half covered with dirt swept over them by the storm of bullets. One
broken creature half raised herself from the bunch. A maddened trumpeter
threw up his gun to shoot, but Sergeant Johnson leaped and kicked his
gun out of his hands high into the air, saying, "This fight is over."




THE SPIRIT OF MAHONGUI


IT is so I have called this old document, which is an extract from the
memoirs of le Chevalier Bailloquet, a Frenchman living in Canada, where
he was engaged in the Indian fur trade, about the middle of the
seventeenth century, and as yet they are unpublished.

It is written in English, since the author lived his latter life in
England, having left Canada as the result of troubles with the
authorities.

He was captured by the Iroquois, and after living with them some time,
made his escape to the Dutch.

My Chevalier rambles somewhat, although I have been at pains to cut out
extraneous matter. It is also true that many will not believe him in
these days, for out of their puny volition they will analyze, and out of
their discontent they will scoff. But to those I say, Go to your
microbes, your statistics, your volts, and your bicycles, and leave me
the truth of other days.