needed who could speak Iroquois. Glad to repay his debt to the
Jesuits, young Radisson volunteered to go as a _donné_, that is, a lay
helper vowed to gratuitous services.

It was midsummer before all preparations had been made. On July 26,
the party of two hundred, made up of twenty Frenchmen, eighty Iroquois,
and a hundred Hurons, filed out of the gates of Montreal, and winding
round the foot of the mountain followed a trail through the forest that
took them past the Lachine Rapids. The Onondaga _voyageurs_ carried
the long birch canoes inverted on their shoulders, two Indians at each
end; and the other Iroquois trotted over the rocks with the Frenchmen's
baggage on their backs. The day was hot, the _portage_ long and
slippery with dank moisture. The Huron children fagged and fell
behind. At nightfall, thirty of the haughty Iroquois lost patience,
and throwing down their bundles made off for Quebec with the avowed
purpose of raiding the Algonquins. On the way, they paused to scalp
three Frenchmen at Montreal, cynically explaining that if the French
persisted in taking Algonquins into their arms, the white men need not
be surprised if the blow aimed at an Algonquin sometimes struck a
Frenchman. That act opened the eyes of the French to the real meaning
of the peace made with the Iroquois; but the little colony was beyond
recall. To insure the safety of the French among the Onondagas, the
French governor at Quebec seized a dozen Iroquois and kept them as
hostages of good conduct.

Meanwhile, all was confusion on Lake St. Louis, where the last band of
colonists had encamped. The Iroquois had cast the Frenchmen's baggage
on the rocks and refused to carry it farther. Leaving the whites all
embarrassed, the Onondagas hurriedly embarked the Hurons and paddled
quickly out of sight. The act was too suddenly unanimous not to have