lets of shells, and a variety of coloured feathers mingled with his bright curls; ome of these fell over his face, and doubtless prevented him from seeing us. The chief seemed much engaged with him, and continually took some ornament from his own dress to decorate him. "It is my child!" said I, in great terror, to Mr. Willis, "my dearest and youngest! They have taken him from his mother. What must be her grief! He is her Benjamin—the child of her love. Why have they taken him? Why have they adorned him in this manner? Why have they brought him here?"
"Have no fear," said the missionary; "they will do him no harm. I promise you they shall restore him, and you shall take him back to his mother. Place yourselves at my side, with these branches in your hands."
He took some from Parabéry, who held a bundle of them, and gave us each one; each of the savages took one also. They were from a tree which had slender, elegant leaves, and rich scarlet flowers—a species of mimosa; the Indians call it the tree of peace. They carry a branch of it when they have no hostile intentions; in all their assemblies, when war is proclaimed, they make a fire of these branches, and if all are consumed, it is considered an omen of victory.
While Mr. Willis was explaining this to us, the canoe approached. Two savages took Francis on their shoulders, two others took the king in the same way, and advanced gravely towards us. What difficulty I had to restrain myself from snatching my child from his bearers, and embracing him! My sons were equally agitated; Fritz was darting forward, but the missionary restrained
