hundred or two of them, and make a feast upon
me, at which he might be as merry as he used to be with those of his
enemies, when they were taken in war. But I wronged the poor honest
creature very much, for which I was very sorry afterwards. However, as
my jealousy increased, and held me some weeks, I was a little more
circumspect, and not so familiar and kind to him as before: in which I
was certainly in the wrong too; the honest, grateful creature, having no
thought about it, but what consisted with the best principles, both as a
religious Christian, and as a grateful friend; as appeared afterwards,
to my full satisfaction.

While my jealousy of him lasted, you may be sure I was every day pumping
him, to see if he would discover any of the new thoughts which I
suspected were in him: but I found every thing he said was so honest and
so innocent, that I could find nothing to nourish my suspicion; and, in
spite of all my uneasiness, he made me at last entirely his own again;
nor did he, in the least, perceive that I was uneasy, and therefore I
could not suspect him of deceit.

One day, walking up the same hill, but the weather being hazy at sea, so
that we could not see the continent, I called to him, and said, "Friday,
do not you wish yourself in your own country, your own nation?"--"Yes,"
he said, "I be much O glad to be at my own nation." "What would you do
there?" said I: "would you turn wild again, eat men's flesh again, and
be a savage as you were before?" He looked full of concern, and shaking
his head, said, "No, no, Friday tell them to live good; tell them to
pray God; tell them to eat corn-bread, cattle-flesh, milk; no eat man
again."--"Why then," said I to him, "they will kill you." He looked
grave at that, and then said, "No, no; they no kill me, they willing
love learn." He meant by this, they would be willing to learn. He added,
they learned much of the bearded mans that came in the boat. Then I
asked him if he would go back to them. He smiled at that, and told me
that he could not swim so far. I told him, I would make a canoe for him.
He told me he would go, if I would go with him. "I go!" says I, "why,
they will eat me if I come there."--"No, no," says he, "me make they no
eat you; me make they much love you," He meant, he would tell them how I
had killed his enemies, and saved his life, and so he would make them
love me. Then he told me, as well as he could, how kind they were to
seventeen white men, or