Other
chiefs arose and declaimed to their hearers that earth did not contain
such hosts as the French. Before they had finished speaking there came
a second and a third and a fourth relay of kettles round the circle of
feasters. Not one Iroquois dared to refuse the food heaped before him.
By the time the kettles of salted fowl and venison and bear had passed
round the circle, each Indian was glancing furtively sideways to see if
his neighbor could still eat. He who was compelled to forsake the
feast first was to become the butt of the company. All the while the
French kept up a din of drums and trumpets and flageolets, dancing and
singing and shouting to drive off sleep. The eyes of the gorging
Indians began to roll. Never had they attempted to demolish such a
banquet. Some shook their heads and drew back. Others fell over in
the dead sleep that results from long fasting and overfeeding and fresh
air. Radisson was everywhere, urging the Iroquois to "Cheer up! cheer
up! If sleep overcomes you, you must awake! Beat the drum! Blow the
trumpet! Cheer up! Cheer up!"
But the end of the repulsive scene was at hand. By midnight the
Indians had--in the language of the white man--"gone under the
mahogany." They lay sprawled on the ground in sodden sleep. Perhaps,
too, something had been dropped in the fleshpots to make their sleep
the sounder. Radisson does not say no, neither does the priest, and
they two were the only whites present who have written of the
episode.
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