these Indian strangers and those of my old acquaintance of the five
nations. Godefroi was employed in interpreting to me all their
pleasantries; and I thought them the most agreeable ralliers I had ever
met with. As all men love those who resemble themselves, the sprightly
manners of the French cannot fail to recommend them to these savages, as
our grave deportment is an advantage to us among our Indian neighbors;
for it is certain that a reserved Englishman differs not more from a
lively Frenchman than does a stern Mohawk from a laughing Chippawaw.
The next day (27th) we arrived at the Swifts,[7] six leagues from the
mouth of the river, and the Uttawaw chief sent to his village for horses.
Soon after a party of young Indians came to us on horseback, and the two
Canadians and myself having mounted, we proceeded, together with the
twelve Indians my escort, who were on foot, and marched in the front,
the chief carrying English colours, towards the village, which was two
leagues and a half distant. On our approaching it, I was astonished to
see a great number of white flags flying; and, passing by the encampment
of the Miamis, while I was admiring the regularity and contrivance of
it, I heard a yell, and found myself surrounded by Pondiac’s army,
consisting of six hundred savages, with tommahawks in their hands, who
beat my horse, and endeavoured to separate me from my Indians, at the
head of whom I had placed myself on our discovering the village. By
their malicious smiles, it was easy for me to guess their intention of
putting me to death. They led me up to a person, who stood advanced
before two slaves (prisoners of the Panis nation, taken in war and kept
in slavery[8]) who had arms, himself holding a fusee with the butt on the
ground. By his dress, and the air he assumed, he appeared to be a French
officer: I afterwards found that he was a native of old France, had been
long in the regular troops as a drummer, and that his war-name was St.
Vincent. This fine dressed half French, half Indian figure desired me
to dismount; a bear-skin was spread on the ground, and St. Vincent and
I sat upon it, the whole Indian army, circle within circle, standing
round us. Godefroi sat at a little distance from us; and presently came
Pondiac, and squatted himself, after his fashion, opposite to me. This
Indian has a more extensive power than ever was known among that people;
for every chief used to command his own tribe: but eighteen nations, by
French intrigue, had been brought to unite, and chuse this man for their
commander, after the English had conquered Canada; having been taught
to believe that, aided by France, they might make a vigorous push and
drive us out of North America. Pondiac asked me in his language, which
Godefroi interpreted, “whether I was come to tell lies, like the rest
of my countrymen.” He said, “That Ononteeo (the French king) was not
crushed as the English had reported, but had got upon his legs again,”
and presented me a letter from New Orleans, directed to him, written in
French, full of the most improbable falsehoods, though beginning with
a truth. The writer mentioned the repulse of the English troops in the
Mississippi, who were going to take possession of Fort Chartres,[9]
blamed the Natchez nation for their ill conduct in that affair, made our
loss in that attack to be very considerable, and concluded with assuring
him, that a French army was landed in Louisiana, and that his father
(the French king) would drive the English out of the country. I began to
reason with him; but St. Vincent hurried me away to his cabin; where,
when he talked to me of the French army, I asked him if he thought me
fool enough to give credit to that account; and told him that none but
the simple Indians could be so credulous. Attawang, the Uttawaw chief,
came to seek me, and carried me to his cabin. The next day (28th) I went
to the grand council, and addressed the chiefs. When I mentioned that
their father, the king of France, had ceded those countries to their
brother the king of England, (for so the two kings are called by the
Indians) the great Miamis chief started up and spoke very loud, in his
singular language, and laughed. Godefroi whispered me, that it was very
lucky that he received my intelligence with contempt and not anger,
and desired me to say no more, but sit down, and let my chief speak;
accordingly I sat down, and he produced his belts, and spoke. I have
called the Miamis tongue a singular language; because it has no affinity
in its sound with any other Indian language which I have heard. It is
much wondered whence this nation came; who differ as much from all the
other nations in their superstitious practices, as in their speech,
and manner of encamping.[10] As they left the Uttawaw villages before
me on their way home, we traced their encampments, where we saw their
offerings of tobacco, made by every individual each morning, ranged in
the nicest order, on long slips of bark both on the shore, and on rocks
in the river. They carry their God in a bag, which is hung in the front
of their encampment, and is visited by none but the priest; if any other
person presumes to advance between the front of the encampment and that
spirit in the bag, he is put to death: and I was told that a drunken
French soldier, who had done so, was with great difficulty saved. When
the council was over, St. Vincent changed his note, and told me that
if I could ensure to him his pardon, he would go to Detroit. I answered
him, “that it was not in my power to promise it.” However, as I found
that I could not well do without him, I contrived to make him my friend.
