the surrounding spirits; while outside, squatted on the
ground, the dusky auditors looked and listened with awe.
Suddenly the lodge began to rock violently, by the power of
the spirits, as the Indians deemed, though Champlain fancied
that the arm of the medicine-man was the only spirit at
work.

"Look on the peak of the lodge," whispered the awed savages.
"You will see fire and smoke rise into the air." Champlain
looked, but saw nothing.

The medicine-man by this time had worked himself into
convulsions. He called loudly upon the spirit in an unknown
language, and was answered in squeaking tones like those of
a young puppy. This powerful spirit was deemed to be present
in the form of a stone. When the conjurer reappeared his
body streamed with perspiration, while the story he had to
tell promised an auspicious termination of the enterprise.

This was not the only performance of the warriors. There was
another of a more rational character. Bundles of sticks were
collected by the leading chief, which he stuck in the earth
in a fixed order, calling each by the name of some warrior,
the taller ones representing the chiefs. The arrangement of
the sticks indicated the plan of battle. Each warrior was to
occupy the position indicated by his special stick. The
savages gathered closely round, intently studied the plan,
then formed their ranks in accordance therewith, broke them,
reformed them, and continued the process with a skill and
alacrity that surprised and pleased their civilized