g wigwams, the mangled bodies, the bloody scalps, were
pictures of beauty to their eyes. And, most glorious of all, to their
purely unangelic natures, was the triumphant return to their village
with prisoners to run the dreadful gauntlet; and to writhe, and perhaps
be forced to scream, beneath the fiend-like tortures of the stake.

The next morning the Iroquois warriors, instead of turning their steps
homewards, flocked, in large numbers, into the village of the Illinois.
They were evidently bent upon picking a quarrel. They swaggered through
the streets, insulted the women, trampled the corn-fields, and went
even so far as to disinter, and knock about the bones of the dead.

It soon became manifest to all, that a bloody conflict was inevitable.
The chiefs directed all the women and children to retire as silently
and unobserved as possible, and hide themselves in the forest, behind a
distant hill. Here they were in the vicinity of a trail which led quite
directly to the Mississippi River. If the Illinois were defeated in the
battle, they could by this line of retreat, cross the Great River, and
take refuge with a friendly tribe upon the other side. Then the
Illinois warriors, in a body, without venturing upon an engagement
abandoned the village to the Iroquois, and commenced a precipitate
flight to the Mississippi. They were not pursued. The Iroquois chiefs
would not lead the young men in an enterprise which they deemed so
dishonorable.

As we have said, the control of the chiefs over the daring and lawless
spirits of the young savages was feeble. The French garrison was
greatly weakened by death and desertion. There was much reason to fear
that the savages would fall upon them, and kill them all, for the sake
of the plunder they would find in the fort. There was nothing to detain
the missionaries. Upon the retirement of the Iroquois, they would be
left in a lone and silent wilderness.

Lieutenant Tonti, and his two clerical associates, Fathers Membre and
Gabriel, held a consultation, and decided upon an immediate withdrawal.
It was the 13th of September, 1680. Their desire was to go back to
Mackinaw, which station La Salle would necessarily revisit on his
return from Frontenac, with reinforcements and supplies. Their numbers
were so diminished, and their departure so hasty, that they all
embarked in one frail canoe. The chiefs so far restrained the young
savages, that no attack was made upon them. But the leaders of