"A snake is not so easily killed," he answered in indifference. "I struck but once, and not very hard as I rank blows, yet the fellow has not stirred since. 'T is well for him to remain quiet until I finish this repast, for I am of a merciful disposition when my carnal requirements are properly ministered unto. Faith, had my eyes not fallen on the food I might have got both the fellows."
Paying slight heed to his gossip I bent over the priest, rubbing his limbs until the blood began to circulate. Before the testy sectary had ended his munching, the old savage was sitting up, his back propped against a rock, the firelight playing over his wrinkled face, as he gazed at us, yet dazed and frightened. This was one whom I had never before seen; there was something of distinction about him, both as regards face and costume, which instantly convinced me he held high rank in the tribe—no doubt the chief priest. His sharp, black, malicious eyes wandered unsteadily from the Puritan to myself, as if he sought to regain his scattered senses. Finally he ventured a single word of inquiry:
"Français?"
"No," I answered shortly, speaking deliberately in French, hopeful he might know something of the tongue. "We are not of that people, yet I speak the language."
"I glad you not Français," he said brokenly, yet intelligibly, his tone gruff, his accent guttural; "but I talk you some in that tongue."
"How come you to speak French?"
His lean face hardened. As he bent forward, his fingers clinched convulsively. At first I thought he would not answer.
"'T was much time since I learn; when I was young man," he answered slowly, recalling the unfamiliar words. "Then no snow in hair, no lame in leg, and my people dwell beside the great river toward the sun-rising. We were a great nation, with slaves to work our land, warriors to fight our battles, and priests to make sacrifice. Then we had much of treasure from our fathers." He bowed his head, mumbling indistinctly; then continued, as if talking to himself, after the fashion of the aged: "Long time before that there came to our village men in canoes, floating down the great river out of the north. They were of white face, and wore shining things on their bodies and heads, and bore in their hands that which spouted fire and death. This was before I was born, yet I was told it often of my fathers. My people believed them children of the Sun, because of their white faces and light hair; they were made welcome, taken into the house of the altar, fed, warmed, and loved. I know not who they were, or whence they came, yet they spoke this tongue, did point at themselves and say 'Français,' and told of a mighty King away off, and worshipped before a cross-piece of wood. My people knew not what to make of them; yet they were not afraid, and treated the strangers with kindness, and there was no war between them. He who seemed their leader had one hard hand of metal, and they named him 'Tonty.' Know you such a man of your color?"
"No," I answered, already deeply interested in his simple story. "That was all before my time, nor do I even remember hearing the name till now, yet there were Frenchmen upon the great river full a hundred years ago, I have been told. 'Twas most likely they who came to your people. Did they do harm to your fathers?"
"They passed away in peace," he continued, using the language with greater ease as he proceeded, "for we were then strong, and of courage in battle; the fire bright on our altars. Nor did we look again upon any white face for so long a time that this visit became no more than a tradition among the people. More and more did the fathers believe this Tonty was a visitant from the Sun—many there were who worshipped him as a god. When he left he said he would come again, and with every sunrise the eyes of my people were turned in watching up the river. Then, when I was but a child, there came to our village canoes from below, from the way of the salt water. They did land, unmolested of our people, who supposed Tonty had come back; fair-faced men with yellow hair and beards and dressed in shining metal from head to heel. I was at the shore with the others when they came, and heard them speak in this tongue, and call themselves Français. Others of that race followed, and we welcomed and fed them all, even as our fathers had done to Tonty. Some were warriors with swords, and fire-sticks, but with these were also some strange, black-robed men, who sought to tell us of another God, greater than the Sun our fathers worshipped. They had pictures, and crosses of wood, and prayed to these as we to the Sun. But we believed not in their God, and tried to drive them away from our village when they put out our fires, for they made much trouble among our people, so that the priests came to hate them—the black-robes. Some among them went, but one would not go, and so we made offering of him in sacrifice to the Sun. Then we thought we were rid of the black-robes, and could again live as we had been taught of our fathers."