his return to France. Here it is, faithfully translated from the French:

'You have asked me some questions about my captivity in the country of the Iroquois; I cannot fail in a reply.

To the first question, "for what reason the Iroquois so ill-used me," I answer: "Because they regarded me as their enemy." Not for being a European, -- for they are friends to the Dutch, who are Europeans like us, -- but because we are friends and defenders of the Indians with whom they do not wish peace; and we maintain it for no other motive than to convert them. Thus the first origin of this hostility is the Faith, which binds us, even at the peril of life, to friendship with those whom we convert, and, indirectly, to hostility with the Iroquois. "If you love, as you say, our souls, love," they say, "our bodies also; and let us be from now on but one nation; our enemies will be yours, and we shall all incur the same dangers."

Add to this the hatred which the Iroquois bear toward the Holy Faith, which they call magic. (Therefore they recently prolonged for eight days the torments -- which they commonly dispatch in one day -- of a Christian Indian who publicly boasted of being such, and was called Joseph Onahre, whom they finally put to death with most ferocious rage.) But they particularly hate the sign of the Cross, which they have learned from the Dutch to be a superstition; and on this account, they killed the good Rene Goupil, a companion of Father Jogues, and separated from me that lad, whom I caused to make this sign, along with other prayers.

All those who make a voyage to Canada, and in particular those who go to the Hurons, must expose themselves to these dangers; and if, for fear of the torments of the Iroquois, or for other cause, no one dared to make it, those poor people would gradually become altogether abandoned, and without any spiritual assistance; therefore, those who die there ought to be envied.

The second question, -- about my inward condition. I will tell you three graces which I received from God: the first, that although I was always within two fingers of death, still my mind was always free, so that I could do everything with proper reflection. The body was extremely dejected, -- scarcely could I open my lips to say a Lord's Prayer; -- but inwardly, I talked with the same freedom that I use now. The second grace was so to dispose my inward feelings that in proportion to the dangers which increased from without, my mental condition changed, and I had continually less horror of death and of the fire. The third grace was to prevent in me the impulses of resentment against my tormentors; on the contrary, I pitied them.

I come to the third question: of the occupations which I had there, and how I consoled myself. I felt the torments keenly, but within I had such strength to suffer them that I was astonished at myself. I account this favor greater than deliverance from pain. I did not lack some interior distress, but not at the time of the torments, which I feared more before experiencing them than when I actually suffered them; and often I was more terrified on seeing them practiced on others, than while undergoing them on my own person.

These pains were uncertainties in faith, a temptation which I deem common at the hour of death. By giving to myself those thoughts, I found myself in great peace and tranquility. I once made a journey of many miles, saying nothing else but the Credo, -- with so much satisfaction that the journey, otherwise fatiguing, and the quite heavy burden, appeared to me nothing. I spent a great part of the days in the assemblies and on the stages, where I was an object of the ridicule not only of the men, but also of the boys, who did not give me one or two hours of time to rest from morning until night. Their usual conversation was to tell me: "We will burn you;" "We will eat you;" "I will eat one of your feet," "And I a hand;" etc.

Fourthly, you wished to know whether among those Barbarians there was not someone who had a little pity for me, or at least was not as cruel as the others. I do not doubt it at all; but no one dared to show it, fearing to be despised, because it is a sign of bravery among them to torment a captive with cruelty; to pity him, they account it a sign of cowardice. One evening, -- while they were burning the ring-finger of my right hand for the last time, -- instead of singing, as they commanded me, I intoned that Miserere with so awful a voice that I made them afraid, and all listened to me with attention. Even he who was burning me remitted a little of that severity with which he had begun, but he did not refrain from continuing, fearing that they would mock him. I thought then that I would die, so cruel was the pain; I therefore urged our captive Hurons to suffer cheerfully, especially if it should befall them to do so for the Faith, -- assuring them that the hope of Paradise deterred me from fearing death. They promised me this, and two did so, who were roasted by slow fire soon afterward, and eaten; they were confessed by me before dying.

To be tightly bound is a great torment, which I had never realized while considering the passion of Our Lord; when I was bound, I could not in any way sleep; with all this, they kept me there all night. At daybreak, I would ask someone to unbind me; if this one perceived that he was seen by others, he scolded me; but if he could do so without being blamed for cowardice, -- if it could be done without witnesses, -- he commonly unbound me. Besides, if all had been equally cruel, I would have died from hunger, because, as I had not the use of my hands, it was necessary to feed me; and many, instead of putting a certain kind of porridge, which was my whole food, into my mouth, poured it over my breast. Many threw upon my flesh lighted coals; but others, out of pity, shook them from me, and poured food into my mouth, although barely enough to live on.

The last question was, "why did I not try in some way to appease them?" To seek to appease them was to irritate them: sometimes I said that I was bound too tightly, and that they would make me die in my bonds, and not in the fire, as they were threatening me. This served only to have me more tightly bound. "How now?" they would then say, mocking me; "are you not better off now?" -- frequently using, according to their custom, cruel ironies.

Usually they left me thinking that I would have to die the same night, -- so much did I feel myself failing; but hardly did I close my eyes when unbound in the morning, when I suddenly dreamed of being perfectly healed. Although I banished this thought, as a temptation likely to divert me from the beneficial consideration of death, and even while sleeping, made more than one reflection that this was a dream, still I could not persuade myself so; and on waking, I looked to see whether or not it were true. This thought, though only in a dream, gave me so much vigor that after one or two hours of rest, I felt myself full of life, and of strength to suffer, as on the first day when I began to be tormented.'

Here ends the letter.

To confirm the danger there is of encountering, on journeys, this kind of murderer -- the Father who wrote these letters, having returned the same year to those countries, in four voyages which he made there at various times for the necessities of the mission, met them three times, and was again wounded by them.

There is, besides this, on that long and meager journey, a continual danger of shipwreck, and of wretchedly dying from hunger. One voyages in boats made from bark, of trees, -- no thicker than a coin, -- for the space of about 900 miles, over dangerous rivers and immense lakes, where the storms are like those of the sea, -- especially in one, which is 1200 miles in circumference. The greatest danger, however, is in the rivers; I say rivers, because several of them are navigated. One follows the great Saint Lawrence River only for the space of 400 miles; and then, along rapids and precipices, are other rivers, lakes, and streams, until one encounters the great Lake Huron, otherwise called "the freshwater sea."

There are then met along these rivers about 60, either cascades, -- that is, places where the rivers fall from a height of 8, 16, 20, or more yards, -- or else portages, -- that is, places where some space of land is crossed, to reach some other lake or river which does not communicate with the one which is therefore left; and they are called portages, because it is necessary there to carry everything by land; provisions, bed, -- which is only a blanket or a mat, -- boat, and house, which is some bark of trees with which to defend oneself at night from the rain. The rapids are dangerous, if the boatmen are caught in the strength of the current; and the Indians themselves have often made shipwreck there. They are one, 2, 4, 6, 8, or 10 miles in length; but, at those long ones, not everything is always carried on the shoulders, because where the boat can be dragged, laden or empty, in the river, the Indians are not afraid to do so. This is performed, -- not without some danger and much inconvenience, -- often entering the water, quite cold, up to their waists, sometimes up to the neck; they are then compelled to save themselves by swimming. Sometimes the boats have been lost there, because the men who were dragging them could not resist the violence of the current.

But the journey, which the others make by land, is not much less laborious, for it is made among brush and rocks, in wild forests, -- usually with bare feet through the torrents and swampy places, which must often be forded, unless one encounter some prostrate tree, which serves for a bridge, though frequently more dangerous and more inconvenient than the water itself and the mud. They are also assailed at every step, not only by the fear of the enemy, but by the sharp stings of innumerable mosquitoes and other most annoying little creatures. There is also the danger of dying from hunger, because, no inns being found along the way, it is necessary to carry with them provisions for 3 or 4 months, which are consumed on the journey and during the return.

To lighten the burden as soon as possible, our Indians conceal in the woods, for the return, a part of their provisions, which are only corn. But, if other Hurons find and steal it, or the bears or other animals eat it, or the rains rot it, -- which often happens, -- it is necessary to fast, and paddle every day, until either hunting or fishing gives them some relief. But if this navigation occur at the end of autumn, there is also the danger of finding the rivers frozen; and then they are compelled either to die of hunger and cold, or to spend six months in the woods; rather hunting to live than journeying to reach the desired country, -- where new difficulties for the spread of the Gospel are not lacking.

THIRD DIFFICULTY IN THE MISSIONS OF NEW FRANCE -- THE LANGUAGE.

It is strange thing to find oneself in a country where it is necessary to learn without a teacher, without books, and without rules, at an age already mature, a language which has no likeness to ours. There is hardly another nation which does not write; there are sciences for nearly everything; books, -- or, at least, many interpreters; sons of a European father and of a mother of the country, who facilitate the study of the foreign tongues.

But our Indians had neither one nor the other, and a great incapacity For learning our languages, -- which, if they could have learned them, would have served us because, they completing one half of the way, and we the other, we could more easily have met. But they, not knowing how to pronounce any labial letter, like B, F, L, M, P, X, Z, nor consonant I(?) and V, could not learn our languages, which are full of those letters, -- contrary to theirs, which have, especially the Huron, most of the words full of vowels; so that, to pronounce the same, it is not necessary to move the lips. The plan of theirs is different from ours, having more numbers, and more persons in each numbers, than we have, and inflections altogether unknown to the most learned of Europe, -- to say nothing of the pronunciation, and various combinations of letters unused with them, common with us, -- accents, breathings, and changes of tone, without which not only would great ambiguities occur in their language, but speech would be altogether unintelligible.

To learn these languages, great labors were necessary, both for the Huron language and the Algonquin, which are the two principal ones. The Huron language was the fruit of Father Brebeuf, who, when almost a man of forty, endured for more than three years the utmost contempt, seeking, amid ashes and smoke, this treasure. The Algonquin language, -- in addition to the help of an Apostate interpreter, -- was purchased with no ordinary journeys and perils.

Father Paul Le June saw that it was almost impossible to learn those languages unless by living alone among the Indians; he therefore decided to spend the winter with them in the woods, together with a Sorcerer of repute, whom he could not avoid, and with another, -- who having been taken, shortly before, to France, and instructed there, had afterward become an Apostate. He writes:

"We made in these great forests, from the 12th of November, 1633, when we went into them, until the 22nd of April, 1634, when we left them, 23 campsites. These were partly in deep valleys, partly on high mountains, and partly in a level country -- always, however, amid snows and in the woods, which were populated mostly with pines, cedars, and firs. We crossed a great many torrents, some rivers, and many lakes and ponds, frozen over.

See how we lodged. We made a great ditch in the snow, in which we planted 30 or 40 poles, which were obtained in the woods, and served to support the pieces of bark which formed for us a cabin, -- closed by some old skin which served us for door, and having for flooring some pine branches. One cannot stand upright in these cabins, -- not only on account of their lowness, but mainly on account of the smoke, which obliges us always to lie down. if you go forth from them, the snow, the cold, and the danger of fainting away, compel you to return there as soon as possible, and keep you in a free, but somewhat narrow prison; which has four quite appreciable inconveniences -- the cold, the heat, the smoke, and the dogs. As for the cold, one's head almost touches the snow, unless some little branch of pine protect you from it. The winds come in everywhere, besides through a rather large opening at the top of the cabin, which serves as chimney and window, -- through which, while sleeping at night, I saw the stars and the moon just as well as I would have seen them in an open country.

The cold, however, did not treat me as badly as did the heat of the fire, which was extinguished at night, when it was most necessary; but by day, at its greatest enthusiasm, it would roast us. Nor could I defend myself from it, because of the scantiness of the space, -- in which I could not stretch myself without putting my feet in the fire; and to stay continually cramped, with the feet crossed, is a posture which fatigues. This inconvenience is not so great for the Indians, who seat themselves like the Apes; they accustom themselves to this from childhood.

But a torment greater than the heat and the cold and the cramped posture, is the smoke, which continually draws tears from the eyes, without any grief or sadness of heart. We were often compelled to put our mouths to the ground to breathe. It was necessary to eat, as if were, the earth, so not to drink the smoke. I have therefore passed many hours, especially during intense cold, and while it was snowing. the Indians themselves are obliged then to yield; the smoke enters through the mouth, through the eyes, and through the nostrils. Oh, what a bitter beverage! Oh, what annoying vapor to the sight! Oh, what an evil smell! I thought I would lose my eyes there: they were inflamed like fire, and they distilled like an alembic. I could not see, except confusedly.

I said the Psalms of the Office as best I could, by memory. They appeared to me written with letters of fire or of scarlet, and I was often compelled to close the book, no longer seeing in it anything else than confusion. Do not say to me, "You should have gone out to take a little air." The air at those times was so cold that the trees, which have a harder skin than we, and harder bodies, could not resist it, splitting with a crack like that of a musket. I went out, with all this; but the snow and the cold, covered though I was, compelled me immediately to return to the cabin.

I do not know whether I ought to complain of the fourth discomfort, which was the company of the dogs, -- because at times they were of service to me, but with some recompense on my side. These poor animals, not being able to resist the cold, came to bestow themselves now on my shoulders, now on my feet; and though I had no more than a single cover, I did not deny them their part of that warmth which I received from them. Being large and numerous, they often annoyed me, and vexed me so much that, while giving me a little warmth, they robbed me of sleep, so that I was forced frequently to drive them away. The same thing once happened to me with an Indian, who wished to perform the same service to me.

Besides, these beasts were dying of hunger, like us and even more so; accordingly, they did nothing else but wander about in the cabin, -- finally passing over our faces with such vehemence that, weary of scolding them, I was at last compelled to cover my face, and tolerate them to scour about at their pleasure. If one threw some bone to them, when we had any, they would, by fighting for its possession, overturn everything for us, -- not to mention the violence with which they pushed to the ground our bark dishes, which they often tasted first, according to the ancient permission which they have from the Indians.

At first, -- not being able to accustom myself to food which was without salt, and filthy, -- I contented myself with a little smoked eel, which made me anticipate hunger, as my host had predicted; because, my appetite beginning to come, there was nothing left. We had already advanced into the woods, far from the French settlements, beyond the great Saint Lawrence River, which could not be crossed upon the floating ice, which would have broken not merely a canoe, but a vessel, into pieces.

Besides, the snow not being deep, as in other years, -- they could not take the great beasts, but only some beavers or porcupines, -- in such numbers and quantity that they rather prevented our death than preserved our life. My host urged me by saying: chibine, "Take courage; you will spend two or three days without eating; do not allow yourself to be dejected; but, when it snows, we shall eat." God, however, did not decree that we should stay so long without food; in two days, we ate once. An elkskin was deemed a sumptuous supper; I had used one for mending my robe, but hunger compelled me to unstitch and eat it.

We ate the dressed skins of the great beast [elk], though tougher than that of the eels. I would go into the woods to gnaw the tenderest part of the trees, and the softer bark. Other Indians, quite near, being famished like us, told us of the death of some of their number, killed by hunger. I saw many of them who, in five days, had eaten only once; they had all become like Skeletons.

They still marveled to see that I did not fear death. They are, as we have said, most patient, especially in hunger, when they hope finally to arrive where they may restore themselves; but, when they begin to lose all hope, they abandon one another, abandon everything, and, not concerning themselves for the public welfare, each one seeks to help himself as he can. In such conditions the children, the women, and anyone who does not know how to hunt, dies of cold and hunger. Among these, I would have been the first, if we had reached this extremity; and it was necessary to prepare oneself for it, because, if indeed they are not tormented every year with hunger, still, when there is not much snow there, the same dangers are always incurred.

The snow came toward the end of January, and our hunters captured some great beasts, and smoked their flesh, so much that it became as hard as a stick of wood, -- food so contrary to my stomach that it caused me to fall sick at the beginning of February. I was, besides, obliged to lie upon the bare ground, which increased my pains, as did also the snow, -- into which, on going forth often through necessity, I sank as far as the knees, and sometimes even to the waist. These pains, most acute, lasted about ten days, with great weakness of stomach; I recovered from them for a little while, but relapsed at the middle of Lent. I once asked for a little water, -- being thirsty; they answered me that there was none, other than from melted snow, which was harmful for my ailment; nor were they ever willing to go to a neighboring lake because of the difficulty, slight as it was, of the trip.

As for the food, they treat the sick like the others: if they find fresh meal, they share it with them; and if then the sick man does not eat of it, they do not keep any for him for the time when he might want it, but give him of what happens to be smoked or dry, which would horrify any healthy man in Europe. A soul which thirsts for the son of God -- that is, for suffering -- finds here with which to quench it. For conversation, I was in the company of a renegade, a kinsman of my host, and with a sorcerer of repute, a most vile man; they were among my greatest torments. The sorcerer hated me: first, because having invited me to spend the winter with him, I had refused him, preferring to him his younger brother; secondly, because I could not content his greed, -- which even came to the pass of stripping me of my cloak, to cover himself with it, -- and not being able to satisfy him in everything, he was offended. He hated me, thirdly, because, on seeing him act the prophet, I uncovered his frauds and foolish superstitions, which tended to diminish his credit, and, with the credit, the favors and gifts of his people fourthly, because, wishing to laugh at my expense, he made me write, under pretext of teaching me, infamous words, which he then had me read to the others, -- until, being warned of it by the women of the country, I vexed him by my constant refusal to write what he wished to dictate to me. His hatred was aroused, fifthly, by his envy at seeing me more loved by his brother and the other Indians than he supposed; and finally, because of the natural aversion which he had for the French nation.

All these reasons made me believe that I would not issue from there except by the gate of death; and one day I doubted it not at all, when I heard him speak of killing someone, and ask me whether I had some powder to make men die; but he wanted that for use against another Charlatan, from another nation, who was his enemy. I would make a whole book if I should relate the blasphemies which he vomited against God, and his contempt for me, as being God's Priest. I was often obliged to be silent for entire days, in order not to exasperate him.

The phrases which I learned best at that school were: "Hold your tongue!" "You have no sense;" "you are a proud fellow;" "Oh, what a dog!" "He looks like a Bear;" "He is bearded like a hare;" "foul;" "drunk;" etc., -- which are a part of those with which he described me."

Here the Father stops.

I omit the dangers undergone during his return, amid ice which several times came near submerging them in their boat of bark. I merely add that what we thought it might suffice to do but once for all, was afterward done many times, no longer in order simply to learn the language, but that we might not abandon without instruction and Sacraments, for six whole months, those good neophytes, who urgently implored us for that assistance. And in this work, incredible sufferings were undergone for several years by our Fathers, among others, Father Gabriel Druillettes, who for a time lost his sight there, and almost his life; and Father Charles Albanel, who was still there this last winter.

The fruit of these labors has been a fairly perfect knowledge of those languages. They are different from ours, but most beautiful and regular, which make us clearly see that God alone is the Author of that; it is impossible that so excellent a System, which surpasses that of all European languages, is the product of minds as rude and unversed in every science, as are the Indians. We now have grammars of them, dictionaries, and various books. Nor could we, with an indifferent knowledge of their Language, have explained to them our sublime mysteries, for they have no abstract nouns, and few substantives, and these indeclinable, -- using for adjectives verbs instead of nouns, which last among them are conjugated, not declined. The mere sign of the Cross has cost us about a year of study.

OTHER DIFFICULTIES IN THE CONVERSION OF THE INDIANS, ESPECIALLY OF THE HURONS.

I DO not speak of the intrinsic and great difficulties on their side, as their inveterate adherence, time out of mind, to their superstitions; the utmost license in granting divorces among the married; an incredible liberty of doing everything without any check of law, or any prohibition; the necessity of a truly substantial change, totius ix totum, to convert them, not from a poor religion to a good one, but from none to the true one. They were hindered by the obligation which a Christian incurred of renouncing not only all lawful recreations, but also remedies for diseases, -- since they found, although falsely, superstition in everything, -- and, finally, by the impossibility of being able to hold the offices of the country in connection with the Faith, -- the Captains having it for their office to invite and urge people to all the superstitious, and frequently indecent, ceremonies.

There are among these nations certain quasi sorcerers or diviners, who, from the first day when they saw us, recognized that our religion was totally opposed to their superstitions, whether true or imaginary; they were, therefore, the first to declare war upon us. Twice, at a time of extraordinary drought, which threatened the country with famine, they declared that it was the effect of a Cross which we had erected at our arrival in the country. But Father Brebeuf prevented them from felling the Cross, and from driving us out as Wizards, by promising them rain, -- if did not fell it, and also invoked with him a God-man. At both times, hardly was the Procession ended which was made for this purpose, when the desired rain was obtained.

This difficulty being in some measure smoothed, there occurred a firm persuasion that Baptism was a fatal spell. During a general disease, we baptized no others than those in danger, and the dying who were already instructed, who frequently died on receiving Baptism -- persuaded themselves that to receive Baptism, and the passport to the other life, were the same thing: and for this purpose they employed their former custom of threatening the children with water, as here in France they are threatened with blows.

It was a common opinion that we were the authors of a kind of disease which was not usual in the country, and almost utterly ruined it. They founded their suspicion, or rather, certain belief, first, on the ground that the supposed magicians and the principal men of the country assured them of it, and the people easily believe without other examination; secondly, on the ground that although, at the beginning, almost all of our Jesuits had been attacked by the disease at the same time, -- without a physician, or medicine, or convenience of provisions; without other refreshment than a little wild purslane, boiled in clear water without salt; in extreme necessity and lack of everything, -- they had in a few days convalesced, and recovered perfect health; but the Indians, with all their remedies, both natural and superstitious, nearly all died.

The Father who wrote the letter copied here, being asked what remedy he had employed for the many and dangerous wounds he had received from the Iroquois, answered that he had used only a most austere but necessary diet, and his teeth, -- with which, having no other instrument, he tore away even to the quick the putrid flesh, to eradicate the gangrene which was already forming in three places on his lacerated hands.

Because our Fathers remained almost all the time with the diseased, and those the most filthy and dangerous ones, and no one caught the contagion; so they accounted us Demons.

There had been started at Quebec a Seminary for Huron Youths, which we believed would be of great use for propagating our Holy Faith in the country; but there the young men have not great influence, and more easily allow themselves to be corrupted than to convert the others, so that, afterward, we preferred the mature men to the youths. To begin this, it was necessary to make great gifts to the parents of the Young men; and besides that, to persuade them to dwell with us. The Father who had charge of them told someone, in persuading him to remain at Quebec, that he warned him that perhaps on returning to his own country he would die in the universal disease, which was ruining it; many traders that year had been infected with the contagion; and the malady had already attacked many of those Indians. The young man, having returned to that country and seeing the spread of the disease, of course told the Captains that the Father who had wished to keep him at Quebec had predicted the same, -- so that he concluded that he was an accomplice and, with his companions, the author.

Some added that we had for this purpose brought from France a corpse, which we were carefully keeping in our house as something precious, -- making allusion to the Holy Sacrament of Communion, which we kept in our Chapel; they wished to visit and seek everywhere this corpse, the origin of the disease. They said the same thing about some images, etc.; the prayers that we made, and the masses which we said at an early hour, with closed doors; the litanies; even walking abroad, -- a new thing in those countries, -- were superstitions which we practiced to destroy them. It was necessary to stop a small striking clock, which served to regulate our time, -- for they regarded it as a Demon which, by striking, gave a sign to Death for killing them. They found a superstition even in a little streamer hung at the crest of a pine, and believed that the disease was cast from that flag, wherever the wind drove it; and because it turned about, now in one direction, now in another, they said, therefore, that there was no place untainted in the country; they supposed that we had enveloped the malady there, so as to carry it into the country.

"This disease," said many, "has not been engendered here; it comes from without; never have we seen Demons so cruel. The other maladies lasted two or three moons" (they estimate time by moons, like the Hebrews); "this has been persecuting us for more than a year. Our maladies had been content with one or two in a family; this, in many, has left no more than that number, -- and, in many, none at all. The loss from the old ones was repaired in a few years, of which we lost not the memory; this would require whole ages to repopulate us." I omit the fables which they spread abroad about persons come to life again, who accused and condemned us.

