s in one evening, and oblige them thereby to return home, so
that he might be sure of the number of those animals he had seen
dispersed during the day, having a particular foresight of the spot to
which they would come to load their tails with earth, cut down with
their teeth such and such trees for the construction of their huts. He
had a particular gift of knowing the favorite places of those animals
for building them. But now let us rather speak of your great
grand-father, who was so expert at making of snares for moose-deer,
martins, and elks. He had particular secrets, absolutely unknown to any
but himself, to compel these sort of creatures to run sooner into his
snares than those of others; and he was accordingly always so well
provided with furs, that he was never at a loss to oblige his friends.
Now let us come to your grand-father, who has a thousand and a thousand
times regaled the youth of his time with seals. How often in our young
days have we greased our hair in his cabbin? How often have we been
invited, and even compelled by his friendly violence, to go home with
him, whenever we returned with our canoes empty, to be treated with
seal, to drink the oil, and anoint ourselves with it? He even pushed his
generosity so far, as to give us of the oil to take home with us. But
now we are come to your father: there was a man for you! He used to
signalize himself in every branch of chace; but especially in the art of
shooting the game whether flying or sitting. He never missed his aim. He
was particularly admirable for decoying of bustards by his artificial
imitations. We are all of us tolerably expert at counterfeiting the cry
of those birds; but as to him, he surpassed us in certain inflexions, of
his voice, that made it impossible to distinguish his cry from that of
the birds themselves. He had, besides, a particular way of motion with
his body, that at a distance might be taken for the clapping of their
wings, insomuch that he has often deceived ourselves, and put us to
confusion, as he started out of his hiding-place.

"As for thyself, I say nothing, I am too full of the good things thou
hast feasted me with, to treat on that subject; but I thank thee, and
take thee by the hand, leaving to my fellow-guests the care of
acquitting themselves of that duty."

After this, he sits down, and some other younger, and in course of less
note, for they pay great respect to age, gets up, and makes a summary
recapitulati