On the night after Whitsuntide, he and his forces crept into the plain adjoining the town, and employed themselves till morning in collecting droves of horses, and in wounding the oxen with spears. At break of day, as I was performing divine service, Pachieke and Zapancha, who were sent by Debayakaikin to challenge the townsmen to join battle with him, arrived. Ychoalay replied, in the name of the rest, that they did not want courage to accept the challenge, but horses to convey them to the place appointed for the combat; which, as the enemy had themselves taken in the night, they might now make use of for the purpose of approaching the town, where he and his people would await them in battle-array. And, in fact, the Abipones, assembling from all quarters, soon formed an army, the front of which Ychoalay occupied on horseback. Whilst Ychoalay was sharpening the point of his lance on a whetstone in our court-yard, and greasing it with tallow that it might enter more readily into the flesh, I spoke to him about baptism, knowing that the weapons of all would be directed particularly at him, and endeavouring, at all events, to secure his salvation. But alas! I preached to deaf ears, so far was he from listening or attending to me, and so entirely engrossed by warlike affairs. From such mighty preparations for war, what could be expected but fields smoking with blood? Yet nothing but noise ensued; and the day passed entirely without slaughter: for about noon, as we were standing in form of battle, and expecting every moment the attack of the enemies, Debayakaikin at length made answer by the mouth of a herald, that he did not judge it expedient to join battle in sight of the town, where, he doubted not, we had a supply of muskets; deterred by a groundless apprehension of which, he departed without attempting any thing further. After weathering so great a storm, we were surprized, about evening, by another, which was the more terrible from being unforeseen. Ychoalay suddenly interrupted me as I was conversing with Father Brigniel. "Ho! you Fathers," said he, with an unusually gloomy countenance, "my whole nation, weary of this colony, and of the friendship of the Spaniards, intend desertion—nor can I blame them. On account of the Spaniards, we have taken up arms against our countrymen and relations, and have combated them to this very day, with fortune, alas! how various! They have been our enemies ever since we professed ourselves the friends of the Spaniards and their firm defenders against Debayakaikin, Oaherkaikin, and their followers! How many droves of horses have they taken from us; how many wounds have they inflicted on us: how many deaths of our fellow-soldiers have they caused us to lament! The Spaniards were not ignorant of all this, yet they quietly looked on, and never seriously thought of lending us the promised assistance. On this account it is that the minds of my comrades are