On the ninth of December, the very next day after the feast of the Conception, sieur Jean Nicolet,[29] Interpreter for the Algonquins at the three Rivers, came to inform the Fathers who lived in the Residence of the Conception, situated at the same place, that a young Algonquin was sick, and it would be well to visit him. The Fathers immediately hastened to his Cabin, and asked his father's permission to instruct him; God seemed to have prepared the hearts of these Barbarians, whom we had presented to him in our vows the day before. This poor Barbarian appeared very glad at the good that was being done to his son; Father Buteux instructed him; and, as the sick man was an Algonquin, and only half understood the Montagnese tongue, which [27] the Father used, a Savage woman, well versed in both these languages, served as interpreter, allowing the faith and Christian truths to flow from her lips into the soul of this poor young man without retaining them for herself,--precisely like those canals or aqueducts which discharge whole fountains of water, without reserving any for themselves. Finally, on the twelfth of the month, seeing their patient was sinking, they baptized him, after having given him instruction, and named him Claude; he died shortly afterwards, pronouncing the holy names of +JESUS+ and +MARY+. His parents asked the Fathers if they would not like to have his body placed near the French. "That is indeed our desire," they answered. "We will show him an honor," we told them, "that we would refuse to the greatest Captain in the world, if he were not a Christian." "Hasten then and prepare what is necessary to bury him in your way," they said, "since he is yours." A fine escort was formed, consisting of all our Frenchmen; and after them came the Savages, two by two, with a modesty which savored in no wise of Barbarians. After the burial, the father of the dead man [28] gave a feast to the Savages, during which,--as he did not eat, according to their custom, now singing, now talking,--he said, "I have lost my courage, the death of my son has undone me; at other times I have seen myself in the hands of our enemies, about to be cut to pieces and torn by their teeth, and I have never lost courage; I ought not to lose it now, for I have something to console me, since my son, if he had lived, would not have failed to wreak vengeance upon the Hiroquois." And turning towards the Fathers, "You have greatly soothed my grief, by rendering the last honors to my son." Such was the discourse of this poor Barbarian at the obsequies of his son, whose thoughts are now quite different in heaven.