Pondiac said to my chief: “If you have made peace with the English, we
have no business to make war on them. The war-belts came from you.” He
afterwards said to Godefroi: “I will lead the nations to war no more; let
’em be at peace, if they chuse it: but I myself will never be a friend
to the English. I shall now become a wanderer in the woods; and if they
come to seek me there, while I have an arrow left, I will shoot at them.”
This I imagined he said in despair, and gave it as my opinion, that he
might easily be won to our interest; and it afterwards proved so. He
made a speech to the chiefs, who wanted to put me to death, which does
him honour; and shews that he was acquainted with the law of nations:
“We must not,” said he, “kill ambassadors: do we not send them to the
Flat-heads, our greatest enemies,[11] and they to us? Yet these are
always treated with hospitality.” The following day (29th) the Mohawk,
who commanded the Indians in the provision-boat, stole away, without
taking my letter to General Bradstreet, as he had been ordered, having,
the night before, robbed us of almost every thing, and sold my rum (two
barrels) to the Uttawaws. The greater part of the warriors got drunk;
and a young Indian drew his knife, and made a stroke at me; but Godefroi
seized his arm, threw him down, and took the knife from him. He certainly
saved my life, for I was fitting, and could not have avoided the blow
though I saw it coming. I was now concealed under my matress, as all the
young Indians were determined to murder me, was afterwards obliged to put
on Indian shoes and cover myself with a blanket to look like a savage,
and escape by fording the river into a field of Indian corn with St.
Vincent, Godefroi, and the other Canadian. Pondiac asked Godefroi, who
returned to the village to see what was going on, “what he had done with
the English man.” And being told, he said, “you have done well.” Attawang
came to see me, and made his two sons guard me. Two Kickapoo chiefs came
to me, and spoke kindly, telling me that they had not been at war with
the English for seven years. Two Miamis came likewise, and told me that I
need not be afraid to go to their village. A Huron woman however abused
me because the English had killed her son. Late at night I returned to
Attawang’s cabin, where I found my servant concealed under a blanket,
the Indians having attempted to murder him; but they had been prevented
by St. Vincent. There was an alarm in the night, a drunken Indian having
been seen at the skirt of the wood. One of the Delaware nation, who
happened to be with Pondiac’s army, passing by the cabin where I lay,
called out in broken English: “D—d son of a b—ch.” All this while I saw
none of my own Indians: I believe their situation was almost as perilous
as my own. The following day (30th) the Miamis and Kickapoos set out on
their return home, as provisions were growing scarce. An Indian called
the little chief, told Godefroi that he would send his son with me, and
made me a present of a volume of Shakespear’s plays; a singular gift from
a savage. He however begged a little gunpowder in return, a commodity
to him much more precious than diamonds. The next day (31st) I gave
Attawang, who was going to Detroit, a letter for General Bradstreet,[12]
and to one of my servants whom I sent along with this chief, I gave
another for his Aid de Camp. And now, having purchased three horses and
hired two canoes to carry our little baggage, I set out once more, having
obtained Pondiac’s consent, for the Illinois country, with my twelve
Indians, the two Canadians, St. Vincent’s two slaves, and the little
chief’s son and nephew. There was scarcely any water in the channel of
the river, owing to the great drought, so that the canoes could hardly
be dragged along empty in some places. We passed by the island where is
Pondiac’s village, and arrived at a little village consisting of only two
pretty large cabins, and three small ones, and here we encamped: that is,
we lay on the ground; and as a distinguished personage, I was honoured by
having a few small branches under me, and a sort of basket-work made by
bending boughs with their ends fixed in the earth, for me to thrust my
head under to avoid the musketoes or large gnats with which that country
is infested. The day following (August 1st)[13] arrived St. Vincent and
Pondiac. The latter gave the former the great belt, forty years old, on
which were described two hundred and ten villages. St. Vincent joined
us, and we set forward, and arrived at another village of the Uttawaws,
the last of their villages we had to pass. One of the chiefs of this
village gave me his hand, and led us into the cabin for strangers, where
was Katapelleecy, a chief of very great note, who gave his hand to all
my fellow-travellers, but not to me. This man was a famous dreamer, and
told St. Vincent that he had talked with the great spirit the preceding
night; and had he happened to dream any thing to my disadvantage the
night I lay there, it had been over with me.[14] The Indian who gave me
his hand, went into the upper range of beds, and came down dressed in a
laced scarlet coat with blue cuffs, and a laced hat. I wondered more at