And this was not simply a popular opinion with people of small account, but it was that of the Captains themselves, and of the most intelligent men, who several times called a council to resolve upon the death of all of our Fathers, and came to announce it to us. Father Brebeuf, the Superior, was repeatedly examined in the public councils, and harshly treated; and thinking the matter already decided, he made, on the day when their execution was expected, and according to the usage of the country, a feast which they call "the Farewell." Every dying man makes this, whether he dies naturally, or by a violent death, like the captives, -- who, having received the news of their death, must say Farewell to their friends: and for this purpose the master of the captive prepares a feast, to which he invites the principal persons of the country, of whom the captive takes leave; a dying man does the same. Our Fathers did so to show themselves ready for death, which they did not fear; and they were expecting nothing else than the execution of the sentence which condemned them as sorcerers, and as the assassins of the entire country. Then an unlooked-for Ambassador came to invite Father Brebeuf to the council again, where the principal men of all those nations were assembled. After a long examination, and a still longer speech, though interrupted by the Father, -- who spoke more of the Faith than of the disease, warning them that not we, but the justice of God was the sole cause of their troubles, which would last until they appeased him with the requisite submission, -- they so changed their opinion that they sent him away, absolved.

Many -- despite the replies of some Captains who called him "a troublesome fellow, who was always repeating the same thing," "one unworthy to live," etc. -- requested of the Father, as he went out, to be instructed in the Faith; and on leaving the same cabin, he saw killed at his feet, with a hatchet-blow, a barbarian who was most hostile to the Faith. As it was getting late, the Father thought that the murderer had deceived himself, and had taken the dead man for him; he said to him, "Was it not perhaps for me that this blow was intended?"

"No," answered the other, "go on; this man was a sorcerer, and not you."

But as an opinion once rooted in the mind of a whole people is not easily eradicated, we could reasonably fear that some individual, exasperated by the death of his people, might make us the authors, and treat us like the fellow-countryman whom Father Brebeuf had seen fall at his feet.

Although threats were frequent, and hatchets repeatedly uplifted above their heads, yet always either there was someone found to restrain the blow, or the murderer himself, repentant, ceased from the undertaking. In consequence, there was nothing else to be suffered, beyond their labors, except atrocious insults and frequent, but ineffectual, threats of death. Although they were often driven out from the cabins with insults and threats, and the doors were shut in their faces, and with lies one said to them that he was not there, when he was, -- still, charity was so constant that it penetrated everywhere. God often employed children to guide them, those little innocents accusing their parents of lying, and saying to the Fathers, "Come in; there are some sick people here;" and serving them as guides for leading them elsewhere. As a result, although a great number of them died, almost no child died who was not first baptized, together with most of the adults. At this time our cabin burned, we do not know how: perhaps it was because of the threats of many who had promised to burn us all together, as sorcerers.

This opinion continued through a second malady, which attacked them in 1640; it lasted whole years, and everywhere extended itself to all classes. We were, in their belief, the cause of as many troubles as befell them; and they told us so to our faces. "And, since your arrival" (they said), "old people are no longer seen in the country. You are the ones who have depopulated us with disease; and if we suffer you yet a little, you will destroy us altogether."

When some Father went out to invite with a little bell, or with his voice, the country people to the sermon, at the same time some Captains hostile to the Faith went out to hinder them from going, often accompanying prohibitions with threats. Nor did they fear to interrupt the Preacher, -- now condemning him for a crazy fellow, now for a sorcerer, now for a declared enemy of their nation.

The insolence of the Captains inspired the people, and even the children, to imitate them, with an annoyance past belief for anyone who has not experienced it. What did they not ridicule? Where did they not persecute us? Some person of better sense, or some Christian trainee, or some Captain himself, was for us; but many did not dare to declare themselves; and, if anyone did so, it was without great result in comparison with the number and power of the adversaries. If the Fathers predicted to them some Eclipses of the Sun and of the Moon, -- which they fear, and, according to the region of the Sky where they occur, esteem them of good or evil omen, -- they persuaded themselves that, since we knew them, we were the authors of that, as of the shortages which follow after them. They believed that we might have prevented them; and they desired that, as we foretold the Eclipses to them, we should foretell their effects, even all their consequences.

All these opinions had new weight from the saying of some Indians, who had recently come into the country, called Wenros; who had formerly traded with the English, Dutch, and other heretical Europeans. From these, they said they had heard many times that we were wicked people, harmful to the public good, expelled from their countries, where, if they had us, they would put us to death; and that we had now fled to those lands to ruin them as soon as possible. But all these persecutions did not prevent the course of the Gospel, which here not only began, but continued and grew, with disasters.

With the Faith, the scourge of God came into the country; and as the one increased, the other smote them more severely, -- almost to the ultimate destruction of this poor nation, -- every year, new afflictions, new wars, new losses. In the families in which the Faith was greatest, the trials were also greatest. The first and the most fervent of our Christians, after many misfortunes, was at last unexpectedly slain by the enemies, -- as were also many others of those most fervent. Our hosts in various missions, commonly prosperous when they received us, received with us the scourge of God, -- usually losing in the same year either wife, or children, or some other of the nearest relatives; or encountering some disastrous accident. Many themselves died, either by shipwreck, or by fire, or by other calamitous deaths. The same persons who had cursed and persecuted us in their abundance, came, in their greatest losses of goods, relatives, friends, or health, to seek consolation from the persecuted, and the true remedy for their troubles, -- that is, the Faith. Consequently, the time of their greatest afflictions was for us the time of the greatest harvest; and when dying from hunger, or by fire, they invoked for their spiritual help those whom they had formerly regarded as the authors of their misfortune.

The number of Our neophytes would have been much greater, -- we would even at last have baptized the whole country, had we not sought something else than number and name. But we were not willing to receive a single adult, in a condition of perfect health, before we were informed about the language; and before we had judged them constant in observing the divine rules. Still, in the space of a few years about 12 thousand of them have been baptized.

We had predicted the Eclipse of the 30th of January, 1646, which began there an hour and a quarter before midnight; our Christians stood expecting it, and suddenly, when it appeared, one of the most fervent awoke some who were sleeping, by saying to them: "Come and see how truthful are our preachers; and strengthen yourselves in the belief of the truths which they preach to us." But a good Old man, a fervent Christian, wisely answered: "Go to see the Eclipse, whoever doubts the truth of the Faith. We have other assurances of it than sight, and our belief has better support."

Others, -- having met European heretics in their settlements, and being scolded for making the sign of the Cross, and for wearing rosaries about their necks, -- rather than to doubt their Faith for such reproaches, themselves scolded their censors for irreligion, with a liberty Christian; and still others, having seen, in new Sweden, some excessive freedom with certain women, did not fear to preach to the Europeans the virtue which they should have learned from them. To resist temptations, they have performed noble acts. It was a thing quite common among our neophytes to extinguish the fire of lust with the cold of the snows, in the greatest severity of winter.

DEATHS OF CERTAIN FATHERS OF THE JESUITS, IN THE MISSIONS OF NEW FRANCE.

I OMIT those who died in the sea-voyages, and in various shipwrecks: I will relate here only the deaths of some, which I have accounted especially remarkable.

DEATH OF FATHER ANNE DE NOUE

On the 30th of January, 1646, Father Anne de Noue left the residence at Three Rivers, in the company of two Soldiers and a Huron, to go to a French fort called Richelieu, about 40 miles away, for the purpose of saying mass there, for the soldiers of that garrison. All the rivers and lakes were frozen, and the earth, as usual at that season, was covered with five feet of snow; consequently, to journey, it was necessary to use snowshoes, to not sink into the snows, with great toil, especially for anyone who is not accustomed to that. They did not therefore accomplish, on the first day, more than 16 or 18 miles, -- that is, the half of the way, -- and spent the night, as usual in those countries, in a great ditch which they made in the snow, without other cover or roof than the Sky.

The Father, who had noticed the difficulty which his companions had in walking with the snowshoes, -- loaded with their blankets, arms, provisions, etc., -- wished to precede them to notify the soldiers of the fort, so that they might come to the aid of their companions. This charity cost his life. He starts, accordingly, two hours after midnight, and takes with him neither materials for kindling a fire, nor blanket for night, -- not expecting to stop, in so short a journey. He walks over the ice of the lake without other company, without other light than that of the Moon. But all at once the Sky becomes clouded, the light fails him, and the snow begins to fall in great abundance. He no longer sees either the shores of the lake, or the Islands, which are there in great number. He had neither compass nor needle. He walked much and advanced little. Toward dawn, his companions resume their journey; but they do not see the Father's tracks, the freshly-fallen snow having covered these.

Not knowing which road to take for the fort, one of them, who had gone there once before, tries to conduct them there again, with the aid of the needle; but they spent the whole day in vain, and had to pass the night on an Island which we call Saint Ignace. The Huron, -- although new in those countries, -- as being accustomed to travel in the woods and amid the snows, clearly saw that his instinct would guide him better than the compass; and at night he found the fort, and immediately asked news of the Father. No one has seen him; they wait for daylight -- some to go to seek him, others to bring their companions, whom the Huron had left on the Island; the latter was not difficult, on account of the certain clues which they had from the Huron.

But, in seeking the Father, they went uselessly astray by turning here and there, and shouting, therefore spending the whole day. Finally, on the second of February, an expert and courageous soldier, together with two Hurons out of four who then happened to be there, went as far as the place where the Father had spent the first night with his companions; and the place being found, the Hurons, practiced in discerning even the tracks covered again with snow, tracked those of the Father. Following these, they found the place where he had passed the second night, -- without fire, in the snow upon some boughs of trees, without any clothing except an old cassock and undershirt. From that point, crossing the great river, he had passed near the fort which he was seeking, without seeing it, -- blinded either by the snow or by weakness, as he had not taken any food, except perhaps a few prunes.

Three miles beyond, they found a place where he had rested; and finally, about ten miles farther, they found him kneeling upon the ground, which he had laid bare round about. He was frozen with cold; his head was uncovered, his eyes open toward the Sky, and his arms crossed upon his breast, leaning a little against the snow, -- perhaps from the weight of his body, which bent forward there as life failed him along with his strength. The Soldier, filled with devout respect at seeing him in that position, knelt down; and having wrapped him in a blanket, dragged him over the snow, with the help of the Hurons, as far as Richelieu, and from there to Three Rivers, from where he had started.

We account it certain that he died not from hunger, -- which it is not a new thing there to suffer during three and four whole days, -- but from cold. Nor is it a difficult matter to believe this, at a season when the cold is so acute that the bare hands attach themselves to the iron which they touch, -- and I have proved this repeatedly. Indeed, I have heard that a wolf in the woods, licking a hatchet smeared with fat (which is cut with these tools), and then frozen, had left there the skin of its tongue. I have myself experienced on journeys, while sweating with toil, the hardship of finding myself with my face half frozen, and a beard of ice, which is sometimes formed in less than two minutes. I have seen a pot full of ice put by the fire, and the half which was toward the fire would boil, and the other half remain solid as rock. Besides, we Europeans are more sensitive to that piercing cold, which every year kills some Indians. He died, as is believed, on the day of the Purification of the Blessed Virgin.

He spent in these missions sixteen years with great fervor and humility; and because memory did not aid him in the study of those languages, -- as he was of a somewhat advanced age, -- he applied himself wholly to the service of the Indians and of anyone who was instructing them. He engaged in the most laborious and humble offices, especially in time of hunger, -- seeking wild roots, fishing, and taking the place of the lowest servants. He was most punctual in obedience; almost at the age of seventy we have seen him weep like a child, fearing, in some matter, that he had not perfectly divined the Superior's intention.

Seeing him grown old, it was proposed to him to return to France, where he would not have suffered so much in his declining age; and persons of high rank showed a great desire to see him again. But he answered: "I know that I am burdensome to the Mission, in holding the place of a good workman; and for this reason I am prepared to give it up, and unburden the Mission. But I have so great an aversion to return; and my sole desire is to die here, serving the Indians and whoever aids them even to the end." This desire had caused him several times to cross the seas, -- having been, along with those first Fathers, taken back to Europe by the English; but, with great fervor and constancy, he obtained leave to return.

DEATH OF FATHER CHARLES GARNIER.

IN the mountains of the Petun nation, we had two Missions, and, in each of these, two of our Fathers. The one most exposed to the enemies, as also its principal Village, was called Saint Jean. Here Father Charles Garnier, an indefatigable laborer in these Missions, had given many labors; here it was necessary that he should shed his blood. A certain fugitive prisoner from the enemies' country had warned us of their plan of invading either our Island or the mountains of Saint Jean; and the people there kept themselves for some days in battle array, to receive them courageously, -- and, as they hoped, to defeat them easily; these were people of courage, and accustomed to war. But, at last growing weary of so much waiting, they decided to go to meet them, to attack them first, and to surprise them. They started, for this purpose, on the 5th of December, but by another route than what the enemies took; the enemies, having taken two captives near that country, learned from these how destitute it was of the forces of those who had gone out to meet them. Accordingly, so not to lose so favorable an opportunity, they make haste; and on the 7th of December, about the 20th hour, they appear at the gates of Saint Jean, so suddenly that, terror having seized the hearts of the inhabitants, instead of resisting, they thought of flight. But this was in vain for most, who were either taken prisoner or slain by the sword, or by fire, -- which they kindled on all sides to expedite their work, fearing the return of the warriors. They therefore practiced, in a short time, savage cruelties, -- especially upon the children, whom they tore from their mothers' breasts to throw them alive into the fire.

Father Charles Garnier was at that time alone there of our Jesuits; nor would he hear mention of fleeing, as some friend advised him to do. He wished, like the others, to die while administering the Sacraments. And he did so until he received from the enemies a musket shot with three balls, -- one of which wounded him in the stomach, another in the breast, the third in his thigh. This threw him to the ground; and soon afterward -- rousing himself from a profound sleep, and looking about him -- he saw one wounded like himself, to whom he thought he could give some spiritual aid. He arose, and took, half kneeling, two steps to approach him; but falling back in a strange manner, he had to stop there until, recovering strength, he made a second and a third effort to die in the exercise of that charity which he had always practiced in life.

We know no other details of his death, because the good Christian woman, who was a spectator of what has been told, was then wounded in the head with a hatchet-blow, fell, and was left there for dead. But she recovered from it, and told us the preceding. But the Father's body had, besides the musket wounds, the head cut open, from both temples even to the brain.

The two Fathers who were in the neighboring Mission received the poor fugitive Christians all night; and on the following morning they went to St. Jean, to bury the body of their dear companion, -- where they saw with their own eyes the effects of the Indian enemy's cruelty. They looked for that blessed body in vain, for a time; but at last they recovered it, naked, among many others which were half roasted; nor would they have known it, -- so disfigured it was, -- but for the help of some good Neophytes, who alone distinguished their dear Father from the others. To bury him, the two Fathers both stripped themselves of a part of their own clothing; and they immediately returned from there with their companions, who, for fear of the enemies, hurried away.

The warriors of St. Jean returned two days later; and being informed of their disaster by the blood and the corpses of the weakest (whom the enemies killed on the way, as a dangerous encumbrance), spent, according to their custom and that of the ancients, the day in a profound silence, -- prostrated to the earth without lifting their eyes, and almost without motion, like statues of marble or of bronze, -- leaving tears and lamentation to the women.

Father Charles Garnier was a native of Paris. He died at the age of 44 years, 25 of which he had spent in the Jesuits, and 13 in these missions.

DEATH OF FATHER NOEL CHABANEL.

HE was the sixth who died in this Mission by violent death, like the others, yet, as is most probable, not by the same murderers. Father Noel was a companion of Father Garnier; but two days before the arrival of the enemies he had started, by order of the Superiors, from Saint Jean for the fixed residence of Saint Marie, -- partly due to the famine, which was extreme at Saint Jean, for which reason it could with difficulty support two persons in charge; partly so not to expose, in those most dangerous times and places, two persons. Returning therefore where obedience was recalling him, he was, after 18 or 20 miles of exceedingly bad road, overtaken by night in the woods, together with 7 or 8 Huron Christians. These, being weary from the journey, fell asleep; the Father alone watched in prayer. Toward midnight, he hears fierce voices and confused shouts, -- partly from the victorious expedition, which had on the same day taken the Village of St. Jean; partly from the poor captives, who were singing, according to their custom, songs of war. The Father awakens his companions, who hastily flee away into the most secret places of the woods, -- some here, some there, withdrawing from the road, which the enemy held. These fugitives, arriving from the Petun nation, reported that the Father had followed them for a time, but that, feeling his strength fail, he said: "No matter if I die here; this life is a small thing; the happiness of Paradise is the true good, which cannot be taken from me by the Iroquois."

At Dawn, the Father resumes the way to Saint Marie; but, after some journeying, he encounters a river, which hinders his passage. This report was given us by an Apostate Huron, who added that he enabled him to cross the river in his canoe, and retained, for landing him (as he said), his hat and his writings, together with a blanket, which serves in those countries for a mantle by day and a bed by night. What befell him afterward, we do not know, whether he were killed by the enemies, whether he went astray in the woods, whether he died of cold or hunger, or were betrayed by the man who gave us the last news of him and was wearing his spoils. In this case, this is the most probable, not to say certain; nor is it difficult to believe of an Apostate who had boasted, a little before, that he would kill one of us.

Father Noel was of the Province of Toulouse. He died at the age of 36 years, 19 in Religion, and 6 of residence in those countries.

DESOLATION OF THE COUNTRY OF THE HURONS, AND REMOVAL OF THE HURON MISSION TO QUEBEC.

THE cruelty of the Indian conqueror of our Christians in their own country threw such a terror into their hearts that many fled to the farthest depth of the woods; others, upon the barren rocks of the freshwater sea, -- preferring precipices and abysses to the fire of the Iroquois. Others relied on a nation which we called "neutral," since it was then at peace with both sides; others, to the mountains of the Petun nation. The few who remained urged us to stay with them, without retreating farther, -- the infidels promising us to become Christians, and the Christians to be constant in the Faith until death. That we might accommodate all, some of us went back to the fugitives on the rocks of the freshwater sea (Lake Huron), and into the woods, 300 miles and more, to console them; others, to the mountains of the Petun nation. The rest of us employed ourselves -- uniting ourselves with those few, in the hope of winning back others of the scattered people. These had chosen for their refuge, an Island in the freshwater sea, 24 or 25 miles away from us. We were therefore obliged to follow them, and ourselves to set fire to that little which we had built up in the space of 9 or 10 years, in the way of a house and a Church, fearing in case the enemies should profane those places of Holiness. We called this Island St. Joseph; and the fixed residence, which we transferred there, by the name of the first, -- the Residence of Ste. Marie. These forests received us and furnished us materials for fortifying ourselves, together with our Indians, against our common enemies.

We had with us some laymen, to the number of 40, who, without hope of any worldly recompense, served this Mission; plying every sort of trade, each one according to his proper capacity, -- and all the capacity of soldier, to defend those poor fugitives from the incursions of those pitiless foes. All, with the Indians, so applied themselves to the work that in one summer we found ourselves regularly defended, as well as our Christians, who in a short time gathered there from various quarters, so that they could receive with safety the instructions necessary for the increase of their faith. But there is not in this life any good without its counterpart of evil. This culmination of all our labors brought with it, in part, the ruin of the country, which, as it was new, and could not be sufficiently cultivated in so short a time, -- especially by starving people, and those occupied also in housing and fortifying themselves, -- could not grow enough to feed so many people, famished and oppressed by a thousand misfortunes which had begun the year before. In consequence, despite the many donations that we gave, -- 800 bags, half of corn, half of acorns, which at that time were esteemed a delicious food, and which we took from our own mouths, -- we could not prevent hundreds of them from dying in the winter by hunger.

In the summer, many had rather postponed death than prolonged life, by living either in the woods on a few bitter roots and wild fruits; or on the rocks, on some little fish -- which they caught by stealth, for fear of the enemies. But in the winter, -- when the earth was covered with 5 or 6 feet of snow, and the lakes and rivers were frozen, -- unable to obtain any aid from either the land or the water, they were reduced to an extreme misery. It was a frightful thing to see, instead of men, dying skeletons, walking more like shadows of the dead than like bodies of the living; and feeding themselves on what nature has most in abomination, -- exhuming the corpses (which we buried with our own hands, the relatives of the dead often lacking the strength to do so), to nourish themselves, and eat the leavings of foxes and dogs.

The Hurons, before having the light of the Faith, ate the dead bodies of their enemies; but they always had, no less than the Europeans, a horror of eating their own people. But on this occasion necessity exceeded all laws: a certain brother ate his dead brother; a mother, her dead sons; and the sons, after death, did not recognize or respect the corpses of their own fathers. It was a quite frequent spectacle to see two little children still sucking the dry breasts of their dead mother, the mothers dying with their children in their laps; or to see them die at the breast which was offered even to the largest; one after the other, to draw from there blood rather than milk, -- but with so great and so Christian resignation that it drew from the eyes tears. We have seen the dying come to ask from us Baptism, as a passport to the other life, -- blessing us at a time when it seemed that impatience should have drawn every malediction from their lips.

Many asked us to bury them while still breathing, for fear of being devoured by their people, or at least left naked, -- a thing which they esteem more shameful in death than in life. Instructions, sermons, administrations of the Sacraments, were never more frequent; nor had they received with more devotion not only the feasts, but also the working days; these, with visits to the sick and the burial of the dead, were the daily occupations of our Fathers. To these evils was added the fear of the enemies, which caused us to watch whole nights, so not to be taken unawares, as in the year before. But the enemy, knowing the fortifications that were made, and the vigilance and order which were observed on the Island, turned their arms elsewhere. Many who, aided by our donations, escaped the scourge of hunger, were attacked by a contagious disease, which in a few days made great slaughter, especially among the children.

There remained nothing but war to ruin them altogether, and this happened; and therefore they were at the same time smitten with all three scourges. For, as soon as the ice began to melt and the earth to become bare, our dying people went out from the Island, in which they had been besieged by hunger, to seek for its relief, in the water there, certain kinds of fish. But, where they thought to recover life, they received there either slavery or death; and instead of dying by hunger, many died by fire. These were seized by the enemies, who were surrounding them on all sides, especially at night, without any resistance, -- our Hurons being divided into several bands from necessity; and burdened with women and children, who served only to augment the terror and the confusion. Besides, there came news of two hostile bands that were on their way to make havoc, one with the fields, the other with the people.

Two of the eldest Captains came to find us, in secret; and to the Superior, together with certain other Fathers, they made the following speech:

"Brother, your eyes deceive you when you look at us; You think that you see living men, and we are nothing but ghosts, and souls of the dead. This Land which you treat is not solid; it will open soon to swallow us, and to put us among the dead, among whom we already consider ourselves. This night, in a secret council, it has been decided to abandon it before it opens. Some retreat to the woods, accounting themselves more secure among the wild beasts than when exposed to the Iroquois; others are going away, 6 days' journey toward the North, upon the rocks of the freshwater sea (Lake Huron), with the Algonquins; others to new Sweden, 500 miles away. Still others openly say that they will take their wives and children to the country of the enemies, where they will find many of their captive relatives, who urge them to flight unless they will utterly perish.

"And what will you do alone in this Island? Have you come here for the cultivation of the earth, or of souls? Will you preach the faith to these oaks or these pines? Have perhaps these lakes and these rivers ears to listen to you, or sense to understand you? Where will you go? Whom will you follow? Can you accompany a people which scatters itself into so many countries? Most of these fugitives will find death, where they think to find life; but though you had a hundred bodies, to divide yourself in a hundred places -- you could not do so without being heavy and burdensome to them, and soon even an object of hatred. Hunger will attend them everywhere, and they will not be exempt from the scourge of war. What is the remedy?

"You must save the remains of this ruined country. You have seen more than 10 thousand of us dead at your feet; if you wait a little longer, not one of us will be left; and vainly you will grieve for not having saved at least what you could. It is not necessary to deliberate longer; it is necessary to depart, and to convey these remains of the Huron Church to the shadow of the fort of Quebec, -- and that as soon as possible, now that everyone is fleeing, so not to await the arrival of the enemy."

This transaction was too important not to require thought, and neither one day nor two, nor ten, were sufficient to settle it. To leave a country so much desired, a Country which we regarded as the key to so many missions to a thousand unknown peoples; and where we had, besides 6 missions in the Huron language, 5 for various nations of Algonquins, was not a small affair. On the other side, the reasons of the Indians appeared to us unanswerable and convincing. What was to be done?

