The Mission Indians were better allies than these heathen of the west; and their priests, who followed them to the war, had great influence over them.  They were armed with guns, which they well knew how to use.  Their dress, though savage, was generally decent, and they were not cannibals; though in other respects they retained all their traditional ferocity and most of their traditional habits.  They held frequent war-feasts, one of which is described by Roubaud, Jesuit missionary of the Abenakis of St. Francis, whose flock formed a part of the company present.

“Imagine,” says the father, “a great assembly of savages adorned with every ornament most suited to disfigure them in European eyes, painted with vermilion, white, green, yellow, and black made of soot and the scrapings of pots.  A single savage face combines all these different colors, methodically laid on with the help of a little tallow, which serves for pomatum.  The head is shaved except at the top, where there is a small tuft, to which are fastened feathers, a few beads of wampum, or some such trinket.  Every part of the head has its ornament.  Pendants hang from the nose and also from the ears, which are split in infancy and drawn down by weights till they flap at last against the shoulders.  The rest of the equipment answers to this fantastic decoration:  a shirt bedaubed with vermilion, wampum collars, silver bracelets, a large knife hanging on the breast, moose-skin moccasons, and a belt of various colors always absurdly combined.  The sachems and war-chiefs are distinguished from the rest:  the latter by a gorget, and the former by a medal, with the King’s portrait on one side, and on the other Mars and Bellona joining hands, with the device, Virtues et Honor.”

Thus attired, the company sat in two lines facing each other, with kettles in the middle filled with meat chopped for distribution.  To a dignified silence succeeded songs, sung by several chiefs in succession, and compared by the narrator to the howling of wolves.  Then followed a speech from the chief orator, highly commended by Roubaud, who could not help admiring this effort of savage eloquence.  “After the harangue,” he continues, “they proceeded to nominate the chiefs who were to take command.  As soon as one was named he rose and took the head of some animal that had been butchered for the feast.  He raised it aloft so that all the company could see it, and cried:  ‘Behold the head of the enemy!’ Applause and cries of joy rose from all parts of the assembly.  The chief, with the head in his hand, passed down between the lines, singing his war-song, bragging of his exploits, taunting and defying the enemy, and glorifying himself beyond all measure.  To hear his self-laudation in these moments of martial transport one would think him a conquering hero ready to sweep everything before him.  As he passed in front of the other savages, they would respond by dull broken cries jerked up from