Toward evening, when we were all in our new cabin, I approached and called her by name. She never would talk with me in the presence of the others. I begged the Sorcerer to tell her to answer me, and to help me teach her, showing him that nothing but good could come of this action. He would not answer me any more than the invalid. I addressed the Apostate, urging him with very humble prayers to lend me his voice, but no answer; I return to the sick woman, I call her by name, I speak to her, I ask her if she does not wish to go to Heaven; to all this not a word. I again beg her husband, the Sorcerer; I promise him a shirt and some tobacco, if he will tell his wife to listen to me. "How canst thou ask us," he said, "to [255] believe in thy God, never having seen him?" "I have already answered that question for thee," I returned; "this is no time to argue, this soul is going to be forever lost if thou dost not have pity. Thou seest well that he who has made the Heavens for thee, wishes to give thee greater blessings than to go about eating bark in a village which never existed; but he will also severely punish thee if thou dost not believe in him and obey him." Not being able to draw any answer from this miserable man, I again urged the sick woman. My host, hearing me call her by name, chided me, saying, "Keep still, do not name her; she is already dead, her soul is no longer in her body." It is a great truth that no one goes to +JESUS CHRIST+ until the father extends to him the hand. How wonderful a gift is this faith! When these simple Barbarians see that a poor invalid no longer speaks, or that he has fainted, or been seized by a frenzy, they say that the spirit is no longer in the body; and, if the invalid returns to his senses, it is the spirit which has returned. Finally, when he is dead, they must no longer speak of him, nor name him in any way. To finish this story, [256] I had to retire without accomplishing anything. On tint conseil en ce lieu de ce qu'on deuoit faire pour trouuer à manger, nous estions desia reduits à telle extremité que ie fa[i]sois vn bon repas d'vne peau d'anguille boucannée, que ie iettois aux chiens quelques iours auparauant. Deux choses me toucherent ici le cœur: jettant vne fois vn os, ou vne arreste d'anguille aux chiens, vn petit garçon fut plus habile que le chien, il se jetta sur l'os & le rongea & mangea: vne autre fois vn enfant ayant demandé à manger, comme on luy eust respõdu qu'il n'y en auoit point, ce pauure petit s'en prit à ses yeux, les larmes rouloient sur sa face grosses commes des pois, & ses souspirs & ses sanglots me touchoient de compassion, encor taschoit il de se cacher: c'est vne leçon qu'on fait aux enfans de se monstrer courageux dans la famine.