It appears to us that God has spoken by the mouth of those Captains. They were telling the truth; the country of the Hurons was no longer anything but a place of horror and slaughter, and appeared uninhabitable. Wherever we looked, we encountered both hunger and war; and we hoped to be able to save many of them when near the French settlements, with greater facilities for instructing them in the Faith, in which they were still new. It was therefore necessary to yield, acknowledging ourselves convinced by the Indians' reasons. And because the enemy was not asleep, it was necessary to hurry the execution of the plan to the utmost, before he laid snares for us on the way.

We abandoned, therefore, that dear country. Our only consolation was to take with us about 300 persons of a nation formerly most populous, but now almost utterly ruined. These unhappy remnants did not, in the loss of their possessions, their native Country, and their relatives, lose the Faith, -- which in this last year had been given by baptism to more than three thousand persons. We departed from the Hurons at the beginning of May; and after 900 miles of march, -- amid various hardships and perils, and frequent shipwrecks, -- we all finally arrived in perfect health, on the 28th of July, 1650, at Quebec, where soon afterward, about 300 others followed us.

Here, the Governor, a certain private citizen, and the two Convents of Nuns, burdened themselves with some families; still, the bulk of the load fell upon our shoulders; we assigned ourselves the spiritual and worldly interests of the remnant, whom God has not allowed to die of hunger. But on this account, it has been necessary to relieve the mission of some laborers, -- especially since they are not, in this scarcity of people, indispensable as before.

The world will not end until the Gospel has been preached everywhere. Westward from the Hurons, even to the sea of China, are innumerable nations, so it is necessary that the Gospel one day reach there; even though all these missions should cease for a time. As it is, there still remain in Canada about 30 Fathers for various missions, both stationary and traveling, -- at Tadoussac, toward the English, among the Atikamekw, etc. -- besides the College of Quebec and the Residences at Sillery, Three Rivers, and Montreal.

YEAR 1653
NEW FRANCE, FROM THE SUMMER OF 1652 TO 1653. LETTER FROM THE FATHER SUPERIOR FRANCOIS LE MERCIER OF THE MISSION TO THE REVEREND FATHER PROVINCIAL.

A VESSEL CAPTURED BY THE ENGLISH, AND THE MEMOIRS REFERRED TO IN THE PRECEDING LETTER.

THE Father to whom the above memoirs had been entrusted, was taken prisoner by the English on the seventeenth of December last. The soldiers who had taken possession of the vessel that was bearing him searched and plundered him, as well as the rest; they robbed him of his little Chapel, and pillaged him even of his prayer book, sparing neither Chalice nor Missal, nor sacerdotal ornaments, nor even a wretched blanket which he used at night, the nights being rather cold and long. They opened all the packages and unfolded all the papers, hoping to find some pieces of money; but, being disappointed in their hopes, they tore up some of the papers and threw the rest into the sea or else on the ship's deck, where all the people were walking about, pell-mell, -- victors and vanquished, the humbled and the Insolent. The poor Father quietly gathered up what he could of letters, papers, and memoirs, -- some of them being in tatters, and others as dirty as if they had been taken out of the mud. The best dressed of the French were stripped quite naked, and forced to cover themselves with old rags. They passed the nights under the deck, without any other mattress than the filth and dirt which was caused by a crowd of Soldiers, Sailors, and Passengers, and was steeped in the sea-water which came in through the port-holes, and ran along between the two decks, to serve as beds and blankets to those poor vanquished souls. At last the ship was brought to Plymouth in England.

Here our Frenchmen, meeting with some vessels and Captains from their own country, subject to the same misfortune, were seized with a fresh grief. Scarcely had their ship entered the harbor, when it was surrounded on all sides by boats and gondolas filled with merchants, who immediately came up on deck to purchase from the soldiers the fruits of the pillage and theft just committed by them. The Father saw his prayer book sold at Auction, the purchaser not asking whether it was for the use of Rome or of some other Diocese. The piety of those worthy people consists in having money, and in obtaining it from things sacred, as well as from things profane. Our Frenchmen saw their little belongings put up at auction, and most of the passengers lost in one day what they spent several years in gaining in New France. Some of them said that the loss of this ship might reach as high as 150,000 gold coins.

There is no place in the universe, except Hell, where there are not found some good people, or some persons of a good disposition. Some Englishmen approached the Father and gave to him a small gift of charity. It is a harsh and trying experience to suffer shipwreck in port, as the saying is. This poor Father and all the passengers and sailors of the same ship, after they had endured the fatigues of the sea during a long voyage, and when they were not far from their native land, saw themselves miserably captured and carried off by those who did not bear the name, although they displayed all the conduct, of enemies. To conclude, after the English had kept the Father for some days at Plymouth, they sent him over to Havre de Grace, at the request of some French Captains whose vessels had been captured and brought into this same port. This is how we received the fragments of the memoirs that were sent to us.

MONTREAL.

THE extraordinary assistance that was sent to this settlement by the last shipment gave joy not only to the French who live there, but also to the whole country. Certain persons of merit, having given the means to raise a suitable company of workmen, sent over to Montreal more than a hundred worthy Artisans, all well versed in the trades that they professed, and all men of courage for war.

The Fathers of our Jesuits who are at this settlement observed that the Iroquois were incessantly striving to obtain it, making sallies into the Island, continually laying ambushes, and holding our French so closely besieged that no one ventured upon a walk, to even the least distance, without manifest danger of losing his life, -- as was shown by what happened to one poor wretch, who, because he did not obey the orders that were given him, unhappily fell into the hands of these hunters of men.

A solemn vow was made to petition God either to stay the fury of these enemies, or to exterminate them, if he foresaw that they were unwilling to be converted or yield to reason. From then on, not only did the Iroquois not gain any advantage over us, but they even lost many of their own number in their attacks; and God's hand was finally so heavy upon them that they sued for peace.

The protection of God was, on a certain occasion, made evident in a peculiar way. Twenty-six Frenchmen were surrounded by two hundred Iroquois and would have surely lost their lives. The Indians discharged their pieces at them from a position of close proximity; and two hundred shots were fired by them, without killing or wounding one of our men. It was not that they did not handle their weapons well. But it was God's will that He turned aside the enemy's bullets, and directed those of the French so well that they caused many of their Assailants to fall, and put to flight those who escaped death or serious wounds. I have read in a letter that the routes taken by them in their flight were found all covered with their blood; and that, a considerable time after their departure, the dogs kept bringing back fragments of human bodies to the French settlement.

There has not passed a single month of the year in which these Hunters have not visited us by stealth and tried to surprise us. But finally, on the twenty-sixth of June, there appeared sixty of them, belonging to those who are called by the Hurons, Onondagas, requesting from afar a safe-conduct for some of their number, and calling out that they were sent on behalf of their whole Nation to learn whether the hearts of the French would be inclined to peace.

It is strange how much confidence these Infidels have in our word, although they are well aware that they have betrayed us almost as often as they have negotiated with us, and that consequently they deserve like usage. Our Frenchmen were planning to deceive them, and to put these treacherous and deceitful people to the sword; but, when they saw them advancing unarmed and defenseless, such frankness softened their hearts and made them believe that God had granted the prayers for help against so faithless and powerful an enemy.

When they had entered the Fort of our French people and had declared the purposes and wishes of their Nation, you would have said, -- since nothing was any longer talked about but confidence and peace and good will, -- that they had never waged any war, and that they were unwilling ever to begin it again. Our Frenchmen were, still, always under arms and ready to fight, although those simple people were in our midst with out rod or staff, satisfied with the mere word that had been given them for their sole defense.

They were treated with kindness; their presents were received, and others given them in return; and after a public rejoicing on both sides, they returned to their own country, overcome with joy at having found minds and hearts desirous of peace. I find in some memoirs that they gave their promise that news should soon be heard from them; and we have received word that some from that Nation came down to Quebec with presents, as will be seen in the fifth Chapter, where the peace is described. As for those of whom we are speaking at present, on their way back, they visited the Village of Oneida and displayed, before the Inhabitants of that Village, the presents that had been given them at Montreal. They said a thousand things in favor of the French: "They are," said they, "Demons when they are attacked, but the gentlest, most courteous, and most affable people in the world, when they are treated as friends." They declared they were going to contract a close alliance with them.

The Oneidas, wishing to be parties to it, sent an Embassy to Montreal, with a large wampum collar, declaring that all their Nation wished to enter into the treaty of peace that the Onondagas had begun with the French. And, to give some proof of their sincerity, they informed us that six hundred Mohawk Iroquois had set out from their country with the purpose of capturing the Village built by the French at Three Rivers. This was found to be true.

After this change of disposition on the part of the Iroquois, and after the parley of these two Nations, a band of Mohawk Iroquois invaded the Island of Montreal for the purpose of molesting the French in their usual manner. A gallant company of Christian Hurons, arriving unexpectedly, discovered their trail, and gave such hot chase after these hunters, on the day of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin, that they made prisoners of the Captain of the skirmishers and four of his principal followers, putting the rest to rout. That capture contributed to the general peace of all these tribes.

THREE RIVERS.

I SHALL present the contents of some letters that have come from this Village:

"Captain Aontarisati," says one of these letters, "whom our Indians captured last year, was so deeply lamented by all the villages of the lower Iroquois, his fellow-countrymen, that as soon as the news of his death reached them, a general league was formed, and a resolution taken to exact a bloody vengeance for his loss. The murder of Sir Guillaume Guillemot, our Governor, and of many of the chief men of our Village, did not glut their rage; the horrible torments that they made all their prisoners undergo, French as well as Indian, failed to extinguish the fire of their wrath. They issued an edict throughout their whole country that no one should spare the life of any Huron taken in war; and this order they afterward executed upon some wretched victims who fell into their hands. But all this seemed a small matter to them; in their opinion, it was necessary, to console them for the loss of so great a man, to take the Village of Three Rivers and put to fire and sword all the French and all the Indians that they might find there.

"To carry out this purpose, a little army of Mohawks came and took up its Winter quarters at the distance of 7 miles from our village, in the depths of the wood, -- thinking to surprise us when the heavy snows and intense cold should make us think of rest rather than of war. But God caused us to discover the tracks of their spies, who had advanced to within 2 miles from our Village. That put us on the defensive: we fortified our Bastions and curtain-walls, doubled our guards and sentinels, and kept ourselves so carefully protected that the Enemy, whose numbers we did not know, finding no more game in the vicinity of the fort which they had constructed, were forced to disperse and go in search of provisions to their own country; but they did not remain there long.

"As soon as the river was free, we saw on all sides nothing but little bands of skirmishers trying to surprise some hunter or some farmer, and to draw into their ambushes those who should wish to save these. Our Indians, seeing themselves so hemmed in and so often harassed, took courage, choosing rather to die fighting than to be surprised, as occasionally happened to some Frenchman or to some of their own fellow-countrymen. They decided to put a stop to the insolence of these Trasos [boasters], who came to defy us almost at our doors. God gave them his blessing; for, although they were few in number, they often chased some rather large bands, and compelled them to abandon their arms, their boats, and their baggage, to seek safety in the woods.

"On the ninth of May, a little Algonquin canoe, catching sight of an ambush concealed under shelter of the Islands of Three Rivers, took flight as fast as its paddles could urge it, -- not to avoid an engagement, but to put ashore, on a cape where some Frenchmen were entrenched, a woman who was in their little boat. As soon as she was in safety, they faced about toward the enemy that pursued them, although they were only three men in that little gondola, while the Iroquois filled three of their large canoes. When these Iroquois saw the determination of our three warriors, who were trying to board them, they were so surprised and astounded that they took flight, thinking that others might pursue them, now that they were discovered.

"On the thirteenth of the same month, Sir de Lauson, Governor for his Majesty of the whole country, came to visit our Village. At the same time that the cannon fired a salute in his honor, four or five farmers, who were plowing in the neighboring field, were surrounded by a band of Iroquois, who killed two of them. Our Indians pursued them, but a little too late, -- finding only the baggage of these robbers, which they had abandoned to run more freely and put themselves the sooner out of danger of being caught.

"On the twenty-eighth, these Hunters having killed a little French child, almost within gunshot of our settlement, the cannoneer, seeing that there was no one to pursue them, discharged a piece of artillery, to give the signal; but the cannon burst, and broke one of this poor man's legs; he died from his wound, a few days later.

"On the thirtieth, this same band surprised a young Huron, whom some farmers had posted as sentinel at the edge of the wood, while they worked in the field. They led him to a retired spot, about a mile from the Village, where they made him sit down, to question him on our location and learn the state of our affairs. This good lad was adroit; and he talked with them in such ways that these brigands, not thinking they might be followed, tarried there a little too long for their own good; for our Hurons, coming upon them by surprise, not only made them release their prey, but also took some of them prisoners and carried these back to the fort. I would take too much time if I tried to relate all the attacks, pursuits, and captures that were made on both sides in the neighborhood of this Village. Let us come to the siege, which they carried on after their usual method.

"Although the Indians do not carry on sieges in the manner of the Europeans, yet they do not lack generalship in their wars, of which I will give an instance. The Mohawk Iroquois, intending to capture the Village of Three Rivers by surprise rather than by force, sent in the first place, as far as I can infer, some small bands, detached from their main body, to Montreal and toward Quebec. This was to engage the attention of our Frenchmen and make them unwilling to go down -- or up, as the case might be -- to Three Rivers; and by this means to cut off the aid that it might have been possible to render the place which they wished to capture.

"That done, they came and hid themselves, to the number of five hundred, in a cove that is near the Village of Three Rivers; they were covered by the point forming that cove, so that they could not be perceived. At nightfall, they divided into three bands, sent a canoe with ten men to some small Islands near the fort an the Village of Three Rivers, and caused eleven canoes to proceed to the farther side of the great river, opposite this fort. The rest concealed themselves in the woods behind our Village. In this disposition of their forces their purpose was as follows:

"Seeing some Indian corn planted on those little Islands, they thought that those to whom this corn belonged would come in the morning to work in their fields, according to their custom; and that the ten men in ambush would capture one of these and carry him away in their little boat, passing in front of the fort, to incite the French to pursue them; and then the eleven canoes that were concealed on the other side of the river would come to the rescue. Then, they imagined, the French would get excited, come out of their Village, and rush in crowds to the banks of this great river, partly to embark and put to rout these twelve canoes, partly to see the engagement; and while these were engaged, -- some in fighting, and others in looking on, -- the main body, concealed behind the Village, would easily surprise it, as it would be emptied of most of its Inhabitants. But the thing did not succeed according to their intention; for our Indians, to whom that corn belonged, did not go away from their cabins on that day, which was the twentieth of August; and so no one moved, -- they remaining in hiding, and we being unaware that we had such bad neighbors.

"On the following day, some cattle having gone astray, the French Inhabitants asked some Indians to go and look for them in the woods, or on the banks of the great river. Those who took it upon themselves to execute this commission, retraced their steps in a short time, saying they had seen traces of a great many people, and that the enemy was not far away. At the same time, some harvesters, leaving their work, came running toward the Village, declaring that they had seen new faces, -- those of people dressed in an unusual manner, who were keeping themselves hidden in the woods. Spies were sent out; but, as they discovered nothing, this information was attributed to ill-founded fears or panic.

"On the twenty-second of the same month, the men returned to the work of harvesting; and to give security to the harvesters, some sentinels were placed on the edge of the woods. The Iroquois, growing impatient, rushed out upon one of these sentinels, for the purpose of learning the condition of our settlement. This man took to his heels; but they overtook him, and gave him two or three blows on the head with clubs or hatchets, hurting him severely, although these blows were not mortal. There was then no longer any doubt that the enemy were in the field, or, rather, in the forests.

"On the twenty-third, they appeared on the water as well as on the land. The canoe that had hidden among the Islands, seeing that no one appeared, left its post to cross the river and go to join those eleven boats which the enemy had placed in ambush on the other bank. We chased after it, not so much to fight with it as to find out, by its means, whether the enemy were many in number. But, as we could not overtake it, the Captain of the fort sent an armed sailboat, well manned, up the river.

"Scarcely had our people proceeded a half mile from the fort, when they perceived a large number of canoes that had stranded in a cove; they discharged their firearms at these, and immediately resumed their course toward the fort. The Drummer, whom I had ordered to give some drum-beats in case the sailboat should discover the enemy, called me back into the fort; as I approached it, I saw a great number of Iroquois running with loose rein, as the saying is, across the fields, and acting as if they were coming to attack the Village. I called to arms, had the gates closed and two pieces of ordnance discharged, which I had arranged for this purpose. Those Barbarians, at the noise of this thunder, rushed upon the cattle that were passing near the Village, drove them into the woods, and, after butchering them, ran to the banks of the great river, discharging their muskets at our sailboat. The sailboat found itself attacked on all sides; for the eleven or twelve canoes came and pounced upon it, trying to force it to approach the shore, so it could be beaten both by land and by water. Fire was opened on all sides, and soon the air was full of flames and smoke. In a quarter of an hour, I had more than twenty cannon shots fired, -- which, because our balls were not of the right caliber, produced no farther effect than to make the enemy retire and give passage to our sailboat. This defended itself valiantly and with success; for our people used their firearms and wounded a number of Iroquois, while not one of them received any injury.

"These half-Demons, seeing that they had been hardly used, proceeded to vent their wrath on our Indian corn and French wheat. They cut down all that they could find, burning the plows and carts left in the field, to set fire to the heaps of peas and grain that they gathered together. They set fire to some scattered houses and killed the Fathers' cattle, which we had been unable to place in safety soon enough. One would have said they were madmen, so great fury did they manifest.

"I had a cannon rolled out upon a level place, and fired at them. The Indians advanced, engaging in several skirmishes; and in these little actions one of our Algonquins received a musket-ball in the knee, and we wounded and killed several Iroquois.

"Finally, these Indians retired, feigning to have glutted their rage and vengeance, but planning to approach the Village at night and set fire to it, as it is surrounded in several places only by large trees. We were under arms all night long; I doubled the sentinels, and the Trumpeter and Drummer played almost constantly at the fort. Everywhere was to be heard only the cry, "Who goes there?" The redoubt fired several musket volleys; and as a result of all this, the enemy, after making their approach, were frightened by these noises, and despaired of being able either to capture or to surprise us.

"During that night, there arrived a canoe of Algonquins, who were returning from hunting; they were astonished to find themselves safe in the midst of so many dangers. There also arrived a canoe of Frenchmen, who told us that Father Poncet had been made prisoner at Cap-Rouge, in the neighborhood of Quebec; and that a squad of Frenchmen and Christian Indians, full of determination, were in pursuit of his captors, but, meeting with the Iroquois, -- who were holding us besieged, -- they were led to change their plan. God sent us this reinforcement, which raised our courage and depressed proportionately the spirits of our Enemies.

"On the next day, the twenty-fourth of August, they once more dispersed throughout our little fields and renewed their ravages. Our cannon prevented them from coming too near, but did not deter our Hurons, who, -- being eager to learn news of their relatives and friends who had formerly been taken in war, and had become Iroquois, -- quietly approached the Enemy, to speak to them. When they had recognized one another, confidence spread little by little, on one side and the other, to such an extent that in a short time there was nothing to be seen but conferences and interviews between Iroquois and Hurons; and this continued for several days, so that one would have said there had never been any war between them. We kept careful guard on our side, each man remaining at his post, and under arms. Some Hurons of the Enemy's side came and gave themselves up to us. When these earnest parleys were noticed, and it was not doubted that the Enemy were seeking an opportunity to surprise us, the question whether we should not practice deception upon them, also, was proposed in the Town house; but, for several reasons, this was deemed inadvisable.

"At last, matters reached the point that the Enemy approached us without arms, and even made us presents on several occasions, -- protesting that they had no more bitterness or venom in their hearts. A Huron who had turned Iroquois, stealthily slipping in among our people, carried off to the Enemy's camp a daughter of his, whom he found with us; and he and the Iroquois learned from her mouth many things, good and bad. She told them that assistance had come to us; that a company of Hurons had captured some Iroquois at Montreal, and that victors and vanquished were daily expected. That was the reason of their delay; for in our exchange of presents, one side with the other, they had given us their word to go back soon to their own country, but said they wished to await the return of these Hurons, who were bringing some of their people prisoners. In this truce, or period of waiting, they spoke of returning prisoner for prisoner, and promised to bring back Father Poncet and the Frenchman who had been captured with him.

"On the thirtieth of August, the Hurons, returning from Montreal with their Mohawk Iroquois prisoners, part of them fell into the hands of the Enemy, who were waiting for them. Among these was a Captain of influence, who spoke in energetic terms to his compatriots, whom he found already universally in favor of peace. They immediately dispatched two canoes to their own country, to prevent any harm being done to the Father and his companion, if they should be found to be still alive; and after sending back the Hurons to our fort, the chief men among them came to visit us, entering our Village and sleeping there with as much exhibition of confidence as if they had been our most faithful friends. In short, they left us four or five of their people as hostages, solemnly promising that they would bring back the Father in a few days, and that they would come and treat of peace with us -- a peace which should be genuine and sincere."

The preceding is an abridgment of two letters that came from Three Rivers, where the above events occurred; what follows is drawn from a third which was written by a Father of our Jesuits.

"We are daily awaiting the result of a Council or general assembly that our Enemies are holding in their own country, on the proposal of peace which they made to us after a thousand acts of hostility, and a thousand attempts to take our Village of Three Rivers. They were faithful in the truce of forty days which they granted us; for during that time nothing at all was seen of them, and we went our way, on both land and water, without any hostile encounter."

I will add that, when the Onondagas were on their way down to Quebec to negotiate peace, the Mohawks delegated some of their own number to enter into this same treaty.

THE CAPTURE AND DELIVERANCE OF FATHER JOSEPH PONCET.

THE Iroquois, having butchered some Frenchmen in June, at Cap-Rouge, -- a place distant 7 miles from the fort of Quebec, -- surprised in the same place, on the twentieth of last August, Father Joseph Poncet and a Frenchman named Mathurin Franchetot. This good Father, seeing that a poor French widow had some grain in the field, and lacked help to gather it in, went off in that direction to hunt up some good people who would be willing to aid in garnering her little harvest. He had just spoken to the Frenchman mentioned above, when some Iroquois, issuing from the neighboring forest, where they had been hidden in ambush, rushed upon them, and dragged them away. The Father was requested, upon his return, to commit to paper his capture and all his adventures; he obeyed, but a part of his account was torn up by the English. After citing two or three short passages from a letter written on this subject, we shall follow with what has come into our hands.

"As soon as the news was brought to Quebec that the Iroquois had carried off Father Poncet, thirty or forty Frenchmen, and some Christian Indians, decided to rescue him from the hands of those Barbarians, whatever it might cost them to do so. They launched their canoes on the day following his capture, intending to anticipate the Enemy by going to wait for them in some spot which they must pass, to surprise them as they went by."

And, farther down in the same letter: "Father Poncet was captured on the twentieth of August, toward evening; on the twenty-first, toward night, our scouts followed him; and on the twenty-sixth, one of the canoes that had gone in pursuit of the robbers who were carrying him off brought back news to us that those scouts had stopped at Three Rivers to give help to the Village, as it was harassed by five hundred Iroquois, -- who were holding it closely besieged, and were prowling about the neighborhood in all directions. Those who returned in this canoe told us that they found, near the Island of saint Eloy, two faces drawn with charcoal on a tree from which the bark had been removed, and the names of Father Poncet and Mathurin Franchetot written beneath these. Also, they said they had found in the same place a book in which was written, in substance, these words: 'Six Hurons, turned Iroquois, and four Mohawks are carrying off Father Poncet and Mathurin Franchetot. They have not yet done us any injury. It is their custom to treat their prisoners gently as long as they are still in fear of being overtaken.'"

That is what was written to me concerning this good Father's capture. Let us now come to the tattered remnants of his own account, of which I shall make a brief abridgment.

"We arrived," says he, "at a rapid River, where the army that had gone to Three Rivers had camped. The Barbarian who had captured me at Cap-Rouge took away from me the Reliquary which I was wearing on my neck, and hung it to his own. One day, when he was running in the woods, this Reliquary flew open and all the Relics were lost, -- there remaining in the little copper box composing the Reliquary only a small piece of paper on which I had written in my own blood, when I was still in the country of the Hurons, the names of our Fathers martyred in America, and a short Prayer.

