r, without weapons, stripped to the waist, to
fight like a gladiator. But this was a new land, and Iberville could
ever do what another of his name or rank could not. There was only one
other man in Canada who could do the same--old Count Frontenac himself,
who, dressed in all his Court finery, had danced a war-dance in the
torch-light with Iroquois chiefs.

Stripped, Iberville's splendid proportions could be seen at advantage.
He was not massively made, but from crown to heel there was perfect
muscular proportion. His admirable training and his splendidly nourished
body--cared for, as in those days only was the body cared for--promised
much, though against so huge a champion. Then, too, Iberville in his
boyhood had wrestled with Indians and had learned their tricks. Added to
this were methods learned abroad, which might prove useful now. Yet any
one looking at the two would have begged the younger man to withdraw.
Never was battle shorter. Iberville, too proud to give his enemy one
moment of athletic trifling, ran in on him. For a time they were locked,
straining terribly, and then the neck of the champion went with a snap
and he lay dead in the middle of the green.

The Indians and the French were both so dumfounded that for a moment no
one stirred, and Iberville went back and quietly put on his clothes. But
presently cries of rage and mourning came from the Indians, and weapons
threatened. But the chief waved aggression down, and came forward to the
dead man. He looked for a moment, and then as Iberville and De Troyes
came near, he gazed at Iberville in wonder, and all at once reached out
both hands to him. Iberville took them and shook them heartily.

There was something uncanny in the sudden death of the champion, and
Iberville's achievement had conquered these savages, who, after all,
loved such deeds, though at the hand of an enemy. And now the whole
scene was changed. The French courteously but firmly demanded homage,
and got it, as the superior race can get it from the inferior, when
events are, even distantly, in their favour; and here were martial
display, a band of fearless men, weapons which the savages had never
seen before, trumpets, and, most of all, a chief who was his own
champion, and who had snapped the neck of their Goliath as one would
break a tree-branch.

From the moment Iberville and the chief shook hands they were friends,
and after two days, when they parted company, there was no Indian amo