out. The others then asked us all to go up to the church with them. We
consequently went, Mr. and Mrs. Gowanlock, Mr. Dill, Mr. Williscraft,
my husband and myself.

When we arrived at the church the mass was nearly over. The Indians,
on entering, made quite a noise, and clatter. They would' not remove
their hats or head-dresses, they Would not shut the door, nor remain
silent, in fact, they did anything they considered provoking and ugly.
The good priest, the ill-fated Father Fafard, turned upon the altar,
and addressed them. He warned them of the danger of excitement and he
also forbade them to do any harm. He told them to go quietly away to
their camps and not disturb the happiness and peace of the community.
They seemed to pay but little attention to what they heard, but
continued the same tumult. Then Father Fafard took off his vestments
and cut short the mass, the last that he was destined ever to say upon
earth; the next sacrifice he would offer was to be his own life. He as
little dreamed as did some of the others that before many hours their
souls would be with God, and that their bodies would find a few days
sepulchre beneath that same church, whose burnt ruins would soon fall
upon their union in the clay.

The Indians told us that we must all go back to our place. We obeyed
and the priests came also. When we reached the house the Indians asked
for beef-cattle. My husband gave them two oxen. Some of the tribe went
out to kill the cattle. After about an hour's delay and talk, the
Indians told us to come to their camp so that we would all be together
and that they could aid us the better against the half-breeds. We
consequently started with them.

Up to this point, I might say, the Indians showed us no ill-will, but