"I still had, in my prayer book, a Picture of St. Ignatius, with Our Lord bearing his Cross. But the fear that these portraits might meet with some indignity, made me decide to refrain from their possession and hide them in a bush. I kept a little Crown of Our Lord, which was the only thing left me of all that I had on my person when I was captured. I concealed it so well that it was never perceived by those Barbarians.

"To return to our journey: when it came to crossing the Stream of which I have spoken, I was ordered to wade through it. I was already soaking wet, having passed the night in the tall grass, which was all saturated with drizzling rain and the dew of night, the nights being cold. I was wet up to the waist in this Stream; and all that, with the lack of nourishment, caused me a severe colic and excessive pains. I did not, however, cease to perform all my devotions as usual, taking comfort quietly with Our Lord, from whose hand, and not from the hand of men, I received this Cross.

"Amid these labors, I was seized with so great numbness in the left leg, and was so severely inconvenienced by a large blister under this same left foot, that my hosts were compelled to halt for a time, a thing which they had not expected. They had only a morsel of boiled meat left, which they had kept from their last meal, thinking to reach a place where they would find provisions. They ate it at the same inn where we had lodged throughout our journey, -- under the vault of Heaven; and as I felt extremely exhausted, I relied on my two Patrons, Saint Raphael and Saint Martha, saying to them softly in my heart that I needed some refreshment in the thirst from which I was suffering, and a little broth in my exhaustion. Scarcely had these feelings arisen in my breast, when one of our conductors brought me some wild plums that he had found in the woods, by great good luck, for more than six hundred men had passed that spot. Toward night, after experiencing much difficulty in finding a little clean water, because we were in a nasty swamp, I lay down and went to sleep, with no other comfort than what I gained from my weakness; but when my host aroused me and offered me some broth, I was surprised, not knowing how he could have made it.

"On the following morning I was compelled to set out without breakfasting, and walk with one leg and one foot crippled, and my whole body disabled. At two o'clock in the afternoon, reaching a spot near the river which flows down to the territory of the Dutch, and across which is situated the principal Village of the Iroquois, we were ordered to strip ourselves, and give up what was left us of our French garments. When I had nothing left on me but a loincloth, a blue greatcoat, all in rags, was thrown over my back; and to my companion was left an old linen doublet, badly tattered. Some Indians of our band, who had gone on ahead, had returned as far as this river with their wives, bringing some ears of Indian corn and some native squashes to our conductors; but they never offered us a single morsel. It was late; we were fasting, extremely fatigued by our journey, and covered with dirty rags; but for refreshment were ordered to sing as we walked, therefore attired. It was the beginning of our victors' triumph. I intoned the Litany of the blessed Virgin, the Veni Creator, and other Hymns of the Church.

"As we crossed the river of the Dutch, I confessed my companion, who wished to prepare himself for death, having caught sight of about forty or fifty Iroquois who appeared to be waiting for us with staves in their hands. We were stripped entirely naked, except our loincloths, and were made to pass through these Indians, who were drawn up in line. They gave me some blows on the back with their switches; but as I was quickening my steps, one of those executioners stopped me short, taking me by the arm and stretching it out, to give me a blow with a short, thick stick that he raised aloft. I gave my arm to Our Lord, thinking the man was about to break and shatter the bone between the elbow and the wrist; but, the blow falling on the joint, I came off with a wound which disappeared in course of time. When we had entered the Village, I was made to take the lead in ascending a scaffold erected in the middle of the public place, and raised about five feet from the ground. My companion joined me there soon afterward, bearing the marks of the blows he had received; and were seen the traces of a troublesome and painful lashing across his breast.

"I felt so firm and calm on this stage, and faced, with so serene an eye and mind, those who were looking at me, that I marveled at myself. Still, I felt some alarm at the sight of a certain One-eyed man who carried a knife in one hand, and a piece of their bread in the other. I remembered that the good Father Isaac Jogues had lost one of his thumbs on a similar scaffold; and not feeling then disposed to give the man my fingers, I appealed to his good Angel; and the man, approaching us, gave my companion the bread that he was holding, and then withdrew without doing any injury. A shower, coming up suddenly, dispersed the spectators, and we were brought to the shelter of a little roof at the entrance to a cabin. There we were made to sing; and God put me in such a state of submission to those Barbarians, and I abandoned myself with such courage to all sorts of indignities, that there was nothing I would not have done, provided it were requested me and were not contrary to God's Law."

I have noticed in a private letter that, as the Father did not succeed in all these apish tricks in a manner satisfactory to the Indians, -- who, in consequence, would have been inclined to condemn him to death, -- a young Huron, a captive among these people, came forward to sing and dance, and execute all the grimaces, in the Father's place, the Father having never learned that trade.

"Toward evening," continues the Father, "we were brought to the cabin of him who had captured me, and there I was given a dish of their sagamite, or porridge made of Indian corn and water. The old men having assembled in this cabin, a woman presented two yards of wampum to enforce her request that one of my fingers should be cut off. I felt no further reluctance at giving up my hands, especially since -- in the hope which I had entertained, during my journey, of saving my life; and in my desire to work afterward in the cause of peace -- I always believed it beneficial that I should bear the marks of my experience, and that it should cost me one of my fingers.

"The One-eyed man, who had approached our scaffold with a purpose which he did not execute at the time, took my right hand and examined my fingers; and just as I was thinking that the fingers of that hand were a little more necessary to me than those of the left, he took the left and dropped the right. Then calling a child, from four to five years of age, he gave him his knife, took the index or forefinger of my left hand, and made the child cut it off. I offered my blood in the cause of peace, regarding this little sacrifice with a mild eye, a serene countenance, and a stout heart; I sang the Vexilla.

"The Hymn completed and the finger cut off, that man hung around my neck a part of the wampum beads which the woman mentioned above had given; and with the rest he encircled my severed finger, and carried it to my captor. As the blood flowed from the wound in abundance, the One-eyed man wished to apply to it the fire of his tobacco-pipe, to stanch it -- which would have caused me intense pain. But he was anticipated by others, who had a glowing coal applied to it by the same child who had done the cutting. As the blood did not cease flowing, they wrapped the wound for me, some time afterward, in a leaf of Indian corn; and that was all the dressing applied to it until my life had been granted me.

"On the following day, we were brought to another Village, where there was to be held a great Assembly of the notables of the country. A woman took away my shoes from me, thinking perhaps that we were going to be put to death; accordingly I made that journey barefooted and bareheaded. For three days and two nights -- namely, the Friday, Saturday, and Sunday immediately preceding the Nativity of the blessed Virgin -- we were exposed to the ridicule, the taunts, and the insolence of the children and of everyone. It was our principal dish, from morning until evening, in the great public place where we were exposed. Some gave me blows with their pipes on my cut finger, others applied to it burning ashes; some flicked their finger on it; others applied the fire from their tobacco, and others the hot stone of their pipes. Everyone did us some injury, according to his fancy. See what we suffered outwardly, while inwardly we were expecting, as the last act of this tragedy, only horrible and frightful torments.

"In the night from Friday to Saturday they burned in the fire of their pipes the two Index-fingers, both right and left, of poor Mathurin, my companion, -- an operation which he bore with admirable patience, singing the Ave maris stella in his sufferings. We were rigorously bound during these two nights, the cords around our hands and feet being tied at such a height, and in a manner so extremely uncomfortable, that we were half suspended in the air; we suffered a pain of such excruciating severity that a good old man, seeing plainly that it was unbearable, loosened our bonds and relieved us a little.

"On one of these nights, the Elders ordered the young people to content themselves with making us sing and dance, without causing us further torments. But that did not prevent those who were around the fires in the cabin from touching glowing firebrands to our flesh as we passed. I received a good part of these burns.

"Sunday was spent in councils and assemblies, to determine what should be done with us. Toward evening, our sentence was pronounced, but in terms which I did not understand. I took it for a sentence of death. But my sentence was milder: I was given to a good old woman in place of a brother of hers, who had been captured or killed by those on our side. Still, my life was not yet safe; for that woman could have made me die in all the torments that could have been suggested by revenge. But she had pity on me and delivered me from death. As soon as I had entered her cabin, she began to sing a song of the dead, in which two of her daughters accompanied her. I was near the fire during these sad chants and was made to sit down on a kind of table slightly raised from the ground; and then I became aware that I was given in return for a dead man, the last mourning for whom these women were renewing, -- causing the departed to become alive again in my person, according to their custom. In this cabin I met a captive Algonquin woman, who had been adopted into that family, into which I saw myself also adopted. As I had seen her before, and as I understood her language, I was delighted. I found also a Huron of my former acquaintance, which increased my joy.

"As soon as I had been made a relative of my house, they began to dress my finger after the manner of the Indians, -- applying to it I do not know what roots or barks, previously boiled, which they wrapped in a linen rag that was greasier than a kitchen-cloth. This bandage lasted me two weeks, so that it became hard, causing me great inconvenience. I was given half a blanket, to serve me as robe and as bed; and some time afterward, they made me some stockings and shoes after their fashion; I was also presented with an old and greasy shirt, and all that with so much Indian kindness, and so great affection, that I have not experienced more cordiality among the Indians who are friendly to us. Besides, they went to my captor and paid him for my life with several thousand wampum beads.

"As for my poor companion, he was conducted on Sunday to another Village and was burned on Monday, the day of the Nativity of the blessed Virgin.

"Three days after, there was brought to the Village where I was, news of the army that had gone to Three Rivers. For a considerable time, I was in fear of death, not knowing whether the news was good or bad, and being well assured that I would be the object of their vengeance, in case it were bad.

"But finally there came a captain, who was commissioned to grant my life, and to conduct me back to Three Rivers. This man was a member of the family to which I had been given, and a brother of her who had adopted me as her brother. He lived in another Village, from where he sent two Hurons to invite me to go and see him. These good people told the Iroquois marvels about me, assuring them that I was mourned by all the French, and that on my life and my return depended the lives of their fellow-countrymen who had been left as hostages at Three Rivers. These words caused me to receive as much consideration as I had before met with indignity. The Captain was delighted to see me still alive; and he gave me an old hat, which was acceptable to me, as I had been going bareheaded for twelve days. He promised to conduct me to the Dutch, to have me clothed, and then to take me back to the country of the French.

"Upon this Captain's report, they began to call assemblies and hold councils, for the purpose of concluding peace with the French. Meanwhile, I was brought to fort Orange at Albany, occupied by the Dutch, where I arrived on the twentieth of September. The first family I met received me with much charity: I was given a dinner and I ate some apples, -- a fruit which I had not tasted for fifteen years; and I was also presented with a white shirt. A young man who had been captured at Three Rivers by the Iroquois, and ransomed by the Dutch, who served as interpreter, came to find me, and after some conversation, told me he was coming to make his confession on the next day, which was Sunday.

"A good Scotch Lady, who has shown herself on all occasions charitable toward the French, -- and who had done all in her power to ransom Sir Petit's little son, who has since died among the Iroquois, -- conducted me to her house, to remove the dressing of bark or roots which those good Iroquois women had applied to my finger; and when she saw that it was still far from being healed, she sent me to fort Orange at Albany, to have it dressed by a Surgeon. There I met the Governor of that fort, to whom the Iroquois Captain had presented a letter from Sir de Lauzon, Governor for the King over the great Saint Lawrence River in New France. This man received me coldly, although the letter which had been brought to him commended me in the highest terms. As night was approaching, and I was going away to lie down on the bare floor, without bed or supper, an Indian asked the Governor for leave to take me to a family who were friendly to him. I was conducted there, and found there an old man who received me with much kindness. The Frenchman whom I mentioned above was living in that house; and he set his conscience in order during the three nights that I spent with him under the roof of that worthy man, whose courtesy I wish I could acknowledge by any kind of service, so handsomely did he treat me when I was in the most despicable condition in the world. I could not lack coats, as this worthy Gentleman presented me a decent one; and a good Walloon, knowing nothing of this kindness, went to search through the houses, to find me the means of clothing myself. I was also told that that good Scotch Lady was preparing to do me the same charity; but I thanked them all, and would not accept anything but a hooded cloak, and some stockings of the Indian fashion, with some French shoes, and a blanket that was to serve me for bed on my return journey. That Lady took charge of all this, with so much skill and affection as to include every conceivable provision for my comfort. My hosts urged me to take some food for my journey; but I contented myself with some peaches from a Brussels Merchant, a good Catholic. I had to promise them all to come back and see them the next Summer, so much affection and kindness did they manifest toward me.

"Leaving the Dutch settlement, I was brought to the Village of the man who had captured me. Upon going to visit him, he returned to me my prayer book. From there we proceeded to the Village and to the cabin where I had been adopted, where I remained only two days; for someone came to conduct me, together with my sister who had given me my life, to the largest of the Iroquois Villages, for the purpose of attending the councils and assemblies in which the question of peace was to be discussed. I observed that presents were being everywhere collected, to accompany my escort back to Quebec. There was nothing but feasting, and I was given the best possible reception at these gatherings. On St. Michael's day, it was decreed that they should request and conclude a treaty of peace with the French and their Allies. This conclusion was reached in the Village where the first Frenchman, the good Rene Goupil, companion to Father Isaac Jogues, had been killed by the Iroquois on that day of St. Michael. I had always expected that this festival would not pass without some important occurrence.

"Three days after this resolution, I was told that the Captain who had escorted me to the Dutch settlement would be my conductor to the country of the French, -- not by water, because of the storms which ordinarily prevail at this season upon lake Champlain, over which we must have passed; but by another route, which was fatiguing to me, as we had to proceed on foot through those great forests for seven or eight days, and I had neither strength nor legs for so great an undertaking. At the end of these eight days is found a river upon which we proceed by boat for about two days, and then we come to the great Saint Lawrence River, into which the first empties its waters, about 150 miles above the Island of Montreal, and not far from the lake called Ontario.

"On the third of October, I left behind me the last Village of the Iroquois, to return to Quebec. On a little hill at a short distance from the Village, I met the Captains and Elders of the country, who were waiting for me with the presents which they sent in ratification of the peace. They made me their last speech, urging me to bind our new alliance firmly. My conductor having taken charge of the presents, we pursued our journey, accomplishing only 10 miles on that first day. All those whom we met gave some endearment to me, according to their custom, and asked me to use my influence in concluding a satisfactory peace with the French.

"I began and completed this journey by land, with inconceivable fatigues. We started upon a Friday, the third of October; and we arrive at the first river that I mentioned above on Saturday, the eleventh of October. We proceeded together with several Iroquois who were going to hunt the Beaver about lake Ontario. The rains, and the mountains and valleys; the mountain-streams and brooks, and four rivers of considerable size which we had to cross by fording, wetting ourselves up to the waist; another larger one, that had to be crossed on rafts, insecure and badly put together; short rations, consisting solely of Indian corn just picked, without bread, without wine, without meat and without game, those regions having been hunted bare. It was remarkable that my Guide never lost his gentleness and patience, although he saw what a bad traveler I was.

"But now, at the end of this nine days' labor, there appeared three young men; sent by the Elders of the country to notify my Conductor that a Captain, to whom presents had been given at Three Rivers for my deliverance, had just arrived in the country with a report that the Iroquois hostages who had been left in the French fort had been put in irons, and that some of them had already had their heads broken. This Captain declared that he had learned that news from the mouth of an Indian, a friend of his. Upon leaving, they warned my Conductor and his attendants to be on their guard, if they were to involve themselves farther in conducting me home. They asked me if I wished to go on, as affairs then stood, and I had no answer. My Conductor, with great courage, said to me that if I would give him my word to try to save his life, he would expose it to all sorts of dangers for the sake of leading me back, safe and sound, among the French. I gave it to him freely, and that many times for he constantly asked me for it. The promise given and accepted, we embarked and pursued our journey. I have since learned that this false rumor was based on the fact that irons had been put on the feet of an Algonquin Indian who had become intoxicated. These alarms came to us from time to time, and some took pleasure in reporting them to me, thinking to intimidate me; but those persons were not of the number of my Guides, who always treated me with much gentleness.

"As we began to draw near the Island of Montreal, my people were afraid of meeting with some Algonquins; and meanwhile they took such great pleasure in hunting -- game being plenty in those regions of the great river saint Lawrence -- that this delay seemed tiresome to me. Our final Cross was the danger of being swallowed up in the whirlpools of the Lachine Rapids, within sight of the Montreal settlement. I almost thought I would find my grave in those currents, but they did me no further harm than to wash away the rest of my sins.

"At last, we landed safely at that settlement on the twenty-fourth of October, -- nine weeks having passed since the beginning of my captivity. We left Montreal on the twenty-fifth, toward evening, and arrived on the twenty-eighth at Three Rivers, where we remained until the third of November. On the fifth, we set foot on shore at Quebec; on the sixth, our Iroquois, my Conductors, made their presents in the cause of peace, which were responded to with other presents; and therefore, upon a Sunday evening, eighty-one days after my capture, the great affair of the peace was brought to a close. This sacred work was conducted in an entirely different manner from the affairs managed by the Indians, who protract to extreme length their assemblies and proceedings. I spent only one month in the country of the Iroquois, entering it on the fourth of September, and leaving it on the third of October; and in this short time, I held communication with the Dutch, saw fort Orange at Albany, and three times entered the four Villages of the Mohawk Iroquois, -- the rest of the period of my captivity being consumed by my journey there and back. I was taken by way of the River of the Iroquois (Richelieu River) and Lake Champlain, and then proceeded, for two days only, by land; and I returned by another way, so that I passed over the two routes taken by their armies and warriors when they come to seek us."

THE PEACE MADE WITH THE IROQUOIS.

AT last we have peace. If only these words were as true in the mouths of the French as they are sweet and agreeable to the Inhabitants of New France! "Yes," someone will say, "but the Iroquois are treacherous, making peace only to betray us to better advantage in a fresh war. The past is ominous to us of the future: we have already had peace with them and they have violated it." We have had peace with them, but I am uncertain whether they have ever had it with us; for it was we who persuaded them to make peace, urging them with presents and in long councils. They had some inclination to ally themselves with the French, but held our Indians, and especially the Algonquins, in abhorrence. Those who had their eyes open recognized clearly that that peace did not entirely suit the Indians' notions. But, for now, it is the Iroquois that have made peace. In the evening, there was nothing so unsightly, and so dejected, as the face of this poor country; and the next day there is nothing so joyous as the faces of all the Inhabitants. On Wednesday, for example, there is mutual killing, butchering, pillaging, and burning; but, on Thursday, presents are exchanged and visits paid on both sides, after the manner of friends.

On the day of the Visitation of the blessed Virgin, Captain Aontarisati, so mourned by the Iroquois after his capture by our Indians, was instructed by our Fathers, and baptized; and on that same day, after suffering execution, he ascended into Heaven.

The Iroquois of the upper Nations sought to make peace with the people of Montreal.

It was on the day of the Assumption that the Hurons captured, on the Island of Montreal, that other famous Iroquois Captain who was the cause of the Mohawks asking for an alliance with us.

After the Frenchman, who accompanied Father Poncet in his captivity, had been burned in the country of the Iroquois, they gave the Father his life, and he worked so effectively in the cause of peace that on St. Michael's day, it was decreed, in a public Council of the elders of the country, to conduct the Father back to Quebec, and conclude a firm peace with the French.

On the same day, while the Mohawk Iroquois were concluding peace in their country, a general procession was celebrated at Quebec for the purpose of winning the heart of the son through the mediation of the mother. Four hundred musketeers, well armed, were made to join in this procession; and as they discharged their pieces from time to time, at fitting moments, they filled with alarm the Iroquois who had come down to negotiate peace; and who were led to conclude, from this exhibition, that peace was the more necessary for them, as they remarked our Frenchmen's skill in handling their arms, some effects of which they had just experienced at Three Rivers.

The Iroquois who made war upon us were divided into five Nations, whose names are as follows: The Mohawks, The Oneidas, The Onondagas, The Senecas, The Cayugas.

Who prompted all these Nations to adopt sentiments of peace independently of one another? We have learned that the Senecas, who constitute the most extensive and populous Iroquois nation, were thinking of peace as far back as last spring, planning to persuade the Cayugas, their neighbors, to join in it. We saw before how the Onondagas, and afterward the Oneidas, came to ask it from the French at Montreal. There remained no longer any save the Mohawk Iroquois who, puffed up with his victories, wished to persevere in his desires for war; but he has yielded as well as the others.

The Onondagas having presented themselves at Montreal, to the number of sixty, to ascertain whether the French were in any way inclined to peace, the Governor of the place, prudently distrusting them, told them that their past acts of treachery rendered their proposals highly suspicious, and that, if they had any desire for an alliance with us, they must make it evident to Sir de Lauson, Governor of the whole country, who was at Quebec. The Captain replied that a careful distinction must be made between nation and nation; that the Onondagas were not faithless, like the Mohawk Iroquois, -- who cherish, deep in their breast, their bitterness of heart, while their tongues are uttering fair words. He said that, as for him, he spoke with every part of his body, from his little toes up to the top of his head, and that there was nothing in his heart, or in any of his other members, that refuted what had come out of his mouth; and that he would go and see the great Onontio, Governor of the French, and would offer him his presents, in which were enclosed the wishes of his entire Nation.

In fact, he did go from Montreal down to Quebec, voyaging 150 miles upon the great river. The first assembly was held on the Island of Orleans, in the Village of the Hurons, 5 miles away from Quebec. This Captain displayed his presents, which have the same use that Contracts have with us. When everyone was seated, he arose, and first invoked the Sun as a faithful witness of the sincerity of his intentions, and as a torch that banished the night and the darkness from his heart, to let in daylight upon his words. These presents consisted of beaver-skins and wampum; and each of them had its name, and testified the desire of the speaker and of those who had delegated him.

The first one was given to wipe away the tears that are commonly shed upon hearing of the brave warriors killed in battle.

The second was intended to serve as a pleasant drink to counteract whatever of bitterness might remain in the hearts of the French, because of the death of their people.

The third was to furnish a piece of bark, or a blanket, to put over the dead, for fear the sight of them might renew the old-time dissensions.

The fourth was to bury the dead and tread down the earth hard over their graves, so nothing might ever issue from their tombs that could sadden their relatives, and arouse any feeling of revenge in their bosoms.

The fifth was to serve as a wrapping for packing away the implements of war so securely that they would never be touched again in the future.

The sixth, to make clear the river, stained with so much blood.

The last, to urge the Hurons to accept whatever decision Onontio the great Captain of the French, should choose to make concerning peace.

As one must adapt himself to the customs and methods of procedure of those whom he wishes to win when those customs are reasonable, the Governor gave back speech for speech and present for present.

The first was given to make the war-hatchet fall from the hands of the Onondaga Iroquois.

The second, to break the kettle in which he cooked the men whom he captured in war.

The third, to make them throw down the knives used in this butchery.

The fourth, to cause them to lay down their bows and arrows and other arms.

The fifth, to wash off the paint and the red dyes with which they besmear their faces when they go to war.

The sixth, to hide so carefully the canoes or boats that they make for use in war that they shall never be able to find them again.

These Agreements exchanged, everybody rejoiced over the event; and the peace Ambassadors, or Delegates, carried away their Cloaks, their blankets, their kettles, and other like commodities, -- in which their presents consisted. They promised that they would, in a short time, bring back news of the universal joy of their entire Nation.

Let us come now to the Mohawk Iroquois, the proudest and most arrogant people of all these Regions. It was they who murdered Father Isaac Jogues, and burned Father Jean de Brebeuf, Father Gabriel Lallemant, and several other Frenchmen.

These bold people, after deciding to surprise and put to fire and sword the Village of Three Rivers, and finding more resistance than they had expected, were changed almost in a moment. Ten or twelve of their number appeared on the great river with a white Flag, approaching the fort, and calling out that they wished to parley and to treat of peace, and that someone should be sent to them for the purpose of hearing what they had to say. The one who presented himself, on the part of the French, began with invectives, reproaching the Mohawks with their acts of deceit.

"You are a young man," returned the Captain of these Iroquois; "we asked for somebody to listen to us, and not for a young man to come and talk to us. Off with you, to see your elders and those that have the direction of your affairs; take your speech from them, and then you will speak."

"I know their sentiments," replied the Frenchman; "they all think you are deceivers who do not know what it is to keep your word."

"Go and consult them, and tell them that we have good intentions, and our hearts have no more venom."

