the Richelieu River for the country of the Iroquois, hope died in the
captive Hurons and there mingled with the chant of the Mohawks'
war-songs, the low monotonous dirge of the prisoners:--

"If I die, I die valiant!
I go without fear
To that land where brave men
Have gone long before me--
If I die, I die valiant."

Twelve miles up the Richelieu, the Iroquois landed to camp. The
prisoners were pegged out on the sand, elbows trussed to knees, each
captive tied to a post. In this fashion they lay every night of
encampment, tortured by sand-flies that they were powerless to drive
off. At the entrance to the Mohawk village, a yoke was fastened to the
captives' necks by placing pairs of saplings one on each side down the
line of prisoners. By the rope round the waist of the foremost
prisoner, they were led slowly between the lines of tormentors. The
captives were ordered to sing. If one refused or showed fear, a Mohawk
struck off a finger with a hatchet, or tore the prisoners' nails out,
or thrust red-hot irons into the muscles of the bound arms.[10] As
Radisson appeared, he was recognized with shouts of rage by the friends
of the murdered Mohawks. Men, women, and children armed with rods and
skull-crackers--leather bags loaded with stones--rushed on the slowly
moving file of prisoners.

"They began to cry from both sides," says Radisson; "we marching one
after another, environed with people to witness that hideous sight,
which seriously may be called the image of Hell in this world."