The Dutch governor Peter Minnewit sits in front of Sagisgura, sachem of the tribe of the Lenate, surrounded by his warriors. The old Indian did not say a word. It remains a long time silent as his moccasin. One of his men finished off by her tender a long pipe that he wears majestically at the mouth. It aspires to hold the smoke that it releases small puffs. Then he passes the pipe to the outside a voluntary gesture to make him understand that he cannot shirk. The governor of the little Dutch colony runs, even if the smoke burns his lungs. C...

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