Thus we journied 8 days on ye Lake Champlaine, where ye wind and waves did sore beset our endeavors att times. As for meate we wanted none, as we had a store of staggs along ye watter-side. We killed some every day, more for sport than for need. We finding them on Isles, made them go into ye watter, & after we killed above a score, we clipped ye ears of ye rest & hung bells on them, and then lett them loose. What a sport to see ye rest flye from them that had ye bells!
There came out of ye vast forest a multitude of bears, 300 at least together, making a horrid noise, breaking ye small trees. We shott att them, butt they stirred not a step. We weare much frightened that they stirred nott att our shooting. Ye great ffrench dogg would fain encounter them notwithftanding he was tyed. He made ye watter-side to ring with his heavy voise & from his eyes came flames of fyre & clouds from out his mouth. The bears did straightway fly which much cheered ye Iri-quoits. One said to me they weare resolved nott to murder ye dogg, which was a stone-God in ye dogg shape, or a witch, butt I could nott fully understand. Ye wild men said they had never heard their fathers speak of so many bears.
When we putt ye kettle on, ye wild man who had captured me, gave me of meate to eat, & told me a story. “Brother,” says he, “itt is a thing to be admired to goe afar to travell. You must know that tho I am olde, I have always loved ye ffrench for their goodness, but they should have given us to kill ye Algonkins. We should not warre against ye ffrench, butt trade with them for Castors, who are better for traffic than ye Dutch. I was once a Captayne of 13 men against ye Altignaonan-ton & ye ffrench. We stayed 3 whole winters among ye Ennemy, butt in ye daytime durst not marche nor stay out of ye deep forest. We killed many, butt there weare devils who took my son up in ye air so I could never again get him back. These devils weare as bigg as horriniacs, [moose] & ye little blue birds which attend upon them, said itt was time for us to go back to our people, which being resolved to do, we came back, butt nott of a fear of ye Ennemy. Our warre song grew still on our lipps, as ye snow falling in ye forest. I have nott any more warred to the North, until I was told by ye spirits to go to ye ffrench & recover my son. My friend, I have dreamed you weare my son;” and henceforth I was not hurted nor starved for food.
We proceeded thro rivers & lakes & thro forests where I was made to support burdens. When we weare come to ye village of ye Iriquoits we lay in ye woods because that they would nott go into ye village in ye night time.
The following day we weare marched into ye brough [borough] of ye Iriquoits. When we came in fight we heard nothing butt outcryes from one side, as from ye other. Then came a mighty host of people & payd great heed to ye ffrench dogg, which was ledd bye 2 men while roundabout his neck was a girdle of porcelaine. They tormented ye poore Hurrons with violence, butt about me was hung a long piece of porcelaine—ye girdle of my captor, & he stood against me. In ye meanwhile, many of ye village came about us, among which a goode olde woman & a boy with a hattchett came neere me. Ye olde woman covered me, & ye boy took me by my hand and led mee out of ye companie. What comforted me was that I had escaped ye blowes. They brought me into ye village where ye olde woman fhowed me kindness. She took me into her cottage, & gave me to eat, butt my great terror took my stum-ack away from me. I had stayed an hour when a great companie came to see me, of olde men with pipes in their mouths. For a time they sat about, when they did lead me to another cabbin, where they smoked & made me apprehend they should throw me into ye fyre. Butt itt proved otherwise, for ye olde woman followed me, speaking aloud, whome they answered with a loud ho, then shee tooke her girdle, and about me she tyed itt, so brought me to her cottage & made me to sitt downe. Then she gott me Indian corne toasted, & took away ye paint ye fellows had stuck to my face. A maide greased & combed my haire, & ye olde woman danced and sung, while my father bourned tobacco on a stone. They gave me a blew coverlitt, stockings, and shoes. I layed with her son & did what I could to get familiarity with them, and I suffered no wrong, yet I was in a terror, for ye fatal songs came from ye poore Hurrons. Ye olde man inquired whether I was Afferony, a ffrench. I affured him no, faying I was Panugaga, that is of their nation, for which he was pleased.
My father feasted 200 men. My sisters made me clean for that purpose, and greased my haire. They tyed me with 2 necklaces of porcelaine & garters of ye same. My father gave me a hattchett in my hand.
My father made a speech, showing many demonstrations of vallor, broak a kettle of cagamite with a hattchett. So they sung, as is their usual custom. Ye banquette being over, all cryed to me “Shagon, Orimha”—that is “be hearty!” Every one withdrew to his quarters.
Here follows a long account of his daily life among the Indians, his hunting and observations, which our space forbids. He had become meanwhile more familiar with the language. He goes on: