Obs: This Hot-house is a kind of little Cell or Cave, six or eight foot over, round, made on the side of a hill (commonly by some Rivulet or Brooke) into this frequently the Men enter after they have exceedingly heated it with store of wood, laid upon an heape of stones in the middle. When they have taken out the fire, the stones keepe still a great heat: Ten, twelve, twenty more or lesse, enter at once starke naked, leaving their Coats, small breeches, (or aprons) at the doore, with one to keepe all: here doe they sit round these hot stones an houre or more, taking tobacco, discoursing and sweating together; which sweating they use for two ends: First, to cleanse their skin: Secondly, to purge their bodies, which doubtlesse is a great meanes of preserving them, and recovering them from diseases, especially from the French disease, which by sweating and some potions, they perfectly and speedily cure: when they come forth (which is matter of admiration) I have seen them runne (Summer and Winter) into the brookes to coole them, without the least hurt. Misquineash, The vaines. Miqui, neépuck, Blood. Nsauapaushaûmen, I have the bloody Flixe. Matux puckquatchìck aûwaw, He cannot goe to stool. Powwaw, Their Priest. Maunêtu, A Conjurer. Powwâw nippétea, The priest is curing him. Yo wutteantawaw, He is acting his cure. Obs: These Priests and Conjurers (like Simon Magus) doe bewitch the People, and not onely take their Money, but doe most certainly (by the helpe of the Divell) worke great Cures, though most certaine it is that the greatest part of their Priests doe merely abuse them and get their Money, in the times of their sicknesse, and to my knowledge long for sick times; and to that end the poore people store up Money, and spend both Money and goods on the Powwâws, or Priests in these times, the poore people commonly dye under their hands, for alas, they administer nothing but howle and roar, and hollow over them, and begin the song to the rest of the people about them, who all joyne (like a Quire) in Prayer to their Gods for them. Maskit ponamíin, Give me a Plaister. Maskit, Give me some physicke. Cotatamhea, Drinke. Both which they earnestly desire of the English and doe frequently send to myselfe and others for, (having experimentally found some Mercy of that kind (through God’s blessing)) from us. Nickeétem, I am recovered. Kitummâyi nickêekon, I am just now recovered. _Generall Observation of their Sicknesse._