The Frenchman went up to the fort again; there was an assembly at the Town hall, and it was the opinion that these Indians had no peaceful intentions, but were seeking opportunities to surprise us. The man went back again to see them, and said to them: "I had told you plainly that I was acquainted with the thoughts of our Elders: they take you all for knaves, and for people with whom no communication must be held except by the mouths of our cannon. If you had thoughts of peace, you would speak of restoring to us one of our Fathers and a Frenchman, whom your people captured a short time ago in the vicinity of Quebec."

That Captain was surprised at this news, having no knowledge of the capture. "I did not know," returned he, "that any Frenchmen had been captured; but I will go at once and send two canoes with all haste to our country, to prevent any harm being done them; and I give you my word that, if they are still alive, you will soon see them in your settlements."

This man spoke in such a tone that his heart seemed to be in accord with his words. Meanwhile, however, an incident took place which made us think this little ray of peace that was beginning to dawn was going to be extinguished at its birth. Our French people imagined that those Indians, upon learning that our Hurons were holding some of their men as prisoners, were asking for peace to save the lives of the prisoners. By some misfortune or other -- or let us rather say, by providence -- these prisoners fell into their hands in the manner I am about to describe.

A Huron Captain, upon starting out to war, was warned by the French at Montreal that there were some enemies within the confines of their Island. This Captain hunted for them, and tracked, pursued, and attacked them; and after defeating them, he captured their Captain and four of his principal followers. As he did not know that there was an army of Iroquois at Three Rivers, and as he had to pass by that place in going down to Quebec, where he wished to conduct his prisoners, he fell right into the trap. For, when he was least expecting such a thing, and was quietly proceeding down the great river, talking with his prisoners about peace and war, he caught sight of the Iroquois army from a distance, and saw himself changed from victor to vanquished, and from being triumphant to being himself a captive. Part of his men, turning the prows of their little boats toward the land, ran away as fast as they could toward the woods; the others, not wishing to retreat, were on the point of butchering their five prisoners, -- so they could die the more gloriously, according to the notions of the country, in their enemies' blood. But God stayed their arms, already raised to deal the blow, and gave them thoughts of life and of peace, at the sight of death and when there were indications of the continuation of a cruel war.

Aaoueate, Captain of the Hurons, addressing his captive -- the Iroquois Captain, Aronhieiarha -- said to him: "My nephew" (that is a term of friendship used among these tribes), "your life is in my hands: I can kill you and make my escape with the others, or rush into the midst of your people and kill as many of them as possible. But your blood and that of your people would not deliver us from the ills into which your arms have thrown us. We spoke of alliance. Since peace is more precious than my life, I choose to risk the my life, for the sake of insuring so great a blessing to my grandnephews, rather than to avenge the death of my Ancestors by shedding your blood. At least I shall die honorably if I am killed, after having given you your life. And if you allow me to be killed by your relatives, you will pass the rest of your days in dishonor for having allowed to be put to death one who had just given you your life."

The Iroquois Captain answered: "My uncle, your thoughts are right. You can take my life; but give it to me, so I may save your own. The glory that I have won for my Nation by my victories renders me of enough consequence in the minds of my Compatriots that I can secure your life, and that of your people as well. If my people wish to attack you, my body shall serve you as a shield. I would rather have them burn me by a slow fire than to render me contemptible by not honoring your gift by setting you free."

The Onondagas who were bearing the presents which we have just mentioned, to Onontio, -- that is, to the Governor, -- to incline his heart to peace, after embarking at Montreal with these two Captains, victor and vanquished, and seeing the tables turned and the aspect of affairs reversed by meeting with this Iroquois army, put themselves on the side of the Hurons, and stoutly maintained that, if anyone attacked their escort, -- for it was the Hurons who had taken them into their boats, -- they would risk their own lives for them. Aronhieiarha, the Iroquois Captain, said to them: "Fear not; I give you my word that we shall be favorably received."

They had halted during this conversation, after which they urged their canoes toward the Army, which, after reconnoitering them, sent eighteen large canoes to meet them. They saw themselves surrounded on all sides; but these canoes all came with peaceful intent, -- so entirely that their commander, after holding a brief interview with the captive Iroquois Captain, his countryman, sent some men ashore to look for the runaway Hurons and give them assurance of life and peace. Seeing himself in the midst of his Enemies, whose testimonials of good will seemed to him signs of treachery, and their caresses signs of his death, -- or, rather, of a thousand deaths before the final one, -- Aaoueate, the Huron Captain, arose and, to give himself courage for suffering, sang, in a martial tone, his former deeds of prowess. He told the number of Iroquois he had killed, the cruelties he had perpetrated upon them, and those with which he hoped his nephews would some day avenge the torments he was himself about to endure.

"You are neither a captive nor in danger of death," the Iroquois answered; "you are in the midst of your brothers; and you must know that the Frenchman, the Huron, and the Iroquois are dropping the war-song and are beginning a song of peace, which begins today, to last forever."

"You are faithless rogues," replied the Huron Captain; "your hearts are full of venom, and your minds of knavishness; if you talk of peace, it is only to employ a treachery more wicked both for us and for the French. I know your wiles only too well. Content yourselves now with eating the head of the Hurons; but know that you do not yet hold the other members. My people still have feet and hands, legs and arms." Saying this, he offered his throat for them to cut; but seeing that not a man put his hand to his knife, "Burn me," he said to them; "do not spare your tortures, as I am a dead man. My body has already become insensible; and neither your fires nor your cruelties will shock my courage. I would rather die today than be indebted to you for a life which you give me only with the intention of depriving me of it by some dire treachery."

"You speak too harshly to your Friends," returned the Iroquois; "our hearts are in accord with our words."

"I know you well," replied Aaoueate; "your minds are furnished with seven linings, and when one of them is taken away, there are still six remaining. Tell me whether this treachery that you are devising with such skill is the last of your mischievous tricks. You have forgotten the exchange of promises that took place between our Ancestors, -- when they took up arms, the one side against the other, -- to the effect that if a mere woman should uncover the Sweat-house and take away the stakes supporting it, the victors should lay down their arms and show mercy to the vanquished. You have violated this law; for not merely a woman, but the great Captain of the French has uncovered this ill-omened Sweat-house where decisions of war are adopted. By his presents, he has taken away the stakes that support it, trying to win the Nations which you are upholding; and you have trampled under foot the promise of your Ancestors. They blush with shame at seeing you violate the laws of nature, the law of Nations, and all human society."

That man pressed this point so urgently that the Iroquois Captain was forced to admit that they were in the wrong, promising that in the future things should go differently. They were a long time engaged in this altercation, the Huron being unable to believe what he saw, and the Iroquois unable to persuade him that they were in earnest in entertaining thoughts of peace. But the Iroquois not only did no harm to the Hurons, but they also talked of nothing but feasting and rejoicing. After some exchange of friendly words, an Iroquois Captain, addressing the Huron Captain and dismissing him with honor, said to him: "My Brother, Et Sagon, cheer up, go and make the fields of the French green again with the good news of the peace that we wish to have with them and with all their Allies."

All his baggage was restored to him, together with that of his followers, with the exception of a musket which had been lost. The Huron Captain, not yet believing that he was in safety, cried out: "How is this, do you take away a man's arms when he is alone among five hundred!" Immediately a hundred muskets were thrown down at his feet, for him to choose one in place of his own, which some warrior had carried away. That done, he embarked with the few of his people who were left him, and with the Ambassadors from Onondaga, to proceed directly to the village of Three Rivers. This Captain has since told one of our Fathers that he did not regard his life as out of danger until he saw his canoe beyond the range of the hostile army's muskets.

Our French, who knew nothing of what was going on in the Enemy's camp, were astonished at learning this news. They scarcely knew whether to believe it, but finally allowed themselves to do so, when they received word that a Mohawk Iroquois Captain, Andioura by name, wished to go down to Quebec, to carry some presents to Onontio and assure him of the desires they all felt to conclude a genuine peace. This man set out from Three Rivers in the beginning of September, and as soon as he arrived at Quebec, after paying his first visits, he displayed his presents, their meaning being as follows:

The first was to make bright the Sun, darkened by the clouds and the disturbances of so many wars.

The second was a dish which he presented to Onontio, Governor of the French, so, after satisfying his hunger, he might listen more readily to the words of peace, as long speeches are not pleasing to those who are fasting.

The third was to serve as an ear-pick, so the speeches upon so pleasant a theme might enter his mind more distinctly.

The fourth was given for the building of a French settlement within their territory, and for the formation there, in course of time, of a fine Colony.

The fifth, to cause that one and the same heart and spirit should, in the future, animate all those who should be embraced in this treaty of peace.

The sixth was a canoe or boat, for carrying Onontio to their country when he wished to pay a visit to his Allies.

The seventh bore a petition that they be allowed to embark again in peace and return to their country, when they came to visit their French, Algonquin, and Huron friends.

The eighth asked that the hunting might be shared by all the confederated Nations, and that there might be no more war except on the Elks, Beavers, Bears, and Deer, so all might enjoy together the dainty dishes that are obtained from these good animals.

the Governor answered by means of other presents, which he explained by his Interpreter, after the manner of these peoples.

The first was to set properly the mind of Andioura, -- the name of the Iroquois Captain who had just displayed his presents. "If your mind is still twisted," said the Interpreter to him, "here is something with which to straighten it, in order that your thoughts may be right."

The second was to assure him that we had from then on only one heart with him and with all the people of his Nation.

The third, to unite with them in straightening and clearing the roads from one country to the other, so visits might be exchanged with greater ease.

The fourth, to spread a carpet or mat at Three Rivers, on which might be held the councils and assemblies of all the Nations.

The fifth, to prepare a place in their country for displaying the presents from Onontio.

The sixth was to break the bonds that held captive, in their country, Father Joseph Poncet, whom all the French honored and asked for with urgency.

The seventh, to raise him from the place where he was lying bound and tied fast.

The eighth, to open for him the door of the cabin where he was lodged.

The ninth, to mitigate the fatigues that he must suffer on his return journey.

The last present was composed of six hooded cloaks, or cassocks of a certain kind, six riding-caps, and two large wampum collars; these were presented to the six Ambassadors to protect them against the inclemency of the weather on their journey, and to lighten the fatigues which they must undergo on the way.

After the distribution of these presents, a number of speeches were made. Noel Tekouerimat, an Algonquin, protested forcibly against the deceit of the Iroquois, -- reproaching them with having killed, on five or six occasions, some of the Algonquins' Ancestor's at the time when the Algonquins were conducting some Iroquois prisoners back to their own country, to seek peace; while the Algonquins had received with honor all the Iroquois who had come to their country to visit them. Besides, he said, if they planned the formation of a genuine alliance, they would send back a number of women whom they were holding in captivity; if these were married, their husbands could follow them, to dwell with them in the country of the Algonquins; and if this country did not please them, the Iroquois could take them back to the place from where they had brought them. Such, he said, was the usage of their Allies who dwelt on the sea-coast in Acadia.

A Huron Captain answered that the old disputes must now be forgotten; that, if the Iroquois had treated the Algonquins ill, he was paying them back like for like, in humbling their insolence by another insolence; and that Heaven generally punishes doubly those who abuse its favors in their victories.

The Governor made reply, through his Interpreter, that he had always desired to be the Mediator of public peace; that he had not yet taken up arms against the Iroquois; and that, if he had permitted his people to attack them, their villages would have been long ago reduced to ashes. He said they had acted wisely in seeking an alliance with him because he was tired of so often crying, "Peace, peace!" and, if now it were not made with sincerity, the faithless ones would feel the wrath of the French. Also, Annonhias, -- that is, Sir de Maisonneuve, Governor of Montreal -- was expected to arrive soon; and he was bringing with him a large force of soldiers to impose respectful behavior upon our enemies.

A Huron Captain closed the council with a short speech of great eloquence, in which he urged the Iroquois to bring back Father Poncet at the earliest moment. "Know," he said to them, "that he is the Father of the French, of the Algonquins, and of the Hurons, and that he teaches us all, each in his own language, the way to Heaven. Be assured that the peace which shall be confirmed by the deliverance of such a person will be unbreakable on our side, and that you will seal it more firmly by restoring him to the French than if you brought back to us a whole world of Hurons or even of other Frenchmen, supposing them to be in captivity."

The speeches concluded and the presents interchanged, there was rejoicing on all sides; and then the Ambassadors, Onondaga and Mohawk, returned to their own country.

All this occurred in September; but finally Father Joseph Poncet, appearing at Quebec on the fifth of November, filled the hearts of all the French people with joy. The letters which told of his arrival, and of the councils held for the establishment of peace, were lost in the vessel captured by the English. Here are two short extracts taken from a letter written to a person of quality; they say much:

"God has given back to us the good Father Poncet. Seven Iroquois escorted him home with eight presents, which are an earnest indication of their Elders' intention to come in the Spring for the establishment of the general peace, which seems to be decided upon. Father Poncet pledges his life for the sincerity of the Enemy's intentions."

"These last Ambassadors, seeing that the season was advancing, and that the ice might bar their way on a long journey, briefly stated the purpose of their embassy, and gave their presents with the assurance that the peace they were making would be unbreakable on their side. Then, after taking leave, and receiving reciprocal testimonials of the goodwill of the French, they left with the French the pleasure resulting from a peace so long desired."

THE PEACE MADE WITH A NATION DWELLING IN A SOUTHERLY DIRECTION FROM QUEBEC.

IT seems to have been God's will to give a universal peace to New France. Nine Algonquins of the Residence of saint Joseph at Sillery, going to hunt Beaver in November, turned aside from the banks of the great river and went four days' journey toward the Southeast. While they were proceeding at daybreak through those vast forests, seeking some lakes or rivers where the Beavers built their houses, they came upon the trail of some men. They immediately thought that these were Iroquois, and they followed close upon their heels, leaving the hunting of Beavers to hunt men. They quickened their pace, but, noiselessly, so not to be discovered. They found, before the Sun rose, five men asleep in a temporary cabin, which they had erected after the manner of hunters. They immediately pounced upon their prey, one of whom, wishing to use resistance, was quieted by a musket-shot delivered him in the thigh by an Algonquin. They saw themselves in the bonds of men, almost before they were delivered from the bonds of sleep.

As soon as our group had made this capture, they lost all thought of Beavers, and brought their captives back to Sillery. As there was at this Residence a gathering from different Nations, a part of whom were not yet Christians, they gave the prisoners a strange reception. They were belabored with blows; their nails were torn out, and some of their fingers cut off; firebrands were applied to their bodies; and they were treated like Indians and enemies of Indians. Noel Tekouerimat, a good Christian and the Captain of this Residence, after hearing these prisoners talk, said emphatically that they were not Iroquois, and that he doubted much whether they were Allies of the Iroquois. "They are," said he, "Abenakis, or neighbors and friends of the Abenakis." He added that, when he was in the neighborhood of New England, on the last journey he had made to the country of the Abenakis, he thought he had seen one of those faces. This statement arrested their execution, but did not appease the fury of those who, being enraged against the Iroquois, wished to wreak their vengeance upon these poor wretches. And to make them die with some show of Justice, they said an assembly must be held to deliberate upon their life or death.

Noel, seeing plainly that passion and not reason was calling this council, would not attend it. The factious element did not cease its proceedings, but condemned these poor victims to the flames. Our Christian Captain, seeing this lawless conduct, made presents for the ransom of their lives. Again an assembly was called, and four of the men were given their lives, while it was desired to burn the fifth. But Noel, seeing that these assemblies were not composed of all the Nations interested in the war, exclaimed that a general council of all the chief men then in the country must be held; and that they must not proceed lightly in affairs of such importance, in which human life, and perhaps a new war, were concerned. This advice was followed, a meeting was held, and the Captains made speeches, each in his turn. The common and most general opinion was that the prisoners were all guilty or all innocent; and that they ought all to die, or all be given their lives. Then, as peace had not then been made with the Iroquois, Noel Tekouerimat spoke in emphatic terms, saying that we had enough enemies on our hands, and their number must not be multiplied; that these poor men did not come to make war on us, but were Hunters; and that they must be sent back to their own country.

The chief men of the Council, in accordance with this sentiment, decided that not one of them should die; and that the fitting course was to send back two of the number to their own country for the purpose of informing their Nation of what had occurred. Immediately they were made to enter the assembly, where they appeared bound and wearing nothing except around their loins. They squatted on the ground to hear their sentence, which rejoiced them. A Captain took the word, and made them a short speech, -- telling them that they were all given their lives, that not one of them should die, and that they were free. At the same time their bonds were cut, and thrown into the fire; they were raised from the ground, and each was given some clothing; and they were urged to sing and dance and rejoice, since they were among their friends. This order was executed on the instant, -- "promptly, joyfully, and in fine style," as the account says which has reached us.

After some time of rejoicing, two of them were sent back to their own country, and the three others were retained as hostages. Their commission embraced three articles, distinguished by three little sticks that were put into their hands.

The meaning of the first was that they were sent home to describe to the chief men of their Nation how they had been captured and delivered.

The second said that they must come back again, at the beginning of the following Summer.

The third was a petition that they should rescue from the hands of a Nation called Sokoueki, friends and neighbors of theirs, some of the petitioners' kinsfolk, who had been two years in captivity; and that they should bring them to Sillery, if they desired to form an alliance with the peoples who commonly resort there. The sight of these captives would, it was urged, soften the looks of those who had not regarded them favorably; and they would serve to tie the knot of the old-time friendship that had once been maintained between them. These simple souls, finding themselves declared innocent, demanded no reparation for the injuries done them. They did not complain of the blows inflicted, or of the fire that had been applied to their bodies. They did not urge the restitution of nails torn out, or of fingers cut off. All these preliminaries are accounted as nothing; provided life is not taken, the rest passes for a little sport. Even women, they say, would endure as much without a murmur.

They departed in the beginning of December, 1652, and made their appearance on the great river at the close of May of last year, 1653. As soon as they caught sight of the settlements of the French and the Indians of Sillery, they had their drums beaten, in sign of peace and, rejoicing.

They escorted two of the most influential elders of their country, laden with presents representing the orders and commissions that had been, given them. The Algonquins, hurrying to the banks of the great river, and not seeing the captives whom they had asked for, were displeased at first; but the Ambassadors, well aware of their negligence in the most important point, gave such forcible reasons for their conduct as to appease all dissatisfaction. Perhaps those captives were dead; the memoirs and letters which I have received say nothing about it.

Displeasure being allayed, these new guests were summoned to the council on the day after their arrival. The assembly was held in a hall of our little house, where we receive and instruct the Indians. It was opened by the exhibition of the presents, which were stretched upon a cord extending quite across the hall. They consisted merely of wampum collars of great size, of bracelets, and ear-rings; and of calumets, or tobacco-pipes.

When each one had taken his place, the oldest of these Ambassadors began to speak, and said to all present that he came to show the affection and friendship of the people of his nation, as symbolized by these collars; that their hearts were entirely open, and there was not a single fold in them; and that in his words were seen their inmost thoughts. Then, taking another large collar, he stretched it out in the middle of the room, and said: "See the route that you must take to come and visit your friends." This collar was composed of white and violet-colored wampum, so arranged as to form figures, which this worthy man explained after his own fashion.

"There," said he, "are the lakes, there the rivers, there the mountains and valleys that must be passed; and there are the portages and waterfalls. Note everything, to the end that, in the visits that we shall pay one another, no one may get lost. The roads will be easy now, and no more ambushes will be feared. All persons who are met will be so many friends."

That done, he arose; and approaching the presents as they hung there, he gave an explanation of them, as one would of an enigma, regarding the persons of the picture, one after the other. "There," said he, pointing to the first present, "is the book, or the paper, in which are painted the orders and commissions that I have received from my country, and the matters that I have to communicate to you. Whoever shall lightly esteem the meaning of this painting or writing, deserves to have his head broken."

Concerning the second present, composed of a large belt of wampum, he said: "Come, brothers, arise and gird yourselves with this belt; and let us go together to hunt the Elk and the Beaver."

The third was composed of some sticks of wampum, worn by them in their ears, which are pierced with such large holes as easily to receive a great stick of Spanish wax. "Those, "he exclaimed, "are for piercing your ears, in order that we may speak to one another as friends are accustomed to do, and that we may take part in one another's councils."

The fourth, comprising six large collars, for the six Nations with whom these Ambassadors were renewing their alliances, represented the robes with which these nations ought to reclothe themselves. "As we I have from now on only one heart, we need only one kind of coat or robe, so all who shall see us may understand that we are all brothers, clothed in the same costume, and that he who shall offend one of us will offend the others."

That done, this good man seated himself in the middle of the room and took two large tobacco-pipes, 18 inches in length, and made of a beautiful, highly-polished green stone; these constituted the fifth present. He filled one of them with tobacco, applied fire to it, and sucked the smoke from it with great gravity. All the assembly looked at him, not knowing what he meant. After he had smoked much at his ease, "My brothers," said he, "these two tobacco-pipes are yours. We must in the future have only one breath, since we have only one and the same soul."

And coming to the sixth present, which consisted of wampum strung in two-yard-lengths, and in a number of collars, "Ah," he cried, "in what great dangers on all sides have we been placed by the bonds of those poor prisoners! But they are loosed, and the danger is past. Your Fathers formerly contracted an alliance with our Ancestors. That had been forgotten, and an unlucky event caused harm to our people and good to all our Nations; for we had ceased to know one another, we had gone astray, and We are reunited. Yes, but have not our poor people had their fingers cut off? Have they not been beaten and tortured? It is not you who dealt this blow; it is those wicked Iroquois, who have done you so much harm. Your eyes, injured by those wretches, took us for enemies, and you struck us, thinking you were striking Iroquois. It was a mistake; we will say nothing about it."

His speech ended, Noel Tekouerimat, Captain of Sillery, took the word, in the name of all the other Captains. He thanked these Ambassadors kindly, praising them for entertaining a love for peace and a good understanding with their Ancestors' Allies. And, continuing his speech, he made it manifest to all the assembly, and especially to the Hurons, -- who had shown themselves much opposed to thoughts of peace, taking these prisoners for real enemies, -- how important it was not to act with precipitation in affairs of such consequence; and how fitting it was to reestablish the old-time friendship they had had with these peoples.

In conclusion, the Ambassadors, seeing that they had been heard with favor, that their presents had been accepted, and their prisoners set free, began to dance, and to sing a song with the full volume of their voices and all the strength of their lungs. Their song contained only these few words: "Now is the time to rejoice, since our presents are accepted." By order of the Captains, the young people joined them, to render the joy public, -- the young men dancing by themselves and the girls by themselves, following one another, however, after the manner of the country. Thus ended that whole ceremony.

THE POVERTY AND THE RICHES OF THE COUNTRY.

NEVER were there more Beavers in our lakes and rivers, but never have there been fewer seen in the warehouses of the country. Before the devastation of the Hurons, a hundred canoes used to come to trade, all laden with Beaverskins; the Algonquins brought them from all directions; and each year we had one or two hundred thousand gold coins' worth. That was a fine revenue with which to satisfy all the people, and defray the heavy expenses of the country.

The Iroquois war dried up all these springs. The Beavers are left in peace and in the place of their repose; the Huron fleets no longer come down to trade; the Algonquins are depopulated; and the more distant Nations are withdrawing still farther, fearing the fire of the Iroquois. For a year, the warehouse of Montreal has not bought a single Beaver-skin from the Indians. At Three Rivers, the little revenue that has accrued has been used to fortify the place, the enemy being expected there. In the Quebec warehouse, there is only poverty; and so everyone has cause to be dissatisfied, there being no means to supply payment to those to whom it is due, or even to defray a part of the most necessary expenses of the country.

The deepest and most abundant rivers of the earth would soon be dry if, when their waters ran into the Sea, the springs ceased to furnish fresh supplies. The Cities and Provinces nearer the Sea, and formerly the most abundantly watered by it, would be wrong to complain of the Provinces nearer the water sources, as if they retained all the water for themselves and sent it out to the public.

It is the Iroquois of whom complaint must be made, for it is they who have stopped the water at its source. I mean, it is they that are preventing all the trade in Beaver-skins, which have always been the chief wealth of this country.

But now, if we have peace with the Iroquois, a fine war will be made on the Beavers, and they will find the road to the warehouses of Montreal, Three Rivers, and Quebec, which they have forgotten during these later years. The upper Nations will come down, and will bring the Beaver-skins which they have been amassing for the past three years.

