"I got this from Donnacona five years ago, and I have kept it from the
world till this moment, fearing that calamity might befall it."

He spread it on the table, and on one corner rested the tempting nugget.

It was a marvellous map; the map of an unknown world of wonders.

"I can swear to the truth of this part at least," said Cartier. "This is
Hochelaga, and here are marked the difficult rapids above it. These five
inland seas are without doubt in existence. Many Indians have told me of
them; and see, Sieur, this one is incomplete. Donnacona told me that no
Indian had ever reached its end; and yet there are tales among the
Indians of richly-robed men of another race and colour who live beyond
these vast western waters. I do not like to conjecture in so great an
undertaking, but does it not seem probable that we have at last before
us the road to the East, and to the Kingdom of the Grand Khan?"

"Enough, enough, Cartier!" said Roberval, laughing. "You are too
enthusiastic. What next will you have to offer? Already we have had
furs, fish, timber, gold, silver, precious stones, and Indian souls. You
must think I need great temptation to be lured into this enterprise. But
what have we here, to the north of this ocean?"

"I am glad you have noticed that," replied Cartier. "Those rude marks
are the mines. They are of great antiquity; and Donnacona, who had no
idea of the value of the precious metals, spoke of the men of old who
dug for metal such as we wore on our fingers, and about our necks. He
had a fine scorn for such baubles; and, as if to impress us with their
worthlessness, stood on the heights of Stadacona, and pointed with pride
to the wigwams of his tribe clustering at the foot of the cliff: 'But,'
he said, 'the men who wrought the metal are no more. Mighty oaks grow
from the earth in which they toiled.'"

Roberval seemed scarcely to heed this long harangue. He gazed intently
at the map, and did not raise his eyes till the voice of La Pommeraye,
who had hitherto been silent, broke upon his ear.

"What Cartier has told you, Sieur, is true. I too have heard the same
tales from very different sources. But, to my mind, Cartier and De
Pontbriand, in advocating their expedition, have left out the most
important consideration. Spain is already in the New World. Cortez has
brought shiploads of gold from Mexico; Ponce de Leon, Garay, Vasquez de
Ayllon, and Hernando de Soto have all brought home tales of treasure and