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We shall have more to say about Gyles and his narrative further on, but it may be observed in passing that we are greatly indebted to him for the knowledge we possess of the life of the Indians of the River St. John two centuries ago.
Gaston Carew's face was in his hands, and his shoulders shook convulsively. "I'll leave thee go, lad, ma foi, I'll leave thee go. But, nay, I dare not leave thee go!" Some one came and tapped him on the shoulder. It was the sub-precentor. "Master Gyles would speak with thee, sir," said he, in a low tone, as if half afraid of the sound of his own voice in the quiet that was in the hall.
When they reached the rapids they landed, and we shall let Gyles tell in his own words the story of the last stage of his journey and of his reception at Medoctec. He says: "We carried over a long carrying place to Medoctock Fort, which stands on a bank of St. John's river. My Indian master went before and left me with an old Indian and three squaws.
The wife of the Sieur de Chauffours, Marguerite Guyon , appears in an especially amiable light. Her lonely situation and rude surroundings, the perils of the wilderness and of savage war, amidst which her little children were born, evoke our sympathy. Her goodness of heart is seen in her motherly kindness to Gyles, the young stranger of an alien race the "little English," as she calls him.
Gyles asked some of the prisoners, who had lately been taken by privateers and brought to the Jemseg, whether they would go back with him to witness the ceremony, but they emphatically refused to witness it and when Gyles expressed his determination to go, one of them, named Woodbury, said he was "as bad as a papist and a d d fool."
John, two of the party very nearly died in consequence of eating too heartily, but Gyles had had such ample experience of fasting in his Indian life that he had learned wisdom, and by careful dieting suffered no evil consequences.
Our knowledge of the village Medoctec, and the ways of its people two centuries ago, is derived mainly from the narrative of John Gyles, the English lad who was captured at Pemaquid in 1689 and brought by his Indian master to the River St. John. At the time of his capture Gyles was a boy of about twelve years of age.
"I'd like to see you do that same agin Mr. . It wouldn't be savin' yerself a pace-warrant, and another for assault and battery! Sure magistrate Gyles is a first-rate friend of me own, and he'd not suffer me imposed on. The d d nigger was obstinate and wouldn't go to jail," said Dunn in a cowardly, whimpering manner.
Yet another method is thus described by the English captive, John Gyles, who lived as a captive with the St. John river Indians in 1689: "To dry the corn when in the milk, they gather it in large kettles and boil it on the ears till it is pretty hard, then shell it from the cob with clam shells and dry it on bark in the sun.
I out and bought several things, among others, a dozen of silver salts; home, and to the office, where some of us met a little, and then home, and at noon comes my company, namely, Anthony and Will Joyce and their wives, my aunt James newly come out of Wales, and my cozen Sarah Gyles.
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