This Spring, three canoes arrived at Three Rivers from the former country of the Hurons, -- or, rather, from the depths of the most hidden recesses of those regions, where several families have withdrawn, out of all communication with the rest of mankind, for fear in case the Iroquois might go and find them there.

These three canoes, led by a Christian Indian, contained people from four different Nations, who brought us excellent news. This was that they were gathering together, to the number of two thousand men, in a fine country about 375 miles farther away than the Hurons, toward the West; and that they were to come the next Spring together, to bring a large number of Beaver-skins, for the purpose of doing their usual trading and furnishing themselves with gunpowder, lead, and firearms, to render themselves more formidable to the enemy. Besides, all our young Frenchmen are planning to go on a trading expedition, to find the Nations that are scattered; and they hope to come back laden with the Beaver-skins of several years' accumulation.

The country is not stripped of Beavers; they form its gold-mines and its wealth, which have only to be drawn upon in the lakes and streams, -- where the supply is great in proportion to the smallness of the hunting during these latter years, due to the fear of being captured by the Iroquois. These animals are extremely prolific.

Concerning the fertility of the soil, it is here productive. The French grains yield excellent crops, and in that respect we can do without aid from France, however numerous we may be here. The more settlers there shall be, the greater plenty shall we enjoy.

Beef and bacon are here delicacies, which formerly we did not dare to hope for. Game is abundant, and there is no lack of Moose-hunting.

But the eel constitutes a manna exceeding all belief. Experience and ingenuity have rendered us so expert in catching them that one or two men will take five or six thousand in a single night; and this fishing lasts for two whole months, in which an ample provision of them is made for the whole year; for the eels here have excellent qualities for keeping, whether dried by fire or salted, and are much better than any eels in France.

Salmon and Sturgeon are plentiful in their seasons; this country is the Kingdom of water and of fish.

The country is healthful, remarkably few diseases being seen here; and children are comely and easy to rear.

THE DOOR CLOSED TO THE GOSPEL SEEMS TO OPEN WIDER THAN EVER.

THE greatest evil wrought by the Iroquois war is the ruin of our infant Churches; for it laid waste the Huron country, depopulated the Algonquin nations, cruelly put to death both Pastors and flock, and prevented any farther passage to the remote Nations, to make of them a Christian people.

This new peace will open for us a highroad to the upper Nations, from where the war has driven us away. The fervor of our Fathers already compels them there. But what still more animates them, and what will be an effectual means of maintaining the peace with the Iroquois, is establishing a Residence in the midst of the enemy's country, on the great lake of the Iroquois, near the Onondagas. The route there is easy, there being only two waterfalls where it is necessary to land and make a portage, -- a short one at that; and there it would be easy to construct a small redoubt for the purpose of maintaining free communication and of making ourselves masters of this great lake. Therefore, we can afterward make journeys to the distant Nations, and even into the former country of the Hurons, without being obliged to undergo those inconceivable fatigues of former times, when we had to carry both canoes and baggage on our shoulders to avoid the waterfalls and impetuous floods which are unnavigable.

The Onondaga Iroquois invite us, and request our coming by presents; they have assigned a place to us, and have described it to us as the finest spot in all those regions. For this purpose we ask for laborers, and we expect them by the first ship that sails.

EXTRACTS FROM VARIOUS LETTERS BROUGHT FROM NEW FRANCE.

THE country of the Hurons, which sustained from thirty to thirty-five thousand people within a stretch of territory of only 42 or 45 miles, having been pillaged, laid waste, and burned, those who escaped this general wreck took refuge among various Nations. A large number came and threw themselves into the arms of the French, and especially of the Fathers of our Jesuits. The Fathers gave them such substantial aid that they had this last Summer about 250 acres of land planted with their Indian corn, -- that is, it was necessary to fell 250 acres of timber to make that great clearing, a work of much utility to this new Colony, which has now the means of feeding itself, but not yet the means of providing itself with clothing. God has not forgotten it; for certain persons of piety sent it some blankets, which were cut into quarters, so with each blanket, four little orphans could be clothed. Others, wishing to have their names borne by some new converts, have caused presents to be given them, which have served to clothe the father, the mother, and sometimes even all their children.

A young Huron, who is about thirty years old, and has been for the past four years strongly urged to marry, has always resisted. Finally, when his relatives, by weighty arguments, pressed him with unusual persistence to take this step, he went in quest of one of the Fathers who have charge of that Church, and addressed him: 'My Father, I am told every day to marry; what is your opinion? Decide for me.'

The Father answered that it was not forbidden to marry, and that he could do so.

'Yes,' returned the young man; 'but which of the two is more pleasing to God, to marry or not to marry?'

The Father replied that those who renounced the pleasures of earth, for the sake of serving Jesus Christ better, were more acceptable to him.

'That is enough,' replied this good Neophyte; 'there must be no more talk of marriage to me. Goodbye, Father; that is all I had to say to you.'

YEAR 1654
NEW FRANCE, IN THE YEARS 1653 AND 1654. SENT TO REV. FATHER NICOLAS ROYON, PROVINCIAL OF IN THE PROVINCE OF FRANCE. BY REV. FATHER FRANCOIS LE MERCIER, SUPERIOR OF THE MISSIONS OF THE JESUITS.

Reverend Father,

Our minds have been so divided during the past year that we have enjoyed Peace while thinking we were at war. From the plots of treachery entertained by the Iroquois, our enemies, God has given us a genuine Peace, which opens to us routes for going to instruct them in their own country. Such are the hopes given us by the fortunate result of a journey which one of our Fathers has recently made to that country. It was Father Simon Le Moyne, who was sent there in the beginning of July, and left us in suspense until his return, a few days ago, at which we were filled with joy, as we had reason to fear that he had been cruelly burnt, which has already befallen several of our Fathers at the hands of those wretches.

The Father found there a captive Church, composed of our old-time Hurons. He baptized thirty little Iroquois children, who were sick and in danger of dying. He converted a great Iroquois Captain, the Chief of eighteen hundred men, whom he was leading to a new war, to which God undoubtedly aroused them toward in order to give us Peace. This Captain urged for his baptism before going into danger. Finally, the Father received presents from the most important nation; it is centrally situated among the other Iroquois nations, who are inviting us to go and instruct them, so they may become Christians. We gave them our word that next Spring we would go and dwell there, building a house like the one we used to have among the Hurons before the war had driven us from there.

The enterprise of establishing a Mission next Spring in the heart of the Iroquois Nations obliges us to ask you for the aid of six of our Fathers; for we are too few. Sir de Lauson, our Governor, intends to send there a number of picked Frenchmen for starting a new settlement; while we shall send some of our Fathers and some workmen to build The first Church There. The expense will be excessive; but as it is an affair of God more Than ours, his Providence will provide for it. There are in France Charitable persons who are zealous for The Conversion of the Indians, and who fill the office of Apostles in Barbarous countries, even though they do not leave their Native land. There are even holy Widows, chaste Virgins, and many married Women, who, by sending Their donations, share in This glory of preaching The Gospel from one end of the world to The other.

Quebec, this 21st of September, 1654.

Francois le Mercier

PLAN OF THE MOHAWK IROQUOIS IN THE TREATY OF PEACE WHICH THEY HAD BEGUN WITH US IN NOVEMBER, 1653.

AFTER the return from captivity of Father Poncet, who was saved from death, and from the flames in which his companion had been cruelly burnt, the Mohawk Iroquois, having given us some considerable presents in testimony of the sincerity of their hearts, and having received some in return, were impatient to start homeward again, seeing that winter was approaching.

At the same time, a vessel which was still lingering at Quebec set sail to return to France, and bear there the news of that Peace, and of the joy that had already spread over the faces of all the peoples allied to us, Algonquins, Innu, and Hurons. The vessel that was returning to France, richly laden with the spoils of the Beavers of this country, was itself robbed, falling into the hands of the English who were waiting for it in the Channel.

Back here, three young Hurons, having met, by chance in the woods, two Indians of the Mahican nation, Allies of the Mohawk Iroquois, surprised them by night for the sake of their booty, and killed them on the spot. This piece of treachery was discovered by the Iroquois who had brought back Father Poncet. Upon calling, on their way home, at the French settlement at Three Rivers, they recognized there the spoils of their Allies and the robes stained with their blood. This event was calculated to stifle in the cradle the hopes of a peace that had just been born. But the Governor of Three Rivers had the Huron murderers put in irons, to inflict a just punishment upon them and make it understood that the French had no share in these crimes.

The Iroquois were satisfied with our action, and themselves made us presents to secure the deliverance of the three criminals, saying that, as Peace had been concluded, they were brothers of the Hurons, that they constituted but one family and that they would take upon themselves the task of preventing the consequences of this murder, since the Mahicans were allied to them.

To bind us more closely together, the Iroquois asked that some of our Frenchmen should go to their country, while they would leave us hostages in return, to tie more tightly this sacred knot of unbreakable friendship, which they wished to maintain with us as long as our great rivers should run into the sea. Two young soldiers volunteered to set out on this journey, four Iroquois remaining with us.

A few days after the departure of the Iroquois Ambassadors, the senior Captains of our Hurons revealed to us a secret which until then had been unknown to us. They showed us three large wampum collars of rare beauty. "These," said they, "are some presents that have come from the depths of hell, from a demon who spoke to us in the awful stillness of a dark night, a demon who inspires us with fear, since he loves only darkness and dreads the light."

They informed us that, on the night following the beautiful day on which the Mohawk Iroquois had concluded their treaty of peace with us, the leader of that embassy had awakened them toward midnight, to take counsel with them. He told them plainly that the purpose of his journey was to sever the Huron connection with us, and to transfer their Huron colony to his own country, where were already their kinsfolk who had been formerly carried away captive, and who bore their absence only with regret and inconsolable sadness. He said they were waiting for them with love, and would receive them with joy. "The entire procedure," he said, "which they had observed in delivering Father Poncet, and in conferring about Peace, was only meant to conceal their game, and to afford them more means of speaking with us without suspicion, and of conducting this whole affair smoothly and effectively."

"We dared not reject these presents," added the Huron Captains; "for that would have been to break with them and refuse the Peace, which we must try to keep, since we are powerless to carry on war. We received them only with fear, knowing too well that they are but faithless people; and that a feigned friendship with them is a thousand times more dangerous than open hostility. Perhaps, while deceiving you, they wish to deceive us, and by dividing us they intend to more easily get the better of both of us. Perhaps they wish to strengthen themselves with our Colony, and compel us, when we are with them, to take up arms against you. Perhaps they are negotiating with the French in sincerity, and, while pretending to wish to deceive you, wish to deceive us, after removing us from under your protection; for he who commits one treachery is capable of committing more than one."

Then, those Huron Captains asked for our advice, telling us that they were resolved to live and die with us, although, to satisfy the expectations of the Iroquois, they had given them presents in return.

the Governor answered that they would have done well to reveal this secret council on the night when it was held; that it was well to know the thoughts of those who wished to deceive us; that God would still bless the honesty of our proceedings; and that time would enable us to draw some advantage even from the Iroquois, and to effect their salvation from the purposes which they might entertain for our destruction.

PLAN OF THE ONONDAGA IROQUOIS, WHO ARRIVED AT QUEBEC IN FEBRUARY, 1654.

THE Onondaga Iroquois are those who appeared at Montreal, last year, bringing the first news of Peace, although we are certain that they came only with thoughts of war. They sent their Ambassadors to Quebec in September following, to negotiate concerning that Peace; and with this end in view, they brought rich presents.

They had promised to come back and see us in the winter, and they kept their word. They asked at once that the council should be called; and when their Captain saw himself in the midst of all our Frenchmen, he exhibited six large wampum collars; that meant that he had six things of importance to say to us.

The first present was intended to calm the minds of the French, for fear that they might be disturbed and mistake one word for another; or that they might be offended at some word ill understood.

The second was to testify that his heart was on his tongue, and his tongue in his heart; that is, that there was in all his words and actions nothing but the most winning sincerity, which there was no reason to distrust.

The third was a May-tree, which he planted, he said, in the middle of the great Saint Lawrence River, opposite the fort of Quebec, the house of Onontio, the great Captain of the French (that is, Sir de Lauson, our Governor), a May-tree which should rear its summit above the clouds, so all the Nations of the earth might be able to see it, and that it might mark a rendezvous where all the world could rest in Peace under the shade of its leaves.

The fourth present was given to make a deep pit, extending down into hell, into which should be thrown all slander and suspicion, and everything that might disturb good feeling, and embitter the sweetness of a Peace which heaven had given us.

The fifth was to dispel the clouds that had obscured the sun. "Those clouds," said he, "are the words of distrust uttered by the Algonquins and Innu, which prevent the sun from shedding its gentle radiance upon us and upon them.

If they were less ready to believe a thousand false reports, their mind would be a sun, giving light everywhere and dissipating the darkness."

The sixth and last present was to bury so far under ground their war-kettle, -- in which they were accustomed to boil human flesh and the dismembered bodies of their captives, whom they cruelly devoured, that that abominable kettle should never be seen on earth again, because all their hatred was changed into love.

This council was held with us on the fifth day of February. All gave free expression to their joy and gaiety; and the sun's rays are not more benign than the faces of those Ambassadors appeared to us. But a dark night followed upon a beautiful day.

We learned from a Huron Christian that this Onondaga Iroquois Captain cherished the same plan as that entertained by the Mohawk Ambassadors, namely, to separate the Huron Colony from us, and persuade the families to go in a body -- men, women, and children -- into their country; and that, to accomplish this, he proposed a. means as easy as it was plausible. This was that the Hurons should, at the opening of spring, allege that they were attracted by the beauty of Montreal and wished to make their home there; they should take the road there, and the French themselves would favor that move. But, on approaching the Island of Montreal, they were to ascend one branch of the River instead of the other; and on reaching a point above that Island, they would find there a band of five hundred Onondaga Iroquois, who, while waiting for them, would build a fort, capture plenty of game, and make some canoes for facilitating the rest of the journey. This scheme was to be kept secret even from the Hurons, with the exception of three or four who were to conduct the affair with prudence, and without giving to their wives and children any other idea than that of a transfer of their abode to Montreal. Four or five hundred Iroquois would come to meet them between Three Rivers and Montreal, and then it would be time to make public all of their plan, which none would be able to oppose, as they would be forced to bow to the law of might. They would, on the contrary, be only too happy to become friends of the conquerors, and to go to a victorious country and a land of Peace which was about to wage war at a distance, itself receiving no harm.

That Iroquois Ambassador had made four presents to further this scheme; but he did so in the dark night-time, to persons whom he believed trustworthy, and under a promise of unbreakable secrecy.

When it had all been reported to us, we found ourselves in as great a perplexity as the Hurons themselves. "We see plainly, "these Huron Captains said to us, "that those two Iroquois Nations, in a spirit of mutual envy, wish to win us each to its own side. Whatever plan we adopt, we are equally confronted with misfortune. We believe that this eagerness displayed by both parties proceeds not from love which they feel toward us, but is rather part of the plot to be revenged upon us, each for an injury received and not yet forgiven. The Onondagas still bear in mind the death of thirty-four of their number, men of high rank and importance among them, whom we deceived three years years ago in our former country when they themselves tried to beguile us. We anticipated by one day the disaster that was about to break over our heads; they were plotting to massacre us, under the pretext of a false treaty of Peace, in which they intended to take us unawares.

The Mohawks cannot forget the death of their great Captain Torontisati, whom we burned at Three Rivers only two years ago, when he saw himself betrayed while plotting to betray us. Although in those matters we are guiltless, still they regard us as criminals for having escaped death at their hands when they planned it. they consider us as so many victims consecrated to their cruelty, and that is probably what prompts them to show us so much love."

"What increases our ill fortune at this juncture," added these Huron Captains, "is that, whatever side we take, even should these pluck out from their hearts their furious desire to be revenged on us, the other side will imagine itself despised, and treated with less consideration than its rival, and will conceive fresh wrath and commit some new crime which will irritate them more than ever. But if neither side carries us off to its own country, their hope, being disappointed, will turn to despair; and seeing themselves both alike deceived, they will conspire to effect our ruin. Thus we see only misfortunes on all sides."

After long uncertainty as to which course they. should pursue, the oldest of the Captains addressed the Governor as follows: "It is now your turn to speak, Onontio, and not ours. We have been dead for four years, ever since our country was laid waste. Death follows us everywhere, and is always before our eyes. We live only in you, we see only through your eyes, we breathe only in your person; and our reasoning is without reason, except in so far as you give it to us. It is then for you, Onontio, to draw us out from these perils by telling us what we must do."

This was a perplexing emergency for us; for a traitor -- conscious of his guilt and seeing that he is discovered -- fears that he will be anticipated, and believes his safety to lie in hurrying the destruction of the most innocent, knowing well that he himself deserves to be destroyed. So we hesitated to show that we knew of their conduct; while, on the other hand, to seem to know nothing about it was to encourage them in its continuance, and render incurable the evil which was threatening the ruin of either the French or the Hurons, and most probably of both together.

Finally, we deemed it best to let the Iroquois know, without showing either distrust or Jealousy, that we were well inclined toward their project; but to do this in such a way as to succeed in deferring that enterprise until some subsequent year, in the hope-which was afterward fulfilled-that God would admit some light into our darkness, and that time would incline men's minds toward a genuine Peace.

Our Huron Captains told the Iroquois Ambassador, as if in confidence, that their plan was succeeding beyond their hopes; that the French were proposing to them to build a new settlement themselves on the great Lake Ontario; and that, such being the case, it would be best to communicate to the French their until now secret plan, without letting it appear that there had been a desire to conceal anything from them. To this the Iroquois consented.

A council was held, in which were brought forward the four Iroquois collars, with which an invitation was extended to the Huron colony to make itself a new country in lands formerly hostile, which, they were assured, would be to them a Promised land.

To these presents the Hurons had only two things to say in reply, and they did this by means of two other presents. The first was made to postpone, at least for a year, the execution of this plan. The second present was given to urge the Iroquois to build, in the first place, a dwelling for the black robes, that is, for our Fathers, who were their teachers, assurance being given that, wherever our Fathers should decide to go, the colony would follow them.

The Governor lent his support, and testified, by six more presents, his approval of this plan.

With the first, he urged the Onondaga Iroquois to give a cordial reception to the Hurons, when the Hurons should come to their country.

With the second, he asked them not to press the Huron Families which might not yet be ready to make this journey.

With the third, he asked that they should be allowed full liberty to go wherever they wished, even though some should feel disposed to seek the country of the Mohawk Iroquois, and others Seneca; and even though still others should long for their former country, or choose to continue their abode with the French.

The fourth present was intended to put Onontio's voice into the mouth of Annonchiasse, that is, our Governor declared to them that it was no longer necessary for them to come down as far as Quebec to hear his opinions regarding that treaty of Peace, but that they could negotiate with Sir de Maisonneuve, local Governor of Montreal, with as much confidence as with himself; and that he gave him all his own power in that respect.

The fifth present was to transplant the May-tree which they had set up before Quebec, removing it to Montreal, so access to it might be easier, Montreal being on the frontier.

The sixth present was designed to create again a union of sentiment among all the Iroquois, who are composed of five different nations, in order that this Peace might be general, and that there might be no jealousy between them.

In this way we satisfied everyone, being ourselves friendly to all, and no one being able to complain of us. Above all, we left each of the Iroquois Nations hopeful of winning to its own side the Hurons, whom they so eagerly desired.

When this had been accomplished, the Ambassadors prepared for their return, giving us assurance of an unbreakable Peace.

CAPTURE OF A FRENCHMAN AT MONTREAL BY THE ONEIDA IROQUOIS, IN APRIL, 1654; AND OF HIS DELIVERANCE.

AS nothing happened all winter long to mar our joy, and as the atmosphere of Peace had spread throughout the country, especially at Montreal, the great number of Beavers inhabiting the streams and neighboring rivers attracted our Frenchmen there, as soon as spring opened and the snow and ice melted. On all sides they hunted and waged war against these animals, with pleasure and profit alike.

A young Surgeon in pursuit of his prey, laying his snares for the Beaver in remote places where never had Solitude seemed to him sweeter, a band of Oneida Iroquois, who had gone there to hunt men, captured this hunter of animals. They quickly carried him away, and hurried him to their canoes, without leaving any trace behind them. Nothing would have been known of this mishap if a Huron accompanying the hostile band had not, by good luck, made his escape. They had left him at the spot where they landed, on the Island of Montreal, to guard their canoes and bear company to two young Iroquois women who were in attendance on their husbands, so enjoyable and easy is this warfare to our enemies. This Huron, seizing the opportunity, hurried promptly to the fort of Montreal, and gave warning to be on guard, as a band of a dozen Oneida Iroquois had arrived and were scouring the neighborhood, with thoughts of nothing but war, blood, and carnage.

The cannon was fired as a signal for everyone to retire to the fort, where this young Surgeon was the only one found to be missing; no doubt he had either been captured, or killed on the spot. From Montreal advices were dispatched to Three Rivers and Quebec. There we were, again exposed to the terrors of a fresh war, and expecting a hostile army, the Huron fugitive assuring us that it was close at hand, and that everything had been but treachery. The effect of all this, however, was only to strengthen our Peace.

In the beginning of May, a band of Onondaga Iroquois arrived at Montreal, knowing nothing of this act of hostility. They were kindly received and the French opened to them their hearts, as well as the gate of the fort. After a favorable reception, they were told of the capture of the Frenchman who had been carried off a prisoner. They were surprised at this news; they trembled and turned pale, thinking there might be a desire to take vengeance on them. They were gently reassured, and were told that it was never the custom of the French to involve the innocent with the guilty; and that a friend was not made an enemy, unless he himself wished it.

There was in that band a Captain who, of all his Nation, bore the most influential name, Garacontie, "No, no," said he; "your goodness will always be victorious; our malignity and trickery can never extinguish it. Bad luck to those who shall ever abuse it! I will remain your captive and hostage until the Frenchman who was taken away prisoner shall have been set free. For his life, I will pledge my own; and if the people of my nation have any respect and love for me, the Frenchman will live, and his life will save mine."

He immediately dispatched a canoe to carry this news to Onondaga, of which he is Captain. There the matter was considered; presents were collected, an embassy was sent to Oneida, the Nation of those who had committed the act, and its people were requested to surrender the Captive and set him free.

It was a pleasant surprise for that young Surgeon to see, in a moment, his bonds broken. Faces no longer showed anything but gentleness toward him, his enemies having become his friends; and the joy at Montreal was made perfect when he himself brought there the news of his deliverance, and the assurance of Peace for all the Iroquois Nations.

The Onondagas who had conducted him back, on seeing all assembled, brought forth twenty wampum collars, to accompany their principal present, namely, our prisoner, restored to freedom.

The purpose of the first collar was to root more firmly the May-tree which Onontio, the great Captain of the French, had transplanted to Montreal.

The second was to restore to better humor Sir de Maisonneuve, who was rightfully indignant at this unjust capture of one of his beloved nephews.

The third was to serve him as a potion to make him vomit up all his bile, and all the poison in his heart.

The object of the fourth present was to throw into the fire the restraints which had bound the hands and arms of the Captured Frenchman.

The fifth was to break the cords that had bound his legs.

The sixth, to burn those that had been tied around his waist.

With the seventh, the Nation of the Onondagas demolished the scaffold upon which this French captive had been exposed.

With the eighth, the Nation of the Senecas rescued him from that position of shame.

With the ninth, the Cayugas did the same.

With the tenth, the Oneidas burnt the wood that had been used in building that unhappy scaffold, so that not even the ashes were left to posterity, and the memory of it was lost.

The purpose of the eleventh present was to reunite in the same thoughts of Peace the minds of our French, of the Hurons, and of the Algonquins, in case fear should have inspired anyone with distrust.

In presenting the twelfth, the Iroquois Captain said: "Nature has strewn with rocks and shoals the Rivers that connect us with the French. I remove everyone of those breakers, so all communication between us may be pleasanter and easier."

With the thirteenth he said: "I wish to see in my country one of the black robes who have taught the Hurons to honor the one God."

With the fourteenth: "We shall pay him respect, and shall daily clean the mat on which he makes his bed."

