LOSS OF AN ENGLISH SLOOP. 137 
it was. He threw it down with a look of disdain, and took 
that which was by his side. In a moment he had cut a great 
quantity of branches, which he threw upon our fire ; he then 
took up his musket, and without saying a word, went away 
with his companion. 
• Such a sudden retreat might have given uneasiness to per- 
sons unacquainted with the humor of the Indians ; but I knew 
that these people seldom speak but when they see an abso- 
lute necessity for it. I did not, therefore, doubt but that they 
were gone to fetch us provisions, and assured my alarmed 
comrades that we should not be long before we saw them 
again. Notwithstanding the distress in which we were for 
food, hunger was not, at least with me, the most pressing 
want. The good fire which the savages had made crowned, 
at that moment, all my desires, having passed so many days 
of suffering from intense cold, near the feeble flame of our 
miserable fire. 
Three hours had elapsed since the departure of the Indians, 
and my afflicted companions began to lose all hope of seeing 
them again, when we perceived them turning a projecting 
point of land, and rowing toward us in a canoe of bark. They 
soon came on shore, bringing a large piece of smoked veni- 
son, and a bladder filled with fish oil. They boiled the meat 
in our iron pot with snow water, and when it was dressed 
they took care to distribute it amongst us in very small quan- 
tities, with a little oil, to prevent the dangerous consequences 
which might have resulted from our voracity in the debili- 
tated state to which our stomachs were reduced. 
This light repast being over, they made me embark with 
two of my companions in their canoe, which was too small to 
take us all at once. We were received upon landing by three 
Indians and a dozen women or children, who were waiting 
for us on the shore. While those in the canoe returned to 
fetch the rest of our company, the others led us toward their 
huts or wigwams, three in number, constructed for the same 
number of families, at the entrance of the forest. We were 
treated by these good people Avith the kindest hospitality; 
they made us swallow a kind of broth, but would not permit 
us, notwithstanding our entreaties, to eat meat, or take any 
other too substantial nourishment. 
I felt the sincerest joy when the canoe returned with our 
three companions. Upon finding ourselves together among 
these savages, after only such a short separation, we felt the 
sensations that, are experienced by friends from infancy, who, 
12* 
