pike to the birds of the air. Though Pontgrave
left a garrison of twenty-eight when he sailed for France, less than a
dozen men had survived the plague of scurvy when the ships came back to
Champlain in 1609.

Champlain's part had been to explore. Now that his fort was built, he
planned to do this by allying himself with the Indians, who came down
to trade at Quebec. These were the Hurons and Montaignais, the former
from the Ottawa, the latter from Labrador. Both waged ceaseless war on
the Iroquois south of the St. Lawrence. After bartering their furs for
weapons from the traders, the allied tribes would set out on the
warpath against the Iroquois. In June, Champlain and eleven white men
accompanied the roving warriors.

The way led from the St. Lawrence south, up the River Richelieu.
Champlain's boat was a ponderous craft; and when the shiver of the
sparkling rapids came with a roar through the dank forest, the heavy
boat had to be sent back to Quebec. Adopting the light birch canoe of
the Indian, Champlain went on, accompanied by only two white men. Of
Indians, there were twenty-four canoes with sixty warriors. For the
first part of the voyage night was made hideous by the grotesque war
dances of the braves lashing themselves to fury by scalp raids in
pantomime, or by the medicine men holding solemn converse with the
demons of earth; the tent poles of the medicine lodge rocked as if by
wind, while eldritch howls predicted victory. {47} Then the long line
of silent canoes had spread out on that upland lake named after
Champlain, the heavily forested Adirondacks breaking the sky line on
one side, the Green Mountains rolling away on the other. Caution now
marked all advance. The Indians paddled only at night, withdrawing to
the wooded shore through the morning mist to hide in the undergrowth
for the day. This was the land of the Iroquois.

[Illustration: DEFEAT OF THE IROQUOIS (From Champlain's drawing)]

On July 29, as the invaders were stealing silently along the west shore
near Crown Point at night about ten o'clock, there were seen by the
starlight, coming over the water with that peculiar galloping motion of
paddlers dipping together, the Iroquois war canoes. Each side
recognized the other, and the woods rang with shouts; but gathering
clouds and the mist rising from the river screened the foes from mutual
attack, though the night echoed to shout and countershout and challenge
and abuse. Through