With the fifteenth: "We shall receive his teachings with love, and it is our wish to worship him who is the master of our lives."

With the sixteenth: "Our young men will wage no more warfare with the French; but, as they are too warlike to abandon that pursuit, you are to understand that we are going to wage a war against the Eries" (the cat Nation), "and this summer we shall lead an army there. The earth is trembling there, and here all is quiet."

With the seventeenth: "If any accident should happen which can disturb this Peace, I shall have wings with which to fly, and to hurry here on the instant. My presence will put a stop to all disorders."

With the eighteenth: "I open the ears of the French, so they may learn every occurrence, and hear the news and advise me of that."

With the nineteenth: "We the Frenchman and I, the Onondaga-are now one, our arms being linked together in a bond of love; and he who shall seek to sever it will be our common foe."

With the twentieth: "We shall do nothing in secret; the Sun will witness our actions; and may it cease to shine on him who shall choose the path of darkness.

He who hates the light is not worthy that the sun should shine on him."

Such were the twenty presents given us by the Onondaga Iroquois, to establish firmly the Peace which had been violated by the capture of our Frenchman.

FLEET OF HURON AND ALGONQUIN CANOES FROM THE UPPER NATIONS, ALLIES OF THE FRENCH, ARRIVE IN JUNE AT MONTREAL AND AT THREE RIVERS, AND BRING THERE GOOD NEWS.

AFTER the capture of the Surgeon of Montreal, and before his return from Captivity, while we were in suspense between fear and hope, not knowing what would be the issue of that affair, a fleet appeared in the distance, descending the rapids and waterfalls which are above Montreal. There was reason to fear that it might be a hostile army; but, upon its approach, it was seen to be composed of friends, who were coming from a distance of 1000 miles to bring us news of their Nation and learn some of our own.

The people of Montreal and Three Rivers experienced a double joy upon seeing that these canoes were laden with furs, which those nations come to exchange for our French products.

These people were partly Petuns, whom we formerly called the tobacco Nation, and who speak the Huron language; and partly Ottawas, speaking the Algonquin language, and called by us "raised hair", because their hair does not hang down, but is made to stand erect like a high crest.

All these peoples have abandoned their former country and withdrawn to the more distant Nations, toward the great lake which we call "the lake of the Stinkards" (Green Bay), because they dwell near the Sea, which is salt, and which our Indians call "stinking water." This lake is toward the North. The devastation of the Huron country having made them apprehensive of a like misfortune, and the fury of the Iroquois having pursued them everywhere, they thought to find security by retreating to the end of the world. They live there in large numbers, and form a greater population than before occupied all those countries; several of them have different languages, which are unknown to us.

Those who came to visit us -- to the number of about 120 -- met, on their way, some Seneca Iroquois, and some Mahicans, allies of the Mohawk Iroquois. They were out on a hunting expedition, and our visitors took thirteen of them Captive, not intending, however, to treat them with the customary cruelty, or even to bind their arms and hands. This victorious band arrived safely at Montreal; seeing in what disposition its inhabitants were, and how everything pointed toward Peace, they made a present of these captives to Garacontie, the Onondaga Captain who had voluntarily remained there as a hostage, pending the return of the Frenchman who had been carried off a prisoner. Then nothing but feasts and songs of joy were going on, amid a gentle impatience for the Frenchman's speedy return. Soon after, he arrived.

The Onondaga Iroquois informed us that a fresh war had broken out against them, and thrown them all into a state of alarm; that the Eries were arming against them (these we call the Cat Nation, because of the tremendous number of Wildcats (raccoons?) in their country, two or three times as large as our domestic Cats, but of a handsome and valuable fur). They informed us that a village of Seneca Iroquois had been already taken and set on fire at their first approach; that same nation had pursued one of their own armies which was returning victorious from the direction of the great Lake Huron, and that an entire Company of eighty picked men, which formed the rear-guard, had been completely cut to pieces; that one of their greatest Captains, Annenraes, had been captured and led away captive by some skirmishers of that Nation, who, to deal this blow, had come almost to the gates of their village. They declared that all the four Nations of the upper Iroquois were on fire; that they were leaguing together, and arming to repulse this enemy; and that all this compelled them to seek for Peace with us, even though they might not have had any such thoughts before.

The Erie Nation is populous, having been reinforced by some Hurons, who scattered in all directions when their country was laid waste, and who now have stirred up this war which is filling the Iroquois with alarm. Two thousand men are estimated, well skilled in war, although they have no firearms. Despite this, they fight like Frenchmen, bravely sustaining the first discharge of the Iroquois, who are armed with our muskets, and then falling upon them with a hailstorm of poisoned arrows, which they discharge eight or ten times before a musket can be reloaded.

We, however, are left in Peace; and Father Simon Le Moyne, who has but recently returned from the upper Iroquois, assures us that they were arming themselves to start off from there, to the number of eighteen hundred men.

THE MOHAWK IROQUOIS ARRIVE AT QUEBEC IN JULY, AND BRING BACK TWO FRENCHMEN WHOM THEY WERE HOLDING AS HOSTAGES.

TWO young soldiers of the garrison at Quebec had gone, in November, 1653, with the Mohawk Iroquois who had brought back Father Poncet, liberated from his captivity. They had been sent to serve as hostages, or, rather, as an assured pledge that the Iroquois and we were of one mind, and that we were desirous of living in a spirit of mutual confidence.

All winter long there had been seen, at Montreal and at Three Rivers, many Iroquois of that Nation, whose presence was a constant confirmation of the Peace. Still, some items of news that reached us, and even some of the letters from our Frenchmen, continued to inspire us with distrust, until, toward the end of the winter, a Mohawk Captain, the son of an Iroquois mother and a Dutch Father, brought us letters from the Captain of fort Orange at Albany in New Netherland and from some Dutch tradesmen, who all assured us that now they saw a disposition for Peace on the part of the Indians allied to them.

This same Iroquois Captain made a second journey to bring back to us our two French hostages, according to the promise he had given us. They arrived at Quebec in July, a few days after Father Simon Le Moyne had left us for his journey to Onondaga.

We were, at this point, confronted with a difficulty; we saw well that there would be some cause for jealousy between the four upper Iroquois Nations and the Mohawk Iroquois, each of them being anxious to secure for its own country the honor of this embassy of Father Le Moyne. The Onondagas desired it because they had first brought the news of Peace; while the Mohawks wished for it because they are the nearest to us, being situated on the frontier.

The Mohawk Captain made his complaints on the subject with cleverness and intelligence. "Ought not one," said he, "to enter a house by the door, and not by the chimney or roof of the cabin, unless he be a thief, and wish to take the residents by surprise? We, the five Iroquois Nations, compose but one cabin; we maintain but one fire; and we have, from time immemorial, dwelt under one and the same roof." In fact, from the earliest times, these five Iroquois Nations have been called in their own language, which is Huron, Hotinnonchiendi, that is, "the completed Cabin," as if to express that they constituted but one family. "Well, then," he continued, "will you not enter the cabin by the door, which is at the ground floor of the house? It is with us Mohawks that you should begin; but you, by beginning with the Onondagas, try to enter by the roof and through the chimney. Have you no fear that the smoke may blind you, our fire not being extinguished, and that you may fall from the top to the bottom, having nothing solid on which to plant your feet?"

The Governor was therefore obliged to give him some presents, in assurance that Ondessonk (that is the name of Father Simon Le Moyne) would go also to his country, provided he could overtake him on the road and deliver to him our letters, informing him of our purposes. These letters caused him to hurry his departure; but the Father had gained a start and could not be overtaken, pursuing his journey according to the plan first adopted.

JOURNEY OF FATHER SIMON LE MOYNE TO THE COUNTRY OF THE ONONDAGA IROQUOIS, IN JULY, AUGUST, AND SEPTEMBER.

ON the second day of July, the feast of the Visitation of the most blessed Virgin, who is ever favorable to our enterprises, Father Simon Le Moyne set out from Quebec on his journey to the Onondaga Iroquois.

Passing by Three Rivers, he proceeded from there to Montreal, where a young man, of stout heart and long a resident here, piously joined him. For greater ease I will follow the Father's journal.

"On the 17th day of July, St. Alexis's day, we set out from home with that great saint of many travels, toward a land unknown to us.

"On the 18th, following constantly the course of the Saint Lawrence River, we encounter nothing but breakers and impetuous floods thickly strewn with rocks and shoals.

"The 19th. The River continues to increase in width and forms a lake, pleasant to the sight, and 20 or 25 miles in length. In the evening, a swarm of troublesome mosquitoes gave us warning of rain, which drenched us all night long. It is a pleasure, sweet and innocent beyond conception, to have, under these conditions, no shelter but the trees planted by nature since the creation of the world.

"The 20th. We see nothing but islands, of the most beautiful appearance in the world, intercepting the course of this peaceful river. The land toward the North appears to us excellent. Toward the rising sun is a chain of high mountains which we named after saint Margaret.

"The 21st. The islands continue. Toward evening we break our bark canoe. It rains all night, and the bare rocks serve us as bed, mattress, and everything else.

"The 22nd. The rapids, which for a time are not navigable, compel us to shoulder our little baggage and the canoe that bore us. On the other side of the rapids, I caught sight of a herd of wild cows proceeding in a calm and leisurely manner. Sometimes there are seen four or five hundred of them together in these regions.

"On the 23rd and 24th, Our pilot having injured himself, we were forced to halt, becoming a prey to the mosquitoes, and to wait patiently -- a task often more difficult than facing death itself because of the annoyances from which, night or day, there is no respite.

"The 25th. The river is becoming so extremely rapid that we are compelled to leap into the water and drag our canoe after us among the rocks, like a horseman who alights and leads his horse by the bridle. In the evening we arrive at the mouth of lake saint Ignace, where eels abound in tremendous numbers.

"The 26th. A high wind, accompanied by rain, forces us to land, after proceeding 10 miles. A cabin is soon made: bark is stripped from the neighboring trees and thrown over poles planted in the ground on either side, and made to meet in the form of an arbor; and there you have your house complete. Ambition gains no entrance to this palace, and it is every bit as acceptable to us as if its roof were of gold.

"The 27th. We coast along the shores of the lake, everywhere confronted by towering rocks, now appalling, and now pleasing to the eye. It is wonderful how large trees can find root among so many rocks.

"The 28th. Nothing but thunder and lightning and a deluge of rain, forcing us to seek the shelter of our canoe, which, turned bottom upward over our heads, serves us as a house.

"On the 29th and 30th of July, the wind-storm continues, and checks our progress at the mouth of great lake Ontario; we call it the lake of the Iroquois, because they have their villages on its southern side. The Hurons are on the other side, farther inland. This lake is 50 miles in width, and about 100 miles in length.

"On the 31st, the day of saint Ignatius, we are obliged by the rain and wind to penetrate through pathless wastes, crossing long islands, and shouldering our baggage, our provisions, and the canoe. This road seems long to a poor man who is thoroughly fatigued.

"On the first day of August, some Iroquois fishermen, seeing us from a distance, come trooping up to receive us. One of them hurries forward, running a mile to be the first to tell us the news, and inform us of the condition of the country. He is a Huron captive and a good Christian, whom I formerly instructed during a winter that I spent with the Indians. This poor lad could not believe that I was his pastor, whom he had never hoped to see again. We land at a little fishing village, and there is zealous strife as to who shall carry all our baggage. But I find almost none but Huron women, Christians mostly, formerly rich and enjoying their ease; but now reduced to servitude by their captivity. I have the consolation of confessing there our former host of the Petun nation, Hostagehtak. His feelings and his devotion bring tears to my eyes. He is a fruit of the labors of Father Charles Garnier, that holy Missionary whose death was so precious to God.

"The second day of August. We walk about 30 or 37 miles through the woods, and camp where night overtakes us.

"On the 3rd, toward noon, we found ourselves on the banks of a river, 250 or 300 feet in width, on the other side of which there was a fishing hamlet. An Iroquois, to whom I had formerly shown some kindness at Montreal, took me across in his canoe; and then, as a mark of honor, carried me on his shoulders, not allowing me to set foot in the water. All received me with joy, and those poor people enriched me out of their poverty. I was escorted to another village, 2 miles away, where a young man of importance entertained me at a feast because I bear his Father's name, 'Ondessonk.' The Captains, each in his turn, came and made us their speeches. I baptized some little skeletons who were only waiting for this drop of the precious blood of Jesus Christ.

"The 4th. They ask me why we are dressed in black, and I take occasion to speak to them concerning our mysteries; they listen attentively. A little dying child is brought to me, and I name it Dominique. The time is now past when these little innocents are hidden from our sight. I was regarded as a great medicine-man, although I had, as my sole remedy, only a bit of sugar to give to those feeble creatures. We pursue our journey, finding our dinner awaiting us midway. The nephew of the first Captain of the country is to lodge me in his cabin, being sent by his uncle to escort us, and bringing us all that the season could furnish them in the way of the choicest delicacies, above all, some bread made of fresh Indian corn; and some ears, which we roasted in the fire. On this day we again sleep at the inn of the beautiful star.

"The 5th. We had 10 miles to cover before arriving at the chief village, Onondaga. The roads are full of people going and coming, who are out to greet me. One calls me a brother, another an uncle, another a cousin; never have I had so many kinsfolk. At a half mile from the village, I began a speech which brought me into high favor; I called by name all the Captains, families, and persons of importance, speaking slowly, and in the tone of a Captain. I told them that Peace was attending my course, that I was dispelling war in the more distant nations, and that joy was accompanying me. Two Captains made me their speech upon my entrance, but with a joy and a light in their countenances that I had never seen in Indians. Men, women, and children, all showed me respect and love.

"At night, I caused the chiefs to assemble, to give them two presents. The purpose of the first was to wipe their faces, so they could look on me with favor, and that I might never see any sign of sadness on their brows. The second was to remove any gall still remaining in their hearts. After several more exchanges of courtesy, they withdrew to consult together; and finally responded to my presents with two others, richer than mine.

"On the 6th, in the evening, our host drew me aside and said to me, with a great show of affection, that he had always loved us; and that at last his heart was content, as he saw that all the troops of his nation asked only for Peace. He added that the Senecas had come, a short time before, to urge them to take wise action in this matter on the side of Peace, making some fine presents for this purpose; that the Cayugas had brought three collars, with the same object in view; that the Oneidas deemed themselves fortunate to have been freed from a troublesome affair by its means, and that they had no longer any desire except for Peace; that the Mohawks would doubtless follow the others; and that therefore I was to be of good cheer, since I bore with me the welfare of all the land.

"On the 9th, toward noon, there comes a direful report of the murder of three of their hunters at the hands of the Eries, a day's journey from here. That means that war is kindled in that direction."

GENERAL COUNCIL FOR PEACE WITH THE FOUR IROQUOIS NATIONS; AND AFTERWARD, THE RETURN OF FATHER SIMON LE MOYNE FROM HIS JOURNEY.

ON the tenth day of August, the envoys from the three neighboring Nations having arrived, after the customary summons of the Captains that all should assemble in Ondessonk's cabin, "I opened the proceedings" (therefore the Father continues his Journal) "with a public prayer, which I offered on my knees and in a loud voice, using the Huron tongue throughout.

"I astonished them when they heard me name them all by Nations, bands, and families, and each person individually who was of some little consequence -- all by the help of my written list, which was to them a thing full of both charm and novelty. I told them that in my speech, I had nineteen words to lay before them.

"First, I said that Onontio -- Sir de Lauson, Governor of New France -- was speaking through my mouth, and in his person the Hurons and the Algonquins, as well as the French, since all three Nations had Onontio for their great Captain. A large wampum collar, a hundred little tubes or pipes of red glass, which constitute the diamonds of the country, and a moose-skin, somewhat worn, these three presents accompanied one word only.

"My second word was to cut the bonds of the eight captives from Seneca, who had been taken by our Allies and brought to Montreal.

"The third was to break also the bonds of those members of the Mahicans who had been captured at about the same time.

"The fourth, to thank the people of Onondaga for bringing back our captive to us.

"The fifth present was to thank the people of Seneca for rescuing him from his position on the scaffold.

"The sixth was for the Cayuga Iroquois, because they too had helped in this.

"The seventh, for the Oneidas, in return for breaking the bonds that had held him captive.

"The purpose of the eighth, ninth, tenth, and eleventh presents was to give to each of these four Iroquois Nations a hatchet, to be used in the New war in which they were engaged with the Eries.

"The twelfth present was intended to renew the courage of the Senecas, who had lost some of their number in this war.

"The thirteenth was to strengthen their palisade, that is, enable them to maintain a strong defense against the enemy.

"The fourteenth, to paint their faces; for it is the custom of the warriors here never to go into battle without having their faces painted, some with black, some with red, and some with various other colors, each having in this matter his own style of uniform, which he retains through life.

"The fifteenth, to harmonize all their thoughts, for which purpose alone I made three presents, a wampum collar, some little glass Tubes, and a mooseskin.

"With the sixteenth, I opened Annonchiasse's door to all the Nations, therefore indicating that they would be welcome in our cabin.

"With the seventeenth, I urged them to become instructed in the truths of our faith, making three presents to accompany this word.

"With the eighteenth, I asked them to lay no more ambushes in future for the Algonquin and Huron Nations when they should wish to visit us in our French settlements. I made three gifts with this request.

"Finally, with the nineteenth present, I wiped away the tears of all the young warriors, caused by the death of their great Captain Annenraes, who had been taken Captive by the Eries not long before.

"At each of my presents they uttered a loud shout of applause from the depths of their chests, in evidence of their delight. I was occupied fully two hours in delivering my entire speech, which I pronounced in the tone of a Captain, walking back and forth, as is their custom, like an actor on a stage.

"After that they gathered together by Nations and bands, calling to them a Mohawk who by good luck was present. They consulted together for more than two hours longer, when they called me back and gave me a seat of honor among them.

"That one of the Captains who is the tongue of the Country and acts as its orator, repeated faithfully the substance of all that I had said. Then they all began to sing to express their joy; and told me that I might pray to God, which I did willingly.

"After these songs, he addressed me in the name of his nation:

1. He thanked Onontio for the good will he entertained toward them, in token of which he produced two large wampum collars.

2. In the name of the Mohawk Iroquois, he thanked us for causing the lives of five of their allies, of the Mahicans, to be spared, with two more collars.

3. In the name of the Seneca Iroquois, he thanked us for rescuing from the flames five of their people, and this with two more collars. Each present was followed by applause from the whole assembly.

"Another Captain, of the Nation of the Oneidas arose. He displayed four large collars, with which to thank Onontio for encouraging them to make a spirited fight against their new enemies, the Eries, and for urging them never to wage war again with the French. 'Your voice, Onontio,' said he, 'is wonderful, for it produces in my heart two wholly opposite emotions. You give me courage to fight, and you soften my heart with thoughts of Peace. You are both peaceable and yet warlike, beneficent to those you love, and terrible to your enemies. We all wish you to love us, and we shall love the French for your sake.'

"To conclude these Thanksgivings, the Onondaga Captain took the word. 'Listen, Ondessonk,' he said to me; 'Five whole Nations address you through my mouth; I have in my heart the sentiments of all the Iroquois Nations, and my tongue is faithful to my heart. You will tell Onontio four things, which are the gist of all our deliberations in Council:

1. "'It is our wish to acknowledge him of who you have told us, who is the master of our lives, and who is unknown to us.

2. "'The May-tree for all matters of concern to us is today planted at Onondaga.' He meant that that would be from then on the scene of the assemblies and parleys relating to the Peace.

3. "'We implore you to choose a site that will be advantageous to yourselves, on the shores of our great lake, to build on it a French settlement. Place yourselves in the heart of the country, since you are to possess our hearts. there we will go to receive instruction, and from there you will be able to spread out in all directions.

4. "'We are involved in new wars, in which Onontio gives us courage; but for him we shall have only thoughts of Peace.'

"They had reserved their richest presents to accompany these last four words.

"The most touching part of all this is that all our Huron Christians, especially the Captive women, have kindled this fire which is burning in the hearts of the Iroquois. They have heard so much good about us, and have been told so often of the great blessings of the Faith, that, in spite of their ignorance of it, it commands their esteem; and they love us in the hope that we will become to them what we have been to the Hurons."

To resume the Father's journal:

He says: "On the eleventh day of August, there was nothing but feasting and rejoicing on every hand. At night, however, a disaster befell us: a cabin having caught fire, we do not know how, a furious wind carried the flames to the others; and in less than two hours more than twenty of them were reduced to ashes, while the rest of the village was in danger of destruction. Still, God maintained the spirits of all in the joy of the preceding day and kept their hearts as calm toward me as if this misfortune had not occurred.

"The 12th. I recovered from the hands of one of these Indians the new testament of the late Father Jean de Brebeuf, whom they cruelly put to death five years ago; and another little book of devotion that had been used by the late Father Charles Garnier, whom these people killed four years ago. These two Fathers were at their Missions when death overtook them. As for myself, who had been a witness to the sanctity of their lives, I shall all my life attach greater value to these two little books than if I had found some mine of gold or silver.

"The 13th. In regard to the fire that had occurred, to follow the custom of friends on such occasions, I convened the council, and gave the people two presents to console them. Accordingly, in the name of Achiendase, (that is the name of the superior general of all the Missions of our Jesuits in these regions), I began by planting for them the first stake for a new cabin; this corresponds to our French custom of laying the foundation-stone of a new building. The purpose of my second present was to throw down the first piece of bark that was to cover the cabin. This mark of affection gratified them; and three of their Captains thanked me for it publicly in speeches that one would not believe could emanate from the intellect of those whom we call savages.

"The 14th. A young Captain, chief of a troop of eighteen hundred men who were to set out as soon as possible to prosecute the war against the Eries, asked me urgently for baptism. For several days, I had been giving him instruction, and, as I wished to make him prize this mark of grace by deferring it until some future journey, he said to me: 'If from this day forth I possess the Faith, cannot I be a Christian: have you power over death to forbid its attacking me without orders from you? Will our enemies' arrows become blunted for my sake? do you wish me, at each step that I take in battle, to fear hell more than death? Unless you baptize me, I shall be without courage, and shall not dare to face the conflict. Baptize me, for I am determined to obey you; and I give you my word that I will live and die a Christian.'

"The 15th. We take our leave well attended, after the public proclamations of the Captains as to who shall carry our little baggage. A mile from there, we meet a number of elders, all members of the council, who are waiting for me to bid me Farewell, in the hope that I shall return; and they indicate a desire to see this hope fulfilled.

"The 16th. We arrive at the entrance to a little lake in a great basin that is half dried up, and taste the water from a spring of which these people dare not drink, as they say there is an evil spirit in it that renders it foul. Upon tasting it, I find it to be a spring of salt water; and we made some salt from it, as natural as what comes from the sea, and are carrying a sample of it to Quebec. This lake is rich in salmon-trout and other fish.

"The 17th. We enter their river and, a half mile from there, on the left, we come to that of Seneca which swells the current of the first river and leads, they say, to Cayuga and to Seneca in two days' journey. Proceeding 7 miles from that point, by an easy route, we leave on the right hand the River Oneida, which appears deep to us. Finally, a good 2 miles farther down, we come to a shoal which gives its name to a fishing village. There I find some of our Huron Christians of both sexes, whom I have not yet seen.

"The 18th. While my boatmen were repairing their canoes, one of those good Christian women had me baptize her child, two years of age, so, as she said, he might go to heaven to join his little sister, who had been baptized on a previous occasion, and had been slain by these people.

"The 19th. We push forward down the same River, which is of a fine width and deep throughout, with the exception of some shoals where we must step into the water and drag the canoe after us, in case the rocks break it.

"The 20th. We arrive at the great lake Ontario, called the lake of the Iroquois.

"The 21st. This lake is in violent commotion, owing to the furious winds that followed a rainstorm.

"The 22nd. Coasting quietly along the shores of this great lake, my boatmen shoot at and kill a large Stag. My companion and I content ourselves with looking at them while they broil their steaks, it being Saturday, a day of abstinence for us.

"The 23rd. We arrive at the spot which is to become our dwelling-place and the site of a French settlement. There are beautiful prairies here and good fishing; it is a resort for all Nations.

"On the 24th and 25th, we were detained by the wind. On the 26th, our boatmen having embarked before the storm had subsided, one of our canoes sprang a leak, and we narrowly escaped drowning; but at last we took refuge on an island, where we dried ourselves at our leisure.

