By the noyse we made, the Beasts heard us a great way off; so the famine was among great many that had not provided before hand, and live upon what they gett that day, never thinking for the next. It grows wors and wors dayly. To augment our misery we receive news of the Octanaks, who weare about a hundred and fifty, with their families. They had a quarell with the hurrons in the Ile where we had come from some years before in the lake of the staring hairs, and came purposely to make warres against them the next summer. But lett us see if they brought us anything to subsist withall. But are worst provided then we; having no huntsmen, they are reduced to famine. But, O cursed covetousnesse, what art thou going to doe? It should be farr better to see a company of Rogues perish then see ourselves in danger to perish by that scourg so cruell. Hearing that they have had knives and hattchetts, the victualls of their poore children is taken away from them; yea, what ever they have, those doggs must have their share. They are the coursedest, unablest, the unfamous & cowardliest people that I have seene amongst fower score nations that I have frequented. O yee poore people, you shall have their booty, but you shall pay dearly for it! Every one cryes out for hungar; the women become baren, and drie like wood. You men must eate the cord, being you have no more strength to make use of the bow. Children, you must die. ffrench, you called yourselves Gods of the earth, that you should be feared, for your interest; notwithstanding you shall tast of the bitternesse, and too happy if you escape. Where is the time past? Where is the plentynesse that yee had in all places and countreys? Here comes a new family of these poore people dayly to us, halfe dead, for they have but the skin & boans. How shall we have strength to make a hole in the snow to lay us downe, seeing we have it not to hale our racketts after us, nor to cutt a litle woad to make a fire to keepe us from the rigour of the cold, which is extreame in those Countreyes in its season. Oh! if the musick that we heare could give us recreation, we wanted not any lamentable musick nor sad spectacle. In the morning the husband looks uppon his wife, the Brother his sister, the cozen the cozen, the Oncle the nevew, that weare for the most part found deade. They languish with cryes & hideous noise that it was able to make the haire starre on the heads that have any apprehension. Good God, have mercy on so many poore innocent people, and of us that acknowledge thee, that having offended thee punishes us. But wee are not free of that cruell Executioner. Those that have any life seeketh out for roots, which could not be done without great difficultie, the earth being frozen 2 or 3 foote deepe, and the snow 5 or 6 above it. The greatest subsistance that we can have is of rind tree which growes like ivie about the trees; but to swallow it, we cutt the stick some 2 foot long, tying it in faggott, and boyle it, and when it boyles one houre or two the rind or skinne comes off with ease, which we take and drie it in the smoake and then reduce it into powder betwixt two graine-stoans, and putting the kettle with the same watter uppon the fire, we make it a kind of broath, which nourished us, but becam thirstier and drier then the woode we eate. The 2 first weeke we did eate our doggs. As we went backe uppon our stepps for to gett any thing to fill our bellyes, we weare glad to gett the boans and carcasses of the beasts that we killed. And happy was he that could gett what the other did throw away after it had ben boyled 3 or foure times to gett the substance out of it. We contrived an other plott, to reduce to powder those boanes, the rest of crows and doggs. So putt all that together halfe foot within grounde, and so makes a fire uppon it. We covered all that very well with earth, soe feeling the heat, and boyled them againe and gave more froth then before; in the next place, the skins that weare reserved to make us shooe, cloath, and stokins, yea, most of the skins of our cottages, the castors' skins, where the children beshit them above a hundred times. We burned the haire on the coals; the rest goes downe throats, eating heartily these things most abhorred. We went so eagerly to it that our gumms did bleede like one newly wounded. The wood was our food the rest of sorrowfull time. Finaly we became the very Image of death. We mistook ourselves very often, taking the living for the dead and the dead for the living. We wanted strength to draw the living out of the cabans, or if we did when we could, it was to putt them four paces in the snow. Att the end the wrath of God begins to appease itselfe, and pityes his poore creatures. If I should expresse all that befell us in that strange accidents, a great volume would not containe it. Here are above 500 dead, men, women, and children. It 's time to come out of such miseryes. Our bodyes are not able to hold out any further. We began to looke better dayly.

