comme nous estions venus, sans baptiser l'enfant, ne iugeant pas sa maladie mortelle, la fiebure quoy que bien grande estãt intermittente. The next day Father de Nouë and I went to see the child. Our fear lest he should die without being baptized made us set out in the midst of very stormy weather; the wind and rain seemed bent on breaking and drowning everything. I also wanted to go and hear the confession of a Bengalese, who had been wounded, and had sent for me. He is a young man brought from the East Indies, who had been converted to Christianity in France, and has been passing the winter here with us. I saw him, and consoled him as best I possibly could. As to the little Savage, having presented myself at one of the doors of the Cabin, they said to me: _aouesse_, "go away." But, having heard my voice, they told me to come in by the other door; I went in, while Father de Nouë was seeking the [260 i.e., 160] Interpreter. A woman stopped me at the first step, saying, _appitou_, "sit thee down there." I answered her, "yes, I want to see the child." "Wait, wait," said she to me, "thou shalt see him." The greatest sorcerer they have among them, according to the Interpreter, who arrived shortly afterward, sang and blew upon the child to cure him. They had made a little retreat where the child was. Two or three times I tried to get near it, but was not permitted. The Savages stopped me every time. I waited until this fine doctor had treated his patient; the child, naked as one's hand, lay in a cradle of bark, upon pulverized rotten wood. He was burning with a high fever; and this charlatan, to cure him, was beating upon and whirling around an instrument full of little stones, made exactly like a [261 i.e., 161] tambourine. With all this he howled immoderately. In a word, he and his companion, in order to cure this little boy of a fever, made enough noise to give one to a healthy man. The sorcerer approached the patient, and blew all over the body, as I conjectured, for I could not see what he was doing, but I heard his breath drawn from the depths of his stomach. He beat the tambourine in the child's ears, during which there was great silence among the other Savages who were in the same cabin. His medicine having been given, he called me and told me I might then see the child, and that I should give him my opinion; as to him, he believed that the child had something or other black in his body, and it was that which made him sick. Behold the result of this great noise. I approach, I feel the pulse of the child, I discover a raging fever; and I tell him that he has a sickness [262 i.e., 162] which we call fever, that he must be left to rest, and not be killed by this great noise which makes him worse; that recently I had an attack of fever, and that rest had cured me.