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