"Stop! Let us see how he will go on." said the son. The father began to sing (and if _I_ remember right, beat the drum also). Shortly after the bark began {32} to move, and as the old fellow raised his voice, so did its motion increase, 'till at last it began whirling round with great violence, sometimes one way and then another, 'till it was wound up close to the stick, when it began changing sides--sometimes _upon_ & sometimes _below_ the stick. He ceased, began to talk with us and saying he was afraid it would not _answer_. Thus he did three times, and the bark moved every time with the same violence. Now he desired, in the beginning, that if his _familiar_ would have compassion on him, he would render these three moose foolish that they might not be possessed of their usual cunning. The next day we went out, the old man, his son and myself, a hunting. We were hungry; we walked till late in the day, and finding no tracks, I proposed our return. But he told me we ought to proceed, for in the low ground beyond a small ridge then near in sight of us we may perhaps find some tracks. "I am never deceived when I am answered (my bark dances)." We soon reached this low ground and shortly after heard a noise: jumping, running, and breaking of sticks. "Ah! Here they are!" said the old man. "See how their _head_ is turned! What a noise they make, how they play. They are foolish." We killed them all. If you doubt me, ask any of the Indians, and see if they won't all tell you that _he_ does so when he wants to kill. [As Love Potions (Baptiste's Stories)] Another story: for _love potions_ or philters are also composed of this. There were several young men (half-breeds) of us together, and also some young women who came with us to await the arrival of their husbands from Fort William at _that_ place. Two of our party wanted to pay them a _visit_ in the night. And I endeavoured to dissuade them, but to no purpose. They went, and met with the reception I foretold. They began bawling out, and on purpose, to awake every one near and shame us, for we were lodging by ourselves. And then [they] took good cudgels and pursued them into our place. _We_ enjoyed this confusion of the others though partly at our own expense. One of them then addressed me. "Come Baptiste, this _bitch_ has vexed me. I know you have _good medicine_. Give me some of it that I may laugh at her in my turn." (I must tell you that one of them I have known many years back was, and is still, a _bitch_--i.e. according the Indian acceptation (as well as our own) of the term. And the man is the same one I mentioned little above, at the conclusion and beginning of pp. 30 and 31.)