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Father Jérôme Lalemant says that the Indians called the place Sadilege. This volume is entitled Des Sauvages ou Voyage de Samuel Champlain de Brouage, fait en la Nouvelle France, l'an mil six cent trois ... A Paris ... 1604. Extremely rare. The original of the first edition is kept at the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris; this is the only copy known.
"'Tis as good a place as any if one would leave all behind, and if he would forget." "And this that is to say madam?" Sir Arthur stumbled in his speech. John Law looked him straight in the eye, a slow, sad smile upon his face. "Had we here the plank of poor La Salle his ship," said he, "we might nail the message of that other renegade above our door 'Nous sommes tous sauvages!"
"Ou des sauvages," returned the governess, who, in spite of her ordinary intelligence and great good sense, had several times that day cast uneasy and stolen glances into the bits of dark wood they had occasionally passed.
In a journey which Anet had made to Montpelier, to see the physical garden there, and visit Monsieur Sauvages, the demonstrator, he had been informed that Monsieur Fizes had cured a polypus similar to that I fancied myself afflicted with: Madam de Warrens, recollecting this circumstance, mentioned it to me, and nothing more was necessary to inspire me with a desire to consult Monsieur Fizes.
There is room for us all." "Forests!" exclaimed the cook, with a frown and a shrug of his shoulders, "non, dey not hurt moche timber, but dey vill trade vid de Injins de sauvages an' give dem drink, an' git all de furs, an' fat den vill come of dat?" Without waiting for a reply the indignant cook went in quest of hot water, leaving the traders to discuss the salt goose and the news.
Charlevoix says: "Il a ete forme du terme Hiro, ou Hero, qui signifie J'ai dit, et par lequel ces sauvages finissent tous leur discours, comme les Latins faisoient autrefois par leur Dixi; et de Koue, qui est un cri tantot de tristesse, lorsqu'on le prononce en trainant, et tantot de joye, quand on le prononce plus court." Hist. de la N. F., I. 271.
"Sing us 'Avec les Braves Sauvages, Pierre," said Jo Gordineer. But Pierre waved his fingers towards Shon: "Shon, his song he did not finish on the glacier. It is good we hear all. 'Hein?" And so Shon sang: "Oh it's down the long side of Farcalladen Rise." The sleeper on the pine branches stirred nervously, as if the song were coming through a dream to him.
Apprenez, chiens de Francois, a souffrir, et vous sauvages leurs allies, qui etes les chiens des chiens, souvenez vous de ce que vous devez faire quand vous serez en pareil etat que moi." Hist. N. Y., I. 323-355; La Potherie, III. 270-282; N. Y. Col. Docs., IV. 242.
"Sing us 'Avec les Braves Sauvages, Pierre," said Jo Gordineer. But Pierre waved his fingers towards Shon: "Shon, his song he did not finish on the glacier. It is good we hear all. 'Hein?" And so Shon sang: "Oh it's down the long side of Farcalladen Rise." The sleeper on the pine branches stirred nervously, as if the song were coming through a dream to him.
So much for the men, and far too much, if you ask me, when you think that we still have the adorable women to speak of. Ever since our first nocturnal glimpse of the charming creatures you can imagine that my companions and I were most eager to see more of them. During the entire next day not one of "les belles sauvages" was visible.
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