By the noise we made, the beasts heard us a great way off. So famine came among the many who had not provided beforehand and lived on what they got that day, never thinking of the next. It grew worse and worse every day. To add to our misery, we received news of the Octanaks, who were about a hundred and fifty, with their families. They had quarreled with the Hurons on the island we had come from some years before, in the lake of the staring hairs, and had come on purpose to make war against them the next summer. But let us see if they brought us anything to live on. No: they were worse provided than we were. Having no hunters, they were reduced to famine. But, O cursed greed, what are you going to do? It would be far better to see a band of rogues perish than to see ourselves in danger of perishing by that cruel scourge. Hearing that they had knives and hatchets, [others] took the food of their poor children away from them. Yes, whatever they have, those dogs must have their share. They are the most cursed, the most useless, the most infamous and cowardly people that I have seen among the eighty nations that I have dealt with. O you poor people, you shall have their booty, but you shall pay dearly for it! Everyone cries out with hunger. The women become barren and dry as wood. You men must eat your bowstrings, since you no longer have the strength to use the bow. Children, you must die. Frenchmen, you called yourselves gods of the earth, so that you would be feared, for your own profit. Yet you shall taste the bitterness, and be only too happy if you escape. Where is the time past? Where is the plenty you had in all places and countries? Every day a new family of these poor people came to us, half dead, for they were nothing but skin and bones. How could we have the strength to make a hole in the snow to lie down in? We did not have the strength to drag our snowshoes after us, or to cut a little wood to make a fire to keep us from the bitter cold, which is extreme in those countries in its season. Oh! If the music we heard could have given us comfort, we did not lack mournful music, or sad sights. In the morning the husband looked at his wife, the brother at his sister, the cousin at the cousin, the uncle at the nephew, and for the most part they were found dead. They wasted away with cries and hideous noise, enough to make the hair stand on end on anyone with feeling. Good God, have mercy on so many poor innocent people, and on us who acknowledge you, who have offended you and whom you punish. But we were not free of that cruel executioner. Those who had any life left looked for roots, which could not be done without great difficulty, since the earth was frozen two or three feet deep, with five or six feet of snow above it. The most food we could get was from a vine bark that grows like ivy around the trees. To swallow it, we cut the stems about two feet long, tied them in bundles, and boiled them. When they had boiled an hour or two, the bark or skin came off easily. We took it, dried it in the smoke, and then ground it into powder between two grinding stones. Then we put the kettle with the same water back on the fire and made a kind of broth of it. It nourished us, but we became thirstier and drier than the wood we ate. The first two weeks we ate our dogs. As we went back over our tracks to find anything to fill our bellies, we were glad to get the bones and carcasses of the beasts we had killed. And happy was he who could get what another threw away after it had been boiled three or four times to get the goodness out of it. We came up with another plan: to grind to powder those bones, and what was left of crows and dogs. We put it all together half a foot underground and made a fire on top. We covered it all well with earth, so that it felt the heat, and then boiled it again, and it gave more froth than before. Next we ate the skins that had been saved to make our shoes, clothes, and stockings, and even most of the skins of our lodges, the beaver skins, which the children had soiled more than a hundred times. We burned the hair off on the coals; the rest went down our throats, and we ate heartily these most loathsome things. We went at it so eagerly that our gums bled like someone newly wounded. Wood was our food for the rest of that sorrowful time. Finally we became the very image of death. We very often made mistakes, taking the living for the dead and the dead for the living. We lacked the strength to drag the dead out of the lodges, or if we did when we could, it was only to put them four paces away in the snow. At the end the wrath of God began to ease, and he took pity on his poor creatures. If I were to tell all that happened to us in that strange disaster, a great volume would not hold it. More than 500 died here, men, women, and children. It was time to come out of such miseries. Our bodies could not hold out any longer. We began to look better every day.