ep, and broke out into the
following wild song of boasting and triumph:--

Down I took my spear, my tough spear--
Down I took my bow, my good bow,
Fill'd my quiver with sharp arrows,
Slung my hatchet to my shoulder.
Forth I wander'd to the wild wood.
Who comes yonder?
Red his forehead with the war-paint--
Ha! I know him by his feather--
Leader of the Ottawas,
Eagle of his warlike nation,
And he comes to dip that feather
In a vanquish'd Maqua's blood.

Then I pois'd my tough ash spear,
Then I bent my pride of bows,
From my quiver drew an arrow,
Rais'd my war-cry--ha! he falls!
From his crest I took the feather,
From his crown I tore the scalp-lock.
Shout his friends their cry of vengeance--
What avails it? are they eagles?
Nought else may o'ertake the Maqua.

Came the Hurons to our border--
Hurons from the Lake of Thunder--
Hurons far renown'd for valour--
Forth I went with six to meet them:
In my cabin hang ten scalp-locks.
Should I fear a mortal warrior?
No--a Maqua never trembles.

Why should I fear?
I never told a lie,
Kind have I been to father and to mother,
I never turn'd my back upon a foe.
I slew my people's enemies--
Why should I fear to die?
Let the flame be kindled round me,
Let them tear my flesh with pincers,
Probe me with a burning arrow,
I can teach a coward Mingo
How a valiant man should die.

These were not exactly the kind of tales which M. Verdier had crossed
the ocean and threaded the forest to hear, but he patiently awaited
their conclusion. At a signal from a venerated chief, their martial
narratives were dropped, and all retired to their seats. The dance was
succeeded by a feast, of which the chiefs and warriors, together with
their guest, first partook, and afterwards the men of inferior note.
Before a mouthful was tasted, however, the best and juiciest pieces of
the deer were selected as an offering to the Great Spirit. They were not
laid upon the fire till the priest had been called to the performance of
certain rites and ceremonies by the following hymn, chanted in their
peculiarly solemn and impressive manner:--

INDIAN HYMN, OR INVOCATION.

From the wilderness we bring
The fat buck we have slain,
We have laid him on the coals:
Lord of Life!
Lord of Life!
We have opened the door,