His wife fell sick; as soon as he saw her at the point of death he fled, embarked in a piragua on the Mississippi, and came to New Orleans.  He put himself under the protection of M. de Bienville, the then governor, and offered to be his huntsman.  The governor accepted his services, and interested himself for him with the Natchez, who declared that he had nothing more to fear, because the ceremony was past, and he was accordingly no longer a lawful prize.

Elteacteal, being thus assured, ventured to return to his nation, and, without settling among them, he made several voyages thither.  He happened to be there when the Sun called the Stung Serpent, brother to the Great Sun, died.  He was a relative of the late wife of Elteacteal, and they resolved to make him pay his debt.  M. de Bienville had been recalled to France, and the sovereign of the Natchez thought that the protector’s absence had annulled the reprieve granted to the protected person, and accordingly he caused him to be arrested.  As soon as the poor fellow found himself in the hut of the grand chief of war, together with the other victims destined to be sacrificed to the Stung Serpent, he gave vent to the excess of his grief.  The favorite wife of the late Son, who was likewise to be sacrificed, and who saw the preparations for her death with firmness, and seemed impatient to rejoin her husband, hearing Elteacteal’s complaints and groans, said to him:  “Art thou no warrior?” He answered, “Yes:  I am one.”  “However,” said she, “thou cryest; life is dear to thee, and as that is the case, it is not good that thou shouldst go along with us; go with the women.” Elteacteal replied:  “True; life is dear to me.  It would be well if I walked yet on earth till to the death of the Great Sun, and I would die with him.”  “Go thy way,” said the favorite, “it is not fit thou shouldst go with us, and that thy heart should remain behind on earth.  Once more, get away, and let me see thee no more.”

Elteacteal did not stay to hear this order repeated to him; he disappeared like lightning; three old women, two of which were his relatives, offered to pay his debt; their age and their infirmities had disgusted them of life; none of them had been able to use their legs for a great while.  The hair of the two that were related to Elteacteal was no more gray than those of women of fifty-five years in France. the other old woman was a hundred and twenty years old, and had very white hair, which is a very uncommon thing among the Indians.  None of the three had a quite wrinkled skin.  They were dispatched in the evening, one at the door of the Stung Serpent, and the other two upon the place before the temple. * * * A cord is fastened round their necks with a slip-knot, and eight men of their relations strangle them by drawing, four one way and four the other.  So many are not necessary, but as they acquire