[He] Presently Answers That I Was A Iroquoite As Himselfe.

Lett me revenge, said I, my kindred.

I love my brother. Lett me die with him. I would die with you, but you will not because you goe against the ffrench. Lett me a gaine goe with my brother, the prisoners & the heads that I shall bring, to the joy of my mother and sisters, will make me undertake att my retourne to take up the hattchett against those of Quebecq, of the 3 rivers, and Monteroyall in declaring them my name, and that it's I that kills them, and by that you shall know I am your son, worthy to beare that title that you gave me when you adopted me. He sett [up] a great crye, saying, have great courage, son Oninga, thy brother died in the warrs not in the Cabban; he was of a courage not of a woman. I goe to aveng his death. If I die, aveng you mine. That one word was my leave, which made me hope that one day I might escape, having soe great an opportunity; or att least I should have the happinesse to see their country, which I heard so much recommended by the Iroquoites, who brought wondrous stories and the facilitie of killing so many men.

Thus the winter was past in thoughts and preparing for to depart before the melting of the snow, which is very soone in that Country. I began to sett my witts together how I should resolve this my voyage; for my mother opposed against it mightily, saying I should bee lost in the woods, and that I should gett it [put] off till the next yeare.

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