the colour of the cloaths than at the finery; and was told that it was a
present from the English, and that this Indian had conducted Sir William
Johnson to Detroit.[15] The next morning (2d) he told me the English
were liars; that if I spoke falsehoods he should know it, and asked
why the General desired to see the Indians at Detroit, and if he would
cloathe them. I assured him that the General sought their friendship;
and gave him, at his own request, a letter of recommendation to him. We
then continued our route towards the Miamis country, putting our baggage
into the canoes, but the greater part of us went by land, as the water
was so shallow, that those who worked the canoes were frequently obliged
to wade and drag them along. We met an Indian and his wife in a canoe
returning from hunting; and bought plenty of venison ready dressed, some
turkeys, and a great deal of dried fish for a small quantity of powder
and shot. The following day (3d) we were over-taken by Pondiac’s nephew
and two other young Uttawaws, who, with the Chippawaws before-mentioned,
made the party twenty-four. We met an Indian who, as we afterwards
found, had been despatched to Pondiac with belts from the Shawanese and
Delawares; but he would not stop to talk to us. This day I saw made the
most extraordinary meal to which I ever was or ever can be witness. Till
these last named Indians joined us we had killed nothing but a very
large wild cat, called a pichou,[16] which indeed was very good eating:
but this day we eat two deer, some wild turkeys, wild geese, and wild
ducks, besides a great quantity of Indian corn. Of the wild ducks and
Indian corn we made broth; the Indians made spoons of the bark of a tree
in a few minutes, and, for the first time, I eat of boiled wild duck.
When we marched on after dinner, I could perceive no fragments left.
What an Indian can eat is scarcely credible to those who have not seen
it. Indeed the Frenchmen, who had been used to savage life, expressed
their astonishment at the quantity which had been devoured. The next day
(4th) we found plenty of game, having sufficient time to hunt for it, as
the canoes were for the greatest part of the day dragged along, there
not being water sufficient to float them. The day after (5th) we met an
Indian on a handsome white horse, which had been General Braddock’s,
and had been taken ten years before when that General was killed on his
march to Fort du Quesne, afterwards called Fort Pitt, on the Ohio. The
following day (6th) we arrived at a rocky shoal, where the water was not
more than two or three inches deep, and found a great number of young
Indians spearing fish with sticks burnt at the end and sharpened; an art
at which they are very dexterous; for the chief, who steered my canoe
with a setting-pole (no oars being used the whole way), whenever he saw a
fish, used to strike it through with his pole, though the end had been
blunted and made as flat and broad as a shilling, pin it to the ground,
then lift it out of the water, and shake it into the boat. I never saw
him miss a fish which he took aim at. The day after, on the seventh of
September, in the morning we got into easy water, and arrived at the
meadow near the Miamis fort, pretty early in the day. We were met at the
bottom of the meadow by almost the whole village, who had brought spears
and tommahawks, in order to despatch me; even the little children had
bows and arrows to shoot at the Englishman who was come among them; but I
had the good fortune to stay in the canoe, reading the tragedy of Anthony
and Cleopatra, in the volume of Shakespear which the little chief had
given me, when the rest went on shore, though perfectly ignorant of their
intention, I pushed the canoe over to the other side of the river, where
I saw a man cutting wood. I was surprised to hear him speak English. On
questioning him I found he was a prisoner, had been one of Lieutenant
Holmes’s garrison at the Miamis Fort, which officer the Indians had
murdered, a young squaw whom he kept having enticed him out of the
garrison under a pretext of her mother’s wanting to be bled. They cut
off his head, brought it to the fort, and threw it into the corporal’s
bed,[17] and afterwards killed all the garrison except five or six whom
they reserved as victims to be sacrificed when they should lose a man in
their wars with the English. They had all been killed except this one man
whom an old squaw had adopted as her son. Some years afterwards, when I
lay on board a transport in the harbour of New York, in order to return
to Europe, Sir Henry Moore, then governor of that province,[18] came to
bid me adieu, and was rowed on board by this very man among others. The
man immediately recollected me; and we felt, on seeing each other, what
those only can feel who have been in the like situations. On our arrival
at the fort, the chiefs assembled, and passed me by, when they presented
the pipe of friendship; on which I looked at Godefroi, and said: “Mauvais
augure pour moi.” A bad omen for me. Nor was I mistaken; for they led
my Indians to the village, on the other side of the water, and told me
to stay in the fort with the French inhabitants; though care had been
taken to forbid them to receive me into their houses, and some strings
