“Awhile, awhile, Alphonse—be not too hasty, my son;” was the reply of Laudonniere. He continued, addressing himself to the Paracoussi:
“My red brother thinks he understands the French. He is mistaken. He will grow wiser before he grows much older. But it will be time then that I should teach him. It matters now only, that I should say to the Paracoussi Utina, we want, and you have plenty. We have fought your battles. We are your friends. We will trade with you for mil and beanes. Give us of these, according to our need, and you shall have of the merchandize of the French in just proportion. Let it be so, brother, that peace may still flourish between our people.”
“There is mil and beanes before my white brother. Let him take and divide among his people.”
“But this will not suffice for a single meal. Does the Paracoussi laugh to scorn the sufferings of my people?”
“The Paracoussi laughs because the granaries of the red-men are full. There is no famine among his people. Hath the Great Spirit written that the red-man shall gather food in the proper season that the white man may sleep like the drowsy buffalo in the green pasture? Let my white brother drive from his ear the lying bird that sings to him: ‘Sleep—take thy slumber under the pleasant shade tree, while the people of Utina get thee food!’”
“Would the Paracoussi make the Frenchmen his enemies? Is their anger nothing? Is their power not a thing to be feared?”
“And what is the Paracoussi Olata Ovae Utina? Hath he not many thousand warriors? The crane that rises in the east in the morning, though he flies all day, compasses not the land at sunset, which belongs to my dominions. East and west my people whoop like the crane, and hear no birds that answer but their own. Let my pale brother hush, for he speaks a foolish thing of his warriors. Did I dream, or did any runners tell me that the bones of the Frenchmen break through the skin, lacking food, and their sinews are so shrunken that they can never more strive in battle? Who shall fear them? I had pity on my brother when I heard these things. I sent him food, and bade my people say—‘take this food which thou needest; the great Paracoussi asks for nothing in recompense, but thy guns, thy swords, and thy lances; weapons which they tell me thou hast strength to use no longer.’”
“Did they tell thee so, Utina? But thou shalt see. Once more, my brother, I implore thee to give us of thy abundance, and we will cheerfully impart to thee from our store of knives, reap-hooks, hatchets, mirrors, and lovely beads, such as will delight thy women. Here, behold,—this is some of the treasure which I have brought thee for the purposes of barter.”
The lordly chieftain deigned not a single glance to the European wares, which, at a word from Laudonniere, one of the French soldiers laid at his feet. The French captain, as if loth to proceed to extremities, continued to entreat; while every new appeal was only answered, on the part of the savage prince, with a new speech of scorn, and new gestures of contempt. At length, Laudonniere’s patience was exhausted, and he gave the signal which had been agreed upon with his lieutenant. In the next moment, the quick grasp of Alphonse D’Erlach was laid upon the Paracoussi’s shoulders. He attempted to rise, and to grasp, at the same time, the macana which lay at his feet. But D’Erlach kept him down with his hands, while his foot was struck down upon the macana. In that moment, the war-conch was sounded at the entrance by several Indians who had been in waiting. It was caught up and echoed by the bugles of D’Erlach; the blast of which had scarcely been heard throughout the village, before it had been replied to, four several times, from as many different points where the French force had been stationed, ten soldiers in each. One desperate personal struggle which the Paracoussi made, proved fruitless to extricate him from the grasp of his captor; and he then sat quietly, without a word, coldly looking his enemies in the face.