"The 27th. Toward evening, a slight calm gives us time to regain the mainland.

"The 28th and 29th. Hunting detains my boatmen, who are in the best humor in the world, for flesh is the Paradise of a man of flesh.

"On the 30th and on the last day of August, the rain and wind annoy poor travelers who after toiling during the day, are badly used all night.

"September the first. I never saw so many deer; but we had no desire to hunt them, though my companion killed three almost in spite of himself. What a pity, for we left all the venison there, except some of the more delicate portions, and the skins.

"On the second of September, while proceeding across vast prairies, we see in different places large herds of elk; their horns resemble in many respects the antlers of a stag.

"The 3rd and 4th. Our success in hunting does not abate, game and venison appearing to follow us everywhere. Herds of twenty cows leap into the water, almost as if to come and meet us, and our men, for sheer sport, kill some of them with their hatchets.

"The 5th. We cover in one day the same distance that we scarcely accomplished in two long days' journey on our way up, through rapids and breakers.

"The 6th. Our Lachine Rapids frightens my men. They put me ashore 10 miles above the settlement of Montreal, and God gives me strength enough to reach that place before noon.

"The 7th. I pass on, and go down toward Three Rivers, where my boatmen wish to go.

"We arrived at Quebec only on the eleventh day of September of this year, 1654."

PLAN ADOPTED TO BEGIN A SETTLEMENT IN THE SPRING OF NEXT YEAR ON THE GREAT LAKE OF THE IROQUOIS (LAKE ONTARIO), AND TO ESTABLISH A MISSION THERE FOR ALL THOSE PEOPLES.

We have always wished for the Conversion of our enemies, even when their cruelty was directly opposed to the salvation of all these countries. Their fury laid waste the lands of the Algonquin and Huron Nations at the time when they were beginning to form a thoroughly Christian People; they cruelly burned both pastors and flock. But now the Iroquois are pressing us to go and instruct them; and they urgently requesting us to build on their Lake a French settlement that shall serve them as a sanctuary, and be a bond of peace between them and us.

After witnessing their proceedings, the Embassies and the presents to promote this end, the wisest of the French being of opinion that this was the only means of concluding a genuine Peace with those Infidel Nations, our Governor fortunately felt himself bound to grant them what both they and we desired.

our Governor -- seeing this door opened for the expansion of the Gospel, and recognizing the importance of this the only means apparent to us for preserving the Peace -- has already Commissioned a person of merit to take command of this new settlement. Our French on all sides vie with one another in volunteering to join the expedition.

The Iroquois themselves will come to convey us in their large canoes, after the snow and ice are melted; and they are to bring us some of their girls as hostages, whom the Ursuline Mothers will kindly receive in their house of charity, to make so many Christians of them. Father Simon Le Moyne is to return this autumn to winter with them.

The site which they have assigned to us For this new settlement is on the great Lake Ontario, who stretch away in a southerly direction. The region toward the Northwest is the former country of the Hurons, and offers the shortest route for carrying on trade with many populous Nations, who have always been allied to us, and have themselves many alliances with other more distant Nations.

CONDITION OF THE HURON COLONY ON THE ISLAND OF ORLEANS.

WHEN we left the Hurons, in 1650, after the country had been laid waste by the cruelty of the Iroquois, our plan was to take away with us the Christian families that could accompany us, and to save at least some remnants of a people whom God had called to the Faith and who should one day serve as seed for restoring Christianity in all these regions. Those who dispersed in other directions found the death from which they were fleeing, most failing to escape from the fury of the Iroquois, some being cruelly burnt and others killed on the spot or carried away captive; and it even happened that a number of them, after escaping from the enemy, met death at one another's hands, since there was no longer any form of Government among them or even any association in living, each looking out for himself as best he could, and the stronger oppressing the weaker for the sake of stealing the little that they possessed.

Those who followed us have found with us salvation of soul and of body. To give them a fixed abode (the Hurons not being a nomadic nation) they were assigned a section of the Island of Orleans, separated from the French, and in sight of Quebec, about 5 miles below it. We had to feed them, both adults and children, for the first two years, and build them a Church, and a fort to protect them against the invasions of the Iroquois, the fear of whom followed them everywhere. It was necessary to furnish them with kettles and hatchets, and even to provide clothing for the greater number of the families; and we have been obliged to continue this expenditure for a great many poor, sick, and disabled persons. We are their Fathers their Mothers, and their all.

The expenses incurred to support five or six hundred persons are excessive; but the Charity of the pious souls who have been willing to contribute toward this great outlay is still greater. Their modesty restrains my pen, and does not permit me to name them.

The order for coming to Prayers is signaled by three different strokes of the Bell. The first calls the members of the Congregation, the elite of the Christians; the second is for the others; and the third, for the children under fourteen or fifteen years of age, who are divided into two bands, the boys on one side and the girls on the other. Their modesty and devotion would put many a Frenchman to shame.

Upon leaving the Chapel, the children, divided again into two bands, enter our courtyard and are put through a short Catechism, those who answer well winning something for their breakfast. If any child has been guilty of improper conduct during the Prayers, both he and his companions are denied the usual favors for that day. The same rule is observed with the girls when any of them fails to show due respect in the Chapel. This acts as a powerful restraint on them, their companions reproaching them with their conduct -- a rebuke which, to them, is equal to a severe punishment.

Their voices are exceptionally beautiful, especially those of the girls, for whom there have been composed, and adapted to the airs of the Church Hymns, some Huron Melodies, which they sing in a charming manner. It is a consolation to hear the fields and woods resound so melodiously, in the midst of a country that no long time ago was called barbarous.

In former times, there was a form of superstition Which gave us much trouble to combat, singing in the presence of the sick to relieve their sufferings, with invocations to the demons of the illness. That custom has been turned into true devotion, the girl singers being called to the cabins of the sick, to sing the praises of God.

Formerly their dreams were the God of their hearts, but now God is in their dreams; for the greater number dream only of God, Paradise, or Hell, and of the Angels. A young man, mortally ill, saw approaching him (he is not certain whether or not it were in a dream) a child of rare beauty, who looked at him with eyes of love. He thinks that it was his guardian Angel. We know nothing more about it; but we do know that the Angels make no distinction between the Souls of the Indians and our own.

THE FIRST CONGREGATION OF OUR LADY AMONG THE INDIANS.

Those of our Fathers who have charge of the colony have, to inspire its members with greater fervor, formed a Congregation, to which they admit only those men and women who lead exemplary lives.

At first, the Congregation consisted of only ten or twelve persons, whose fervor was redoubled at seeing themselves chosen in preference to the others. The majority, seeing themselves excluded from membership, try to make themselves worthy of it, humbly asking our Fathers what they find to censure in their conduct; and declaring their readiness to correct it, and their wish to become children of Mary, or perish in the attempt.

The ambition of the members of the congregation is to be irreproachable in their morals. The young girls and women are shielded from nearly all temptation upon obtaining admission to the Congregation. "She is a daughter of Mary," it will be said to an immoral man; which means that he has nothing to hope.

These good members of the Congregation have adopted a pious practice of making a little present every Sunday to the Virgin, each one giving a wampum bead for each rosary recited during the week. The number of these beads, which are the pearls of the country, runs sometimes as high as seven or eight hundred; and their devotion has prompted them to make collars of these in the style of embroidery, in which, interweaving beads of violet and white wampum, they write what they wish to say in honor of the Virgin.

They have formed a kind of public treasury, made up from their little presents, which they use in helping the poor. We aid them in increasing this little treasure, having added to it some charitable contributions from France, and an offering of Charity from the Members of the Congregation at Paris. These good Huron members of the Congregation, meeting together a short time ago to thank them for their donations, decided to send them a collar on which are written, in black wampum upon a background of white, the words, Hail Mary; and they asked me to accompany this devout offering of theirs with a letter, which I wrote upon birchbark, our substitute for paper.

OBSERVATIONS TAKEN FROM LETTERS AND MEMOIRS THAT HAVE COME FROM THE COUNTRY.

From Three Rivers comes two items.

The first is that a band of Iroquois passed the winter among the Algonquins, and no disagreement was noted between those two Nations, until now the most arrogant and most hostile peoples under Heaven, so much so that the Iroquois never spared any Algonquin's life when they could capture one, or take him unawares, in the hunt which they carried on against human beings.

Not only have they come to a good understanding, but the Algonquins were so well pleased with their hosts that they permitted the widows and girls of their Nation to marry some Iroquois men. And you would say that God approved of these alliances; for when those Newly-married men were out hunting with their Christian wives, and found neither game nor venison, they said to them: "For some days now we have been hunting with dogs these great forests without finding anything. Why do you not pray to him who made the animals to give us some for our food, since you are acquainted with him?" Those good women began to pray, and asked God for something to eat as a Child would ask its Father. Strange to relate, although these Hunters had beaten up all the region around their Cabins without finding anything, yet the next day, in the same district, they came upon and killed a large Elk. They were astonished at this, and were filled with wonder at the effect of the Christians' prayer.

The second item is that at last Paul Tessouat, the famous one-eyed man, formerly Captain of the Kichesipirini Algonquins, who was the orator of his age in these parts, as well as the most forcible speaker of his time, at last, this man, all swelled up with pride, has died in Christian humility.

We are told that Noel Tekouerimat, Captain of the Christians of saint Joseph, at Sillery, is, by his example and courage, the prop of that new Church, presenting a sturdy front to a band of Algonquins who have little liking for the faith, and who, under protection of the Peace, have come and thrust themselves into his district. They have tried, with presents, blandishments, even with bold threats, to alienate him from us. After this great man had lost many fine children, God at last took away from him his little Benjamin, the one whom he loved most tenderly. The Enemies of the faith, thinking him shaken, criticized him in his affliction; but they found a head of iron, a heart of gold, and a mouth that emitted thunderbolts, although it was filled only with honey. Calling them together, he said to them: "If you choose to take your stand on God's side, I am yours; if not, know that all those who are deceitful of heart and false of tongue, all those who have two wives, all those who still use their drums and indulge in their superstitions, shall never enter the Fort of the Christians." He kept his word; if any of those unprincipled people made his appearance before Sillery, he forced him to plant his cabin outside of the enclosure that was built for the Christians.

A letter that has come from Sillery says that every day there are discovered new Nations of the Algonquin tongue. "I hope, some time," says one Father, "to see the lands, or, rather, the forests, that border Hudson Bay, where there are villages of Indians who speak like the Innu, whom we understand. Those tribes have never seen a single European; they still use stone hatchets, and they cook their meat in long vessels made of bark, which serve them as kettles, just as was formerly the custom among our Indians. They have no iron tools, all their implements being of bone, wood, or stone."

Another says that on certain Islands in Green Bay, who are inappropriately called by some "the Stinkards," (Winnebagos) -- there are many peoples whose language strongly resembles the Algonquin; and that it is only nine days' journey from this great Lake to the sea separating America from China. It is also said, if someone were found willing to send thirty Frenchmen to that country, not only would many souls be won to God, but also a profit would be derived in excess of the outlay required for the maintenance of the Frenchmen sent out, since the best furs come in the greatest abundance from those regions.

The Queen sent here, this last Spring, a number of deserving young women taken from honorable houses. No others are received into this new colony; and I know with certainty that, for the past eighteen years, he who has served as Executioner in this country was not called upon to exercise his trade, except in the case of two women of ill repute who were publicly whipped, and banished so. As long as those in authority shall forbid Vessels to bring in such contraband goods, so long will this Colony flourish.

But, to return to those good young Women; after a thousand dangers and a thousand squalls, God graciously permitted them to arrive safely in port, with a brave and high-spirited Amazon whom God had given them as guide. This was Mother Renee de la Nativite, Hospital Nun of the House of the Daughters of Mercy, at Quimper, in Brittany.

Let us now go down as far as Tadoussac. The new Christians of that district have there their winter and Summer quarters. In the Winter, they go into their great Forests to make war on the Bears, Elks, Caribous, Beavers, and other animals which serve to furnish their tables. Father Pierre Bailloquet, of our Jesuits, followed them into the woods this last winter. The Captain of Tadoussac had asked for him, and we learn by letter that he treated him very well. This good will is pleasing; but it did not prevent the Father from having the earth for bed and mattress, and strips of bark for a palace, which was filled less with air than with smoke; nor did it save him from passing several months without bread, without wine, without salt, and without any other sauce than appetite, which he did not satisfy often except with smoked flesh, that is, with Eels or meat dried in the smoke and filth of their cabins.

When winter expires in giving birth to Spring, all our Hunters go themselves, with all their goods, to the banks of the great River, at the Cove or Harbor which we call Tadoussac; and here, a public confession is held, without the rack, without torture, and without any coercion. There is said to be a country where the cold is so great as to freeze all words uttered there; and when spring approaches, upon these words thawing out, there is heard, almost in a moment, all that was said during the winter. Whatever may be the foundation of this story, all the evil that has been committed during the winter in these great woods is told to the Father publicly in April.

I cannot omit a deed of charity performed by a Young Christian woman called Antoinette Ouabistitecou. Before Baptism, the Indians used to love only their relatives; and if any child was bereft of its kinsfolk, they would kill it out of charity, saying that, as it had no one to take care of it, it would at last die a miserable death after a long period of suffering. Two poor little children, therefore abandoned in a wretched bark hut, without even the opportunity to make complaint to anyone of their misery, were in danger of receiving a hatchet-stroke from some pagan.

The older child was only about eleven or twelve years of age, and his sister was only four. The older child was afflicted in a frightful manner with scrofula on his neck, and his entire throat was being eaten away by it; while the little girl suffered from a hemorrhage which was reducing her to a skeleton. Our good Christian woman, seeing them afflicted with such foul diseases, in dirt, in filth, and in extreme destitution, took care of them as if they had been her own children. She washed them, went often to get fir-branches for them, these are used by the Indians as bedding, gave them food, prepared wood for them, and attended to their fire. She often rose in the night-time to help the little girl, and tried to procure for them all the delicacies that she could think of, asking the French for a few raisins or prunes to give to them.

The Captain of Tadoussac, delighted with such an example, delivered a speech in the middle of the night to all his people, crying out at the top of his voice: "We see, abandoned at our cabin-doors, not a couple of dogs, but human beings like ourselves. They are baptized as well as we are. You give your dogs something to eat, you caress them sometimes, you call them, and take them with you; and now that we are impatient to go into the woods, shall we abandon these poor children?" After this speech, he ordered his wife to give all the help she could to those poor little ones; and when they broke up camp he himself put them into his sailboat and took them to Sillery, or Saint Joseph, to receive assistance.

A Father, who has been far up the river Saguenay, informs us that he met, at Lac Saint-Jean, two Young Christian Indians who, surmising that they would find a Confessor in that region, had traveled 500 miles to come and confess, receive communion, and carry away with them a little Calendar which should tell them the feast-days of the whole year.

While the last Sheet of this Report was being Printed, we received a Letter from la Rochelle. It informs us that a Vessel, recently arrived from Canada, brings word that the lower Iroquois, whom we call the Mohawks, met, on the great Saint Lawrence River, a canoe or small boat, which, under the guidance of two Onondaga Iroquois, was carrying Father Simon Le Moyne to Montreal; that they killed one of his two conductors, and, after slaying some Hurons and Algonquins, seized the Father and bound him. His other guide, witnessing this deceit, uttered loud threats that his Compatriots would resent this treachery, that he did not care for the liberty which they gave him, and that he would share the fortunes of the Father. Since they had bound the Father, he said, let them couple the two together; for he would never abandon him. "If he is a prisoner," said he, "I am a prisoner with him. If you take his life, put me to death. If you set me free, unbind him."

Those traitors, fearing the threats of this Iroquois from the upper countries, unbound the Father and restored him to his Guide, who conducted him to Montreal. Then, according to the report brought by this Vessel, the upper Iroquois joined their forces with the French against the lower Iroquois. Whatever truth there may be in this news, I can make the following assertions with great probability.

First, the lower Iroquois -- who have become jealous of the upper Iroquois, because of the treaty of peace which the upper Iroquois were first to conclude with the French -- will not lightly allow these upper nations to come and trade with our French people; for they would no longer be compelled to pass through their Villages, which their route obliges them to do when they carry their merchandise to the Dutch.

Second, I know with certainty that it is easier for the upper Iroquois to come down to the French settlements than to visit the Dutch. Their Lake and our great River can bring them and all their goods easily to the warehouses of the French; but when they are forced to take the route leading to the Dutch, they suffer two great inconveniences. The first is that they are compelled to perform most of the journey by land and on foot, and to be their own beasts of burden for carrying their baggage and merchandise. The second arises from the insolence of the Mohawks, who, being the Masters of this trade, do not always treat the upper Iroquois with civility. Perhaps these conveniences and inconveniences will persuade the Onondagas, and the other Indians of the Upper countries, to break with the Mohawks, rather than with the French.

YEAR 1655
COPIES OF TWO LETTERS SENT FROM NEW FRANCE, THE FATHER PROCURATOR OF THE MISSIONS OF THE JESUITS IN THOSE COUNTRIES. 1655.

Of five ships that sailed from France this last year to convey aid to, and to trade in New France, one was captured by the English, another by the Spaniards; a third was lost at sea or on some shore, no news of it having ever been received. The two others arrived in that country, and then returned safely to France.

Not only have the merchants who were invested in those three Vessels incurred great loss, but the whole country has also suffered through this. For, besides the provisions that were being conveyed to the Governor and to private individuals, the aid sent by the Queen -- who takes a great interest in the preservation of New France, and in the conversion of the Indians -- was completely lost. The Hospital of God of Quebec, the Seminary of the Ursulines, the new Christians, and our Fathers who instruct them in various places, have been deprived of the greater portion of their subsistence.

To this misfortune was added another. A number of Letters, and even the Report of occurrences there for a year past, have been lost. The Messenger to whose care the recently-arrived packets were confided, was robbed between la Rochelle and Paris. A box filled with papers and Letters was broken, and all its contents were scattered by the robbers. The poor Messenger gathered up what he could, and brought it to us. From these papers we derive a portion of the little we are about to say.

The Report of last year stated that the five Iroquois Nations had entered into an earnest parley with the French, and with the natives, their Allies, with a view to peace. Four of those Nations persevered in their first plan of enjoying the sweet fruits of peace. They committed no hostile act; but, on the contrary, they gave proofs of their good will by presenting to the French some children, whom they had taken from more remote Indians who are their enemies. Only the Iroquois Nation called Mohawks, who trade with the Dutch, showed themselves deceitful and treacherous as usual. Those Barbarians attacked us at several places, but they experienced as many repulses on their side as we on ours. They killed everywhere, and everywhere they were killed.

They massacred one of our Jesuits named Jean Ligeois. That good Brother, for he was a Layman, hearing at a distance some musket shots, and knowing that the Christian Indians were in their fields and might be surprised by their foes, entered the woods to ascertain whether there were not some Mohawks in ambush. There were, indeed; and before he could discover them, they had pierced him with a musket shot; they cut off his head, which they left behind, after removing the scalp.

Mention is made in a private Letter of the courage of an Algonquin woman, who, when she saw her husband surprised and bound by five Iroquois, seized a hatchet and, with two blows, struck right and left, with astounding rapidity -- she killed two of those Barbarians on the spot; then, having promptly unbound her husband, she advanced to do the same to the three others, who, dismayed at that Amazon's furious onslaught, retained only sense enough to seek safety in flight.

Finally, after many massacres on either hand, after prisoners had been taken on both sides, those Barbarians -- weary of war, or inspired by some secret spirit more powerful than what possesses them -- brought back the French captives, and afterward asked that their prisoners be given back to them. This request was accompanied by a formal protestation that, according to their word, they would never attack the French again; but that they would continue the war against the Algonquins and the Hurons, and would massacre all whom they should meet above the French fortified Village called Three Rivers; that they would never appear in arms below that Village.

This agreement having been arrived at, Father Simon Le Moyne went with one Frenchman to their country, not only to take back the prisoners whom we had captured from them, but also to cement that peace, as well as it can be cemented with Infidels who are allied to Heretics.

While these events were passing, there came to Quebec some Onondaga Iroquois who inhabit the upper country, toward the source of the great river Saint Lawrence. These Ambassadors not only confirmed and ratified the peace which they had commenced in the previous year, but they also asked for and obtained two Fathers of our Jesuits-namely, Father Joseph Chaumonot and Father Claude Dablon -- to go and commence a Mission in their country. And having learned that the Mohawk Iroquois had refused to join in the general peace, they upbraided them; and after reproaching them with their deceit, they loudly protested that they no longer wished for war, against either the French, the Algonquins, or the Hurons. That is not all; even the Iroquois who are the farthest away, who are called the Senecas, also came to Quebec to declare that they desired peace.

This is an act of prudence on their part, for they are molested by a Nation whom our French have called the Eries, and they did not wish to have so many enemies on their hands at the same time. All those upper nations are displeased with the insolence of the Mohawk Iroquois; the open commerce with the French is more agreeable to them than the difficult roads that they have until now followed in passing through the country of the Mohawks to seek the Dutch. This is what we have learned from some Letters, and from the mouths of those who have recently returned from New France.

We now come to the two Letters which we promised to give. It will be easy to understand them, after what we have just said.

"Reverend Father,

You will have learned from our previous letters that thirty persons, most of whom are Iroquois men and women, for those good people have brought their wives with them as a token of peace, are taking Father Chaumonot and Father Dablon to their country.

At Quebec, this 13th of October, 1655.

Francois le Mercier."

HERE IS THE SECOND LETTER SENT TO THE SAME FATHER.

"My Reverend Father,

For some days contrary winds have detained in our Roadstead of Quebec the Ship that was to leave here at the beginning of this month. It will sail tomorrow morning, the eighteenth of October; today, just at nightfall, a Canoe of Seneca Iroquois has arrived, bringing us news of peace on all sides. Their chief object is to assure us -- by a special Embassy, and by the presents that they bring -- that they wish only for peace, and that they will never go to war against us. On their way, they met some Onondagas, who are carrying in their Canoes Father Chaumonot and Father Dablon to their country, there to commence a new Mission. They assure us that those people are full of affection and of respect for their guests.

At the same time, some Hurons who have come from the Iroquois of the lower country, called Mohawks, also tell us that they saw on the way Father Simon Le Moyne, with his company; and that their Mohawk Guides showed a Friendly spirit toward them, such as they showed to us during their Embassy. These same Hurons say that, on their departure from the Iroquois Villages, news had already been received of the Fathers' approach, and of the peace made with us. This had been received with such public rejoicings that men, women, and children, Warriors and Captains, and the Elders of the country -- who are the Councilors of State -- had uttered exclamations of joy. These cries dispelled the sorrow that would have been caused them by the news, which they received at the same time, of the capture and death of some of their people, who were burned by the Hurons and the Algonquins. Thus you see that what I stated at the beginning of this letter is true, that news of peace comes to us from all sides, that is, from all the Iroquois Nations.

Francois le Mercier.

At Quebec, On The Night Of The 17th Of October, 1655."

I shall add a few more words to these two Letters. "Nothing is spoken of here" (says one of those who write) "except Baptisms, Marriages, and buildings; and no one dies here except of old age or by violent death."

One of the Mistresses of the Seminary of the Ursulines writes me marvelous accounts of the gentleness and intelligence of the children born in the country, both French and Indians. She says that the Iroquois who came down to Quebec, and who went to visit them in their parlors, were delighted when they saw the gracefulness of the little Indian girls, who had been reared in the French manner. They asked how long it took to frenchify a girl, and to teach her what the little Hurons did. The Iroquois women, to whom the Ursuline Mothers gave a feast, could not contain themselves. "The eyes of the Chieftainess," to make use of the expressions written in my paper, "were captivated at the sight of a young Seminarist named Marie Arinadsit. She began to read before them in Latin, in French, and in Huron; and she sang Hymns in those three Languages. Then those good people were quite beside themselves, asking how long it took to learn so many things, and to frenchify an Indian girl so well; and they promised that they would send their children to so good a school."

The first thing that Strangers do who come to Quebec is to go and see the Virgin girls, that is, the Nuns. They admire their charity, especially at the Hospital, where they see the sick cared for with such cleanliness, such neatness, and such charity, by gentle, modest, and reserved maidens, that they are astonished at it.