"They must have been pretty angry with you."
"They were just boiling over, and at the same time they kind of liked me for it, too.
"They were St. Francis Indians. There were ten of them under their chief, Francis Titigaw. They took us up to the Connecticut River, where we were joined by two Indians who had been left there. Then we went to the upper Coos Intervale. Three of the Indians were sent with Eastman to the village of St. Francis. The rest of us hunted on a small creek. They let me do a little trapping, and gave me the skins of a couple of beavers that I killed.
"Early in June we arrived at St. Francis, and they made Eastman and me run the gauntlet. The young Indians formed two lines, and we were to run down between them. Each Indian had a club or stick, and they gave Eastman and me two poles about eight feet long, with the skin of an animal or bird tied to the end.
"They taught us some words to sing as we passed down the line, and pretty sassy words they were. Eastman sang, 'I'll beat all your young men.' This made the young braves angry and every one struck at him, so that he was pretty well used up when he got through the lines.
RUNNING THE GAUNTLET
"When my turn came, I sang, 'I'll kiss all your young women.' I had a good, strong pole, and made up my mind that I would not be the only one who got the blows. As I ran through the lines, I whacked away, right and left, and this surprised them so much that I got through with but little harm. Perhaps you think, as others do, that there is no fun in an Indian. But the old men who sat near by were immensely tickled as their young men went down, and they showed their pleasure.
"The first man who struck me was a young fellow eighteen or nineteen years old. I knocked him down, and he felt so small about it that I did not see him again while I was with them.
"An Indian doesn't work. He makes his squaws and prisoners do that. They set me at work with the squaws, hoeing corn. I hoed up the corn instead of the weeds. They tried to make me hoe the right way. But I made up my mind that if they wouldn't hoe corn, I wouldn't. I threw my hoe into the river, and told them that I was a warrior and not a squaw to hoe corn.
"Instead of being angry with me, they liked me for this, and the old chief adopted me.