of wampum, on which the French had spoken to spare my life, had been
refused. We wondered at this treatment, as we expected that I should be
civilly received; but soon learned that this change of temper was owing
to the Shawanese and Delawares, a deputation of fifteen of them having
come there with fourteen belts and six strings of wampum; who, in the
name of their nations, and of the Senecas, declared they would perish
to a man before they would make peace with the English: seven of them
had returned to their villages; five were gone to Wyaut [Ouiatonon];
and three had set out the morning I had arrived for St. Joseph;[19] (a
fortunate circumstance for me, for they had determined to kill me). The
Shawanese and Delawares begged of the Miamis either to put us to death
(the Indians and myself) or to tie us and send us prisoners to their
villages, or at least to make us return. They loaded the English with
the heaviest reproaches; and added, that while the sun shone they would
be at enmity with us. The Kiccapoos, Mascoutins, and Wiatanons, who
happened to be at the Miamis village declared, that they would dispatch
me at their villages, if the Miamis should let me pass. The Shawanese and
Delawares concluded their speeches with saying: “This is the last belt
we shall send you, till we send the hatchet; which will be about the end
of next month (October).” Doubtless their design was to amuse General
Bradstreet with fair language, to cut off his army at Sandusky, when
least expected, and then to send the hatchet to the nations: a plan well
laid; but of which it was my good fortune to prevent them from attempting
the execution. To return to myself: I remained in the fort, and two
Indian warriors (one of whom was called Visenlair) with tommahawks in
their hands, seized me, one by each arm; on which I turned to Godefroi,
the only person who had not left me, and cried out to him, seeing him
stand motionless and pale: “Eh bien! Vous m’abandonnez donc?” Well then!
You give me up? He answered: “Non, mon capitaine, je ne vous abandonnerai
jamais,” No, my captain, I will never give you up; and followed the
Indians, who pulled me along to the water-side, where I imagined they
intended to put me into a canoe; but they dragged me into the water. I
concluded their whim was to drown me, and then scalp me; but I soon found
my mistake, the river being fordable. They led me on till we came near
their village; and there they stopped and stripped me. They could not get
off my shirt, which was held by the wrist bands, after they had pulled
it over my head; and in rage and despair I tore it off myself. They then
bound my arms with my sash, and drove me before them to a cabin, where
was a bench, on which they made me sit. The whole village was now in an
uproar. Godefroi prevailed with St. Vincent, who had followed us to the
water-side, but had turned back, to come along with him; and encouraged
Pondiac’s nephew and the little chief’s son to take my part. St. Vincent
brought the great belt, and Pondiac’s nephew spoke. Nanamis, an Indian,
bid Godefroi take courage, and not quit me. Godefroi told le Cygne, a
Miamis chief, that his children were at Detroit; and that, if they killed
me, he could not tell what might befal them. He spoke likewise to le
Cygne’s son, who whispered his father, and the father came and unbound
my arms, and gave me his pipe to smoke. Visenlair, upon my speaking, got
up and tied me by the neck to a post. And now every one was preparing to
act his part in torturing me. The usual modes of torturing prisoners are
applying hot stones to the soles of the feet, running hot needles into
the eyes, which latter cruelty is generally performed by the women, and
shooting arrows and running and pulling them out of the sufferer in order
to shoot them again and again: this is generally done by the children.
The torture is often continued two or three days, if they can contrive
to keep the prisoner alive so long. These modes of torture I should not
have mentioned, if the gentleman who advised me to publish my journal,
had not thought it necessary. It may easily be conceived what I must have
felt at the thought of such horrors which I was to endure. I recollect
perfectly what my apprehensions were. I had not the smallest hope of
life; and I remember that I conceived myself as it were going to plunge
into a gulf, vast, immeasurable; and that, in a few moments after, the
thought of torture occasioned a sort of torpor and insensibility; and I
looked at Godefroi, and seeing him exceedingly distressed, I said what I
could to encourage him: but he desired me not to speak. I supposed that
it gave offence to the savages, and therefore was silent; when Pacanne,
king of the Miamis nation, and just out of his minority, having mounted
a horse and crossed the river, rode up to me. When I heard him calling
out to those about me, and felt his hand behind my neck, I thought he
was going to strangle me out of pity: but he untied me, saying (as it
was afterwards interpreted to me) I give that man his life. “If you want
meat (for they sometimes eat their prisoners) go to Detroit, or upon the
lake (meaning go face your enemies the English) and you’ll find enough.
