them, dancing and waving their weapons in their joy, and when they
recognized Laudonniere standing in the stern of the leading boat, they
raised a great cry of welcome that caused the forest to ring with its
echoes. As the pious leader of the expedition stepped on shore, he took
Réné by the hand, and both kneeling on the sands, gave thanks to Him who
guided them thus far in safety in their perilous wanderings. Though the
simple-minded Indians could not understand what Laudonniere said or was
doing, they were so anxious to show their respect and love for him that
all knelt when he did and maintained a deep silence while he prayed.

When Laudonniere arose to his feet the Indians crowded about him with
shouts and gestures of welcome; but they readily made way for him when,
still holding Réné's hand, he began to walk towards the lodge of their
chief. He was as anxious as his followers to welcome the white men, but
his dignity had not permitted him to rush with them down to the beach.

As they walked, Réné stared in astonishment at the waving palms with
richly plumaged birds flitting among their leaves, the palmetto-thatched
huts of the Indians, the shining and inflated fish-bladders that the men
wore suspended from their ears, the moss-woven kirtles of the women, and
above all, at the mighty antlered stag that, stuffed and mounted on a
tall pole, with head proudly turned towards the rising sun, rose from the
middle of the village.

He in turn was an object of astonishment and curious interest to the
natives; for, although they had become familiar with the appearance of
bearded white men, they had never before seen a white boy, Réné being the
first to set foot in this land. The Indians had thought that all white
men were born with beards, and that their closely cropped hair never grew
any longer; so that this smooth-faced boy, whose golden hair hung in