There is a French clergyman and a church for the Indians, who are all Catholics. At this village I remained a fortnight, during which {156} time the American privateers were continually cruizing about. One morning there was a great fog, but we could just discern at a small distance a vessel: this alarmed the priest and the Indians. My brother Englishman (the trader who was settled here) joined with me in soliciting the Indians to stand their ground, which the priest strongly opposed, though paid by the British government. This incensed me, and I insisted on taking some of his flock with me to reconnoitre, and endeavour to discover what vessel she was, though I had strong suspicions she was an American privateer. We went towards the shore, but could not discover the number of guns she mounted; we returned to our camp, and all the Indians at my request accompanied me to attack her. We embarked in canoes, dressed alike, and as we approached perceived she lay at anchor, and was a vessel of inconsiderable force, mounting only eight small swivels. I immediately went on one side of her, and directed the Indians to the other, to inclose her as much as we could. Having reached the vessel, I took hold of a rope and went on board; the captain was alarmed, and his fears were increased when he saw himself surrounded with canoes, filled with Savages armed with guns and tomahawks; however, he advanced towards me, and clapping me on the shoulder, asked what I wanted? I was too politic to make any reply at that time. He then asked me, if I would have some biscuit? I replied, caween, or no. He shook his head, as much as to say, I
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tact with the French colonists. They still roam through their ancient territory, hunting and fishing, and acting as guides to scientific and sporting parties. They have a reservation on Lake St. John.—Ed.
