IT is so I have called this old document, which is an extract from the memoirs of le Chevalier Bailloquet, a Frenchman living in Canada, where he was engaged in the Indian fur trade, about the middle of the seventeenth century, and as yet they are unpublished.

It is written in English, since the author lived his latter life in England, having left Canada as the result of troubles with the authorities.

He was captured by the Iroquois, and after living with them some time, made his escape to the Dutch.

My Chevalier rambles somewhat, although I have been at pains to cut out extraneous matter. It is also true that many will not believe him in these days, for out of their puny volition they will analyze, and out of their discontent they will scoff. But to those I say, Go to your microbes, your statistics, your volts, and your bicycles, and leave me the truth of other days.

The Chevalier was on a voyage from Quebec to Montreal; let him begin:

The next day we embarqued, though not without confusion, because many weare not content, nor satisfied. What a pleasure ye two fathers to see them trott up and downe ye rocks to gett their manage into ye boat. The boats weare so loaded that many could not proceed if foul weather should happen. I could not persuade myself to stay with this concourse as ye weather was faire for my journie. Without adoe, I gott my six wild men to paddle on ye way.

This was a fatal embarquation, butt I did not mistrust that ye Iriquoits weare abroad in ye forest, for I had been at ye Peace. Nevertheless I find that these wild men doe naught butt what they resolve out of their bloodie mindedness. We passed the Point going out of ye Lake St. Peter, when ye Barbars appeared on ye watter-side discharging their muskets at us, and embarquing for our pursuit.

“Kohe—kohe!”—came nearer ye fearsome warre cry of ye Iriquoit, making ye hearts of ye poore Hurron & ffrench alike to turn to water in their breasts. 2 of my savages weare strook downe at ye first discharge & another had his paddle cutt in twain, besides shott holes through with the watter poured apace. Thus weare we diminished and could not draw off.

The Barbars weare daubed with paint, which is ye signe of warre. They coming against our boat struck downe our Hurrons with hattchetts, such as did not jump into the watter, where also they weare in no wise saved.

But in my boat was a Hurron Captayne, who all his life-time had killed many Iriquoits & by his name for vallor had come to be a great Captayne att home and abroad. We weare resolved some execution & with our gunns dealt a discharge & drew our cutlasses to strike ye foe. They environed us as we weare sinking, and one spake saying—“Brothers, cheere up and assure yourselfe you shall not be killed; thou art both men and Cap-taynes, as I myself am, and I will die in thy defense.” And ye afforesaid crew shewed such a horrid noise, of a sudden ye Iriquoit Captayne took hold about me—“Thou shalt not die by another hand than mine.”

Ye savages layd bye our armes & tyed us fast in a boat, one in one boat and one in another. We proceeded up ye river, rather sleeping than awake, for I thought never to escape.

Att near sunsett we weare taken on ye shore, where ye wild men encamped bye making cottages of rind from off ye trees. They tyed ye Hurron Captayne to a trunk, he resolving most bravely but dessparred to me, and I too dessparred. Nevertheless he sang his fatal song though ye fire made him as one with the ague. They tooke out his heart and cut off some of ye flesh of ye miserable, boyled it and eat it. This they wished not to doe att this time, but that ye Hurron had been shott with a ball under his girdle where it was not seen, though he would have died of his desperate wound. That was the miserable end of that wretch.

Whilst they weare busy with ye Hurron, they having stripped me naked, tyed me above ye elbows, and wrought a rope about my middle. They afked me several questions, I not being able to answer, they gave me great blows with their fists, then pulled out one of my nails. Having lost all hopes, I resolved altogether to die, itt being folly to think otherwise.

I could not flee, butt was flung into a boat att daylight. Ye boats went all abreaft, ye wild men singing some of their fatal songs, others their howls of victory, ye wild “Kohes,” beating giens & parchments, blowing whistles, and all manner of tumult.

Thus did we proceed with these ravening wolves, God having delivered a Chriftian into ye power of Satan.

I was nott ye only one in ye claws of these wolves, for we fell in with 150 more of these cruels, who had Hurron captyves to ye number of 33 victimes, with heads alsoe stuck on poles, of those who in God's mercie weare gone from their miseries. As for me, I was put in a boat with one who had his fingers cutt & bourned. I asked him why ye Iriquoits had broak ye Peace, and he said they had told him ye ffrench had broak ye Peace; that ye ffrench had set their pack of doggs on an olde Iriquoit woman who was eat up alive & that ye Iriquoits had told ye Hurron wild men that they had killed ye doggs, alsoe Hurrons and ffrench, saying that as to ye captyves, they would boyl doggs, Hurrons, and ffrench in ye same kettle.

A great rain arose, ye Iriquoits going to ye watter-side did cover themselvs with their boats, holding ye captyves ye meanwhile bye ropes bound about our ancles, while we stood out in ye storm, which was near to causing me death from my nakedness. When ye rain had abated, we pursued our way killing staggs, & I was given some entrails, which before I had only a little parched corne to ye extent of my handfull.

At a point we mett a gang of ye head hunters all on ye shore, dancing about a tree to which was tyed a fine ffrench mastiff dogg, which was standing on its hinder leggs, being lashed up against a tree by its middle. Ye dogg was in a great terror, and frantic in its bonds. I knew him for a dogg from ye fort att Mont-royal, kept for to give warnings of ye Enemy's approach. It was a strange sight for to see ye Heathen rage about ye noble dogg, but he itt was nevertheless which brought ye Barbars against us. He was only gott with great difficulty, having killed one Barbar, and near to serving others like-wise.

