family scene previously described, a noise was
heard without, the latch was lifted, and a troop of Lecour's neighbours
and dependants pushed in, an old fiddler at their head, who, clattering
forward in _sabots_, removed his blue _tuque_ from his head, and
politely bowed to Lecour.

"Father," he said, "these young people ask your permission to give a
dance in honour of Monsieur Germain."

The Lecours appreciated the honour; the room was cleared, music struck
up, and festivity was soon in progress. What a display of neat ankles
and deft feet in mocassins! What a clattering of _sabots_ and shuffling
of "beefs"! The perspiration rolled off the brow of the musician, and
young Lecour was whirling round like a madcap with the daughter of the
ferryman of Repentigny, when the latch was again lifted, and the door
silently opened.

Every woman set up a shriek. The threshold was crowded with Indians in
warpaint!

All the settlers knew that paint and its dangers.

The dancers drew back to one side of the room, and some opened the door
of the warehouse adjoining and took refuge in its vaulted shadows. But
Lecour himself, the former soldier, was no man to tremble. "Come in," he
said, without betraying a trace of any feeling.

Seven chiefs stalked grimly across the floor in single file, carrying
their tomahawks and knives in their hands, their great silver treaty
medals hanging from their necks, and their brightly dyed eagle feathers
quivering above their heads, and six sat down opposite Lecour on the
floor. Their leader, Atotarho, Grand Chief of Oka, stood erect and
silent, an expression of warlike fierceness on his face.

"Atotarho!" exclaimed the merchant.

"It is I," the Grand Chief answered. "Where is the young man?"

"Here," replied Germain, stepping forward with a sangfroid which pleased
his father. He faced the powerful Indian.

Atotarho shook his tomahawk towards the ceiling, uttered a piercing
war-whoop, and commenced to execute the war-dance, chanting this song in
his native Six-Nation tongue--

"Our forefathers made the rule and said: 'Here they are to kindle a
fire; here at the edge of the woods.'"

One of the chiefs drummed on a small tom-tom. The chant continued--

"Show me the man!

"Hail, my grandsires; now hearken while your grand-children cry
unto you, you who established the Great League. Come back, ye
warriors, and help us.

"Come back, ye warriors, and sit abou