What business have you with this man’s flesh, who is come to speak to
us?” I fixed my eyes steadfastly on this young man, and endeavoured by
looks to express my gratitude. An Indian then presented me his pipe; and
I was dismissed by being pushed rudely away. I made what haste I could to
a canoe, and passed over to the fort, having received on my way a smart
cut of a switch from an Indian on horseback. Mr. Levi, a Jew trader, and
some soldiers, who were prisoners, came to see me. Two very handsome
young Indian women came likewise, seemed to compassionate me extremely,
and asked Godefroi a thousand questions. If I remember right, they were
the young king’s sisters. Happy Don Quixote, attended by princesses! I
was never left alone, as the wretches, who stripped and tied me, were
always lurking about to find an opportunity to stab me. I lay in the
house of one L’Esperance, a Frenchman. The next day my Indians spoke on
their belts. The two wretches still sought an opportunity to kill me.
The day following the Miamis returned their answer: “That we must go
back;” shewed the belts of the Senecas, Shawanese, and Delawares; gave
my Indians a small string of white wampum; and told them: “to go and
inform their chiefs of what they had seen and heard.” While the council
sat I was concealed in L’Esperance’s garret, as Godefroi was obliged
to attend it. Being determined at all events to get into the Illinois
country if possible, St. Vincent and I agreed, that he should endeavour
to gain le Cygne and the young king to attend me to Wyaut: but, in the
middle of the night, St. Vincent came and awoke me, told me that two
Frenchmen were just arrived from St. Joseph, and that the Delewares, who
were there, were coming back to the Miamis village. He advised me to send
for my chief immediately, and tell him, for his own safety as well as
mine, to try to get leave to go away in the morning, (for the Miamis had
appointed the next day but one for our departure). This was accordingly
done, and leave obtained. I went to visit le Cygne, who told me, “that he
would have been glad to have attended me to Wyaut; but that he could not
think of leading me to my death: for that there were so many tommahawks
lifted up there, that he should have trembled to have gone himself.” I
gave notes to Pacanne and Pondiac’s nephew, setting forth that they had
saved my life, and entreating all Englishmen to use them kindly. (Pacanne
shewed his paper to Colonel Croghan, when he made his tour through the
Indian country, and the Colonel was pleased to bring him to Detroit,
and, at a private meeting appointed for that purpose, sent for me, and
gave me a very handsome present to lay at his feet). We gave all our
blankets and shirts to those Indians who had done us service; and hearing
that the chiefs were in council, and talked of not allowing me to return
with my party, but of detaining me prisoner; and my Indians themselves
appearing uneasy, having left my money and baggage with one Capucin, a
Frenchman, I hurried away about noon, vexed at heart that I had not been
able to execute the orders I had received. I gave General Bradstreet’s
letter for Monsieur St. Ange, the French commandant at Fort Chartres, to
St. Vincent, to deliver to that officer; and signed a certificate which
he was pleased to put into my hands, specifying that, on many occasions,
he had saved my life. Fear lent wings to my Indians this day; and we
continued our march till it was quite dark, being apprehensive of an
attack. We set out very early the next morning; and as nothing worthy of
observation happened, my thoughts were taken up during this day’s journey
in admiring the fine policy of the French with respect to the Indian
nations; of which, from among a thousand, I shall select two remarkable
instances, which I mention as not only worthy of imitation, but to wear
out of the minds of such of my countrymen as have good sense and humanity
the prejudices conceived against an innocent, much-abused, and once happy
people; who have as deep a sense of the justice and benevolence of the
French, as of the wrongs and haughty treatment which they have received
from their present masters. The first of these is the encouragement given
by the French court to marriages betwixt its subjects and Indian women;
by which means Lewis got admission into their councils, and all their
designs were known from their very birth. Add to this, that the French
so entirely won their affections by this step, that to this hour the
savages say, that the French and they are one people. The next instance
is, the prohibiting the sale of spirituous liquors to Indians, under pain
of not receiving absolution: it is what the French call a _cas reservé_;
none but a bishop can absolve a person guilty of it. This prevented many
mischiefs too frequent among the unfortunate tribes of savages, who are
fallen to our lot. From drunkenness arise quarrels, murders, and what
not? for there is nothing, however shocking and abominable, that the
most innocent of that innocent people are not madly bent on when drunk.
