The broad river raced not to meet the sea more swiftly than our pulses
leaped at sight of that unclaimed world. 'Twas a kingdom waiting for
its king. And its king had come! Flush with triumph, sniffing the
nutty, autumn air like a war-horse keen for battle, stood M. Radisson
all impatience for the conquest of new realms. His jewelled sword-hilt
glistened in the sun. The fire that always slumbered in the deep-set
eyes flashed to life; and, fetching a deep breath, he said a queer
thing to Jean and me.

"'Tis good air, lads," says he; "'tis free!"

And I, who minded that bloody war in which my father lost his all, knew
what the words meant, and drank deep.

But for the screaming of the birds there was silence of death. And,
indeed, it was death we had come to disenthrone. M. Radisson issued
orders quick on top of one another, and the sailors swarmed from the
hold like bees from a hive. The drum beat a roundelay that set our
blood hopping. There were trumpet-calls back and forth from our ship
to the Ste. Anne. Then, to a whacking of cables through blocks, the
gig-boats touched water, and all hands were racing for the shore.
Godefroy waved a monster flag--lilies of France, gold-wrought on cloth
of silk--and Allemand kept beating--and beating--and beating the drum,
rumbling out a "Vive le Roi!" to every stroke. Before the keel
gravelled on the beach, M. Radisson's foot was on the gunwale, and he
leaped ashore. Godefroy followed, flourishing the French flag and
yelling at the top of his voice for the King of France. Behind, wading
and floundering through the water, came the rest. Godefroy planted the
flag-staff. The two crews sent up a shout that startled those strange,