Then she gott me Indian corne toasted, & took away ye paint
ye fellows had stuck to my face. A maide greased & combed my haire, & ye
olde woman danced and sung, while my father bourned tobacco on a stone.
They gave me a blew coverlitt, stockings, and shoes. I layed with her
son & did what I could to get familiarity with ^ them, and I suffered no
wrong, yet I was in a terror, for ye fatal songs came from ye poore
Hurrons. Ye olde man inquired whether I was Afferony, a ffrench. I
affured him no, faying I was Panugaga, that is of their nation, for
which he was pleased.
My father feasted 200 men. My sisters made me clean for that purpose,
and greased my haire. They tyed me with 2 necklaces of porcelaine &
garters of ye same. My father gave me a hattchett in my hand.
My father made a speech, showing many demonstra-tions of vallor, broak a
kettle of cagamite with a hattchett. So they sung, as is their usual
custom. Ye banquette being over, all cryed to me "Shagon, Orimha"--that
is "be hearty!" Every one withdrew to his quarters.
Here follows a long account of his daily life among the Indians, his
hunting and observations, which our space forbids. He had become
meanwhile more familiar with the language. He goes on:
My father came into ye cabbin from ye grand castle & he sat him downe to
smoke. He said ye Elders had approved after much debate, & that ye
ffrench dogg was not a witch, but ye great warrior Mahongui, gone
before, whose spirit had rose up into ye ffrench dogg & had spyed ye
ffrench.
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