From imposing on the drunken Indian in trade, abusing his drunken wife,
daughter, or other female relation, and other such scandalous practices
arise still greater evils. When such things are done (and they are done)
can we wonder that the Indians seek revenge? The ill conduct of a few
dissolute pedlars has often cost the lives of thousands of his Majesty’s
most industrious subjects, who were just emerging from the gloom of toil
and want, to the fair prospect of ease and contentment. The following
day, while we were shooting at some turkeys, we discovered the cabins of
a hunting party on the opposite side of the Miamis river; the men were
in the woods; but a squaw came over to us, who proved to be the wife
of the little chief. Godefroi told her that I was gone to the Ilinois
country with her son. She informed us that the Indians were not returned
from Detroit; and added that there were four hundred Delawares and three
hundred Shawanese (as she had been told) at the Uttawaw villages, who
wanted to go and set fire to that place. We were sure that this piece
of news about the Shawanese and Delawares was false, as the Uttawaws
themselves wanted provisions: but my Indians believed it, and it served
to bring them over at once to my way of thinking, which was, to pass
through the woods, and avoid the villages of the Uttawaws. They were all
much alarmed, but in particular the Huron of Loretto. This regenerate
monster of the church, this Christian savage,[20] who spoke French
fluently, had the cruelty and insolence to tell me, that as I could
not march as fast as the rest, I must take an old man and a boy (both
lame) and make the best of my way: that the chief would go with me,
and he would conduct the other[s], who were eleven in number, and all
able men. I spoke to him with gentleness, and begged that he would not
think of separating from us; on which he said something, that I did not
understand, in his language which resembles that of the five nations,
and of course was understood by my chief, and which vexed him so much,
that he told me, “I might go by myself;” but I found means to pacify him.
I now told Godefroi, who was of himself so determined, that he would
of course go with me. Upon this the Huron gave us very gross language;
and indeed such stubborn impudence I never saw. He told the chief that
if he suffered me to take my horses with me, we should be discovered,
but I obtained the chief’s consent to take them a little way. I then
proposed going into the wood to settle the distribution of our provisions
and ammunition; but the Huron would listen to nothing: so leaving him
and his party, consisting of ten, with my best horse, which he said he
would turn loose as soon as he should get a little way further, I struck
into the wood with Godefroi, the chief, the old Indian, and the Indian
boy; Godefroi and myself on horseback. We went North East from twelve
o’clock till two; from two to five we went North; and finding a pool of
water, we took up our lodgings there. The next day we continued our route
North, North East, being as nearly as we could guess in the course of the
Miamis river. We endured great thirst all this day. About three o’clock
we reached the swamps, which, by the dryness of the season, might have
passed for meadows, and not finding any water, about five o’clock we made
a hole, two feet deep, with our hands, (for we had no kind of tool fit
for that use) where some tall, broad grass grew; and getting good water,
though very muddy, we made a fire, and determined to pass the night by
the side of our little well. We travelled in the swamps the following day
till half an hour after one o’clock, at which time we came to open woods,
having found water in two places on our way; but we could find none when
we wanted to repose ourselves at the close of day. We therefore set to
work, as the day before, and made a hole four feet deep in a place which
must be a swamp in the wet season: but it was three hours before we got
a draught of what I might rather call watery mud than muddy water. We
were forced from want of water to stew a turkey in the fat of a racoon;
and I thought I had never eaten any thing so delicious, though salt was
wanting: but perhaps it was hunger which made me think so. We heard
four shots fired very near us just before dark; we had a little before
discovered the tracks of Indians, and they undoubtedly had discovered
ours, and, supposing us friends, fired to let us know were they were.
These shots alarmed our chief, and he told me that I must leave my horses
behind. I bid Godefroi drive them to some little distance from us, and
let them go: accordingly he went towards the place where we had left
them, as if he intended to do so; but, unknown to me, wisely deferred
it till morning, hoping our chief would change his mind. This night the
chief, seeing me writing by the light of the fire, grew jealous, and
asked if I was counting the trees. The next morning the chief being a
little intimidated, instead of going East North East, as agreed on the
night before, in order to draw near the Miamis river, went due North; by
which means he led us into the most perplexed wood I ever saw. He had my