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