amiscou_, mon frere le Capitaine, nous t'apporterons la chair d'vn Castor, & me firent bien entendre qu'elle ne seroit point bouquanée, ils sçauẽt bien que les François n'ayment point leur bouquan, c'est de la chair seichée à la fumée, ils n'ont point d'autre sel que la fumée pour conseruer leur viande. The 6th of August, monsieur Emery de Caën coming to see us in our little house, distant a good half-league from the fort, remained to dine with us. While we were at the table, two families of Savages, men, women, and little children, approached the spot where we were. The outside door of our house being open, all is open, the English having broken the others; that is why these simple people were in the room, where we were, before we were aware of it. They wanted to ask me to keep some of their baggage for them. I noticed their patience, for, although they had [54] started on a long journey which they were going to make, nevertheless they did not interrupt us once during the dinner, nor afterwards while they saw me with our Captain. They sat down in one place or another, and I had a piece of bread, of which they are very fond, given to each of them. At last, monsieur de Caën having departed, one of them approached me and said: _Ania Kir Capitana?_ "My brother, art thou Captain?" They were asking for the superior of the house. They call their Captain "Sagamore," but by associating with the Europeans they have come to use the word _Capitana_. Our Brother answered them, _eoco_; that is to say, "yes." Thereupon he made a speech to me, saying that they were going hunting or fishing for Beavers, and that I should keep their baggage; that they would return when the leaves fell from the trees. They asked me very [55] often if thieves ever came into our house, and very carefully scrutinized the places where their baggage might be best concealed. I answered that everything was safe in our house, and having shown them a little room which could be locked, they seemed very happy, placing therein three or four packages covered very neatly with the bark of trees, telling me that they contained great riches. I do not know what is there; but, at the best, all their riches are only poverty. Their gold and silver, their diamonds and pearls, are little white grains of porcelain which do not seem to amount to much. Having piled up their baggage, they asked me for a knife, and I gave them one; then they asked me for some string to tie to an iron arrow-point or dart, with barbed teeth. They throw these [56] darts against the Beavers, and hold the end of the string, letting it go to the bottom of the water where the wounded Beaver dives; and, when it has lost blood and become weak; they draw it back by this string, of which they never let go until they have their prey. Having