They untyed ye dogg, I holding him one side, and ye other, with cords they brought and tyed him in ye bow of a boat with 6 warriors to paddle him. Ye dogg boat was ye Head, while ye rest came on up ye river singing fatal songs, triumph songs, piping, howling, & ye dogg above all with his great noise. Ye Barbars weare more delighted att ye captyve dogg than att all of us poore Christians, for that they did say he was no dogg. Ye doggs which ye wild men have are nott so great as wolves, they being little else & small att that. Ye mastiff was considered as a consequence to be a great interest. This one had near defeated their troupe & now was to be horridly killed after ye bloody way of ye wild men.

Att camp they weare sleep most of ye night, they being aweary with ye torture of ye Hurron Captayne previously. Ye dogg was tyed & layd nott far off from where I was alsoe tyed, butt over him weare 2 olde men, who guarded him of a fear he would eat away his ropes. These men weare Elders or Priests, such as are esteemed for their power over spirits, & they did keep up their devil's song ye night thro.

I made a vertue of necessity & did sleep, butt was early cast into a boat to go on towards ye Enemy's countrie, tho we had raw meat given us, with blows on ye mouth to make us ye more quickly devour itt. An Iriquoit who was the Captayne in our boat, bade me to be of a good courage, as they would not hurt me. Ye fmall knowledge I had of their speech made a better hope, butt one who could have understood them would have been certainly in a great terror.

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:

My father came into ye cabbin from ye grand castle & he sat him downe to smoke. He said ye Elders had approved after much debate, & that ye ffrench dogg was not a witch, but ye great warrior Mahongui, gone before, whose spirit had rose up into ye ffrench dogg & had spyed ye ffrench. Att ye council even soe ye dogg had walked into ye centre of ye great cabbin, there saying loudly to ye Elders what he was & that he must be heard. His voice must be obeyed. His was not ye mocking cryes of a witch from under an olde snake-skin, butt a chief come from Paradise to comfort his own people. My father asked me if I was agreed. I said that witches did not battile as openly as ye dogg, butt doe their evil in ye dark.

These wild men are sore beset with witches and devils—more than Christians, as they deserve to be, for they are of Satan's own belonging.

My father dreamed att night, & sang about itt, making ye fire to bourne in our cabbin. We satt to listen. He had mett ye ffrench dogg in ye forest path bye night—he standing accross his way, & ye forest was light from ye dogg's eyes, who spake to my father saying, “I belong to ye dead folks—my hattchett is rust—my bow is mould—I can no longer battile with our Ennemy, butt I hover over you in warre—I direct your arrows to their breasts—I smoothe ye little dry sticks & wett ye leaves under ye shoes—I draw ye morning mist accross to shield you—I carry ye 'Kohes' back and fore to bring your terror—I fling aside ye foeman's bulletts—go back and be strong in council.”

My father even in ye night drew ye Elders in ye grand cabbin. He said what he had seen and heard. Even then the great ffrench dogg gott from ye darkness of ye cabbin, & strode into ye fyre. He roared enough to blow downe caftles in his might & they knew he was saying what he had told unto my father.

A great Captayne sent another night, & had ye Elders for to gather at ye grande cabbin. He had been paddling his boat upon ye river when ye dogg of Mahongui had walked out on ye watter thro ye mist. He was taller than ye forest. So he spake, saying “Mahongui says—go tell ye people of ye Panugaga, itt is time for warre—ye corne is gathered—ye deer has changed his coat—there are no more Hurrons for me to eat. What is a Panugaga village with no captyves? Ye young men will talk as women doe, & ye Elders will grow content to watch a snow-bird hopp. Mahongui says itt is time.”

Again att ye council fyre ye spirit dogg strode from ye darkness & said itt was time. Ye tobacco was bourned by ye Priests. In ye smoke ye Elders beheld ye Spirit of Mahongui. “Panugaga—Warre.”

Soe my father saw ye ghost of ye departed one. He smoked long bye our cabbin fyre. He sang his battile song. I asked him to goe myself, even with a hattchett, as I too was Panugaga. Butt he would in no wise listen. “You are nott meet,” he says, “you sayest that your God is above. How will you make me believe that he is as goode as your black coats say? They doe lie & you see ye contrary; ffor first of all, ye Sun bournes us often, ye rain wetts us, ye winde makes us have shipwrake, ye thunder, ye lightening bournes & kills us, & all comes from above, & you say that itt is goode to be there. For my part, I will nott go there. Contrary they say that ye reprobates & guilty goeth downe & bourne. They are mistaken; all is goode heare. Do nott you see that itt is ye Earthe that nourishes all living creatures—ye waiter, ye fishes, & ye yus, and that corne & all other fruits come up, & that all things are nott soe contrary to us as that from above? Ye devils live in ye air & they took my son. When you see that ye Earthe is our Mother, then you will see that all things on itt are goode. Ye Earthe was made for ye Panugaga, & ye souls of our warriors help us against our Ennemy. Ye ffrench dogg is Mahongui's spirit. He tells us to goe to warre against ye ffrench. Would a ffrench dogg doe that? You are nott yett Panugaga to follow your father in warre.”