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THE CAPTIVITY OF HANS STADE


understood him not. The savages stood round about us and listened. Now when I could not answer him, he said to the savages in their language, "Kill and eat him, the villain, he is a true Portuguese, my enemy and yours." And this I understood well. I begged him therefore for God's sake, that he would tell them not to cat me. Then he said: "They want to eat you," upon which I remembered the words of Jeremiah (cap. xvii.) who says: "Cursed is he who putteth his trust in man." And herewith I again went away from them very sorrowful at heart; and I had at the time a piece of linen tied around my shoulders (where could they have obtained it?) This I tore off and threw it before the Frenchman's feet, and the sun had scorched me severely, and I said to myself, "If I am to die, why should I preserve my flesh for another?" Then they conducted me back to the huts where they confined me. I then went to lie down in my hammock. God knows the misery I endured, and thus I tearfully began to sing the hymn,

Now beg we of the Holy Ghost
The true belief we wish for most.
That He may save us at our end
When from this vale of tears we wend.[1]

Then they said: "He is a true Portuguose, now he howls,[2] he dreads death."

  1. Sanctam precemur Spiritum
    Vera beare nos fide,
    Ut nos in hac reservet,
    In fine nempe vita
    Hinc quando commigramus
    Doloribus soluti.
    Kyrie eleison!

  2. The savage is ever

    Trained from his tree-locked cradle to his bier,
    The fierce extremes of good and ill to brook,
    Impassive fearing but the stain of fear—
    A stoic of the woods—a man without a tear.
    (Gertrude of Wyoming.)

    Chapt. xli is not very complimentary to Tupi bravery, yet the southern