heir evil
in ye dark.

[Illustration: 20 YE SPIRIT DOG STRODE FROM YE DARKNESS]

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