l him," said he. "When Godefroy's tongue is out he can't
grumble, and grumbling is his bread of life!"

Stripping off his bright doublet, M. Radisson hung it from a tree to
attract the fort's notice. Then he posted us in ambuscade with orders to
capture whatever came.

But nothing came.

And when the fort guns boomed out the noon hour M. Radisson sprang up all
impatience.

"I'll wait no man's time," he vowed. "Losing time is losing the game!
Launch out!"

Chittering something about our throats being cut, Godefroy shrank back.
With a quick stride M. Radisson was towering above him. Catching
Godefroy by the scruff of the neck, he threw him face down into the
canoe, muttering out it would be small loss if all the cowards in the
world had their throats cut.

"The pirates come to trade," he explained. "They will not fire at
Indians. Bind your hair back like that Indian there!"

No sooner were we in the range of the fort than M. Radisson uttered the
shrill call of a native, bade our Indian stand up, and himself enacted
the pantomime of a savage, waving his arms, whistling, and hallooing.
With cries of welcome, the fort people ran to the shore and left their
guns unmanned. Reading from a syllable book, they shouted out Indian
words. It was safe to approach. Before they could arm we could escape.
But we were two men, one lad, and a neutral Indian against an armed
garrison in a land where killing was no murder.

M. de Radisson stood up and called in the Indian tongue. They did not
understand.

"New to it," commented Radisson, "not the Hudson's Bay Company!"

All the while he was imperceptibly approaching nearer. He shouted in
French. They shook their heads.

"English highwaymen, blundered in here by chance," said he.

Tearing off the Indian head-band of disguise, he demanded in mighty
peremptory tones who they were.

"English," they called back doubtfully.

"What have you come for?" insisted Radisson, with a great swelling of his
chest.

"The beaver trade," came a faint voice.

Where had I heard it before? Did it rise from the ground in the woods,
or from a far memory of children throwing a bully into the sea?

"I demand to see your license," boldly challenged Radisson.

At that the fellows ashore put their heads together.

"In the name of the king, I demand to see your license instantly,"
repeated Sieur de Radisson, with louder authority.

"We have no license," explained one of the men, wh