was a tall hill, crowned with timber; round about it grew poplar,
white oak, and firs; while in front rolled by a swift dark stream.
Unsuspecting harm, two priests of the settlement, Oblat Fathers,
named Fafard and Marchand, were the first at the spot.

"What a gloomy day," Pere Fafard said, "and this lodge set here in
this desolate spot seems to make it more gloomy still. What, I
wonder, is the nature of the business?" Then they knocked, and the
chief was heard to say,

"Entrez." Opening the door, the two good priests walked in, and
turned to look for seats. Ah! What was the sight presented! Eyes like
those of wild beasts, aflame with hate and ferocity, gleamed from the
gloom of the back portion of the room. The priests were amazed. They
knew not what all this meant. Then a wild shriek was given, and the
chief cried,

"Enemies to the red man, you have come to your doom." Then raising
his rifle, he fired at Father Marchand. The levelling of his rifle
was the general signal. A dozen other muzzles were pointed, and in
briefer space than it takes to relate the two priests lay weltering
in their blood, pierced each by half a dozen bullets.

"Clear away these corpses," shouted the chief, and "be ready for the
next." There was soon another knock, and the same wolfish voice
replied as before,

"Entrez." This time a tall, manly young fellow, named Charles Gowan,
opened the door and entered, Always on the alert for Indian
treachery, he had his suspicion now, before entering suspected