The savages exercised their cruelty upon them for several days and nights. When Jogues ran the gauntlet he consoled himself with a vision of the glory of the Queen of Heaven. One evening, after a day of torture an ear of Indian corn was thrown to the good father, and see! upon the broad leaf there were drops of water, or of dew, sufficient to baptise two captive Christian converts!
Ahasistari and two of his people were burned. He met death with the pride of an Indian and the calmness of a Christian.
Father Jogues had expected the same fate; but his life was spared and his liberty granted to him. Roaming through the magnificent forests of the Mohawk Valley he wrote the name of Jesus on the bark of trees, graved the cross and took possession of these countries in the name of God. Often lifting up his voice in thanksgiving, consoling himself in his sorrow with the thought that he alone in that vast region, adored the true God, the God of Heaven and of Earth.
He returned safely to his own people in Canada; but merely, two years afterwards, to set out once more to seek new perils in the same service. “I shall go, but shall never return,” said he, on setting out; and soon afterwards was taken prisoner by the Mohawks, who said that he, by his enchantments, had blighted their harvest. Timid by nature, yet courageous through his zeal, he received his death-blow with calmness.
Bribeuf, Anthony, Daniel, and the mild Lallemand, all suffered martyrdom amid such torments as only Indians can devise; suffered it with that pious courage which only the love of Christ can inspire.
The villages and settlements founded by the good fathers were burned, and the Christian converts perished by fire and sword. All the many years labour of the Jesuits was destroyed and the Wilderness seemed once more to grow over their traces.
