pace
of ground, and the chief halted in the middle of this. He and his men
had scarcely noticed the Frenchmen as they followed, seemingly trusting
the honour of the invaders that they would not attack from behind. It
was these Indians who had been seen in the mirage. They had followed the
Frenchmen, had gone parallel with them for scores of miles, and had at
last at this strategic point waylaid them.

The conference was short. The French ranged in column on one side, the
Indians on the other, and then the chief stepped forward. De Troyes did
the same and not far behind him were Iberville, the other officers, and
Perrot. Behind the chief was the champion, then, a little distance away,
on either side, the Indian councillors.

The chief waved his hand proudly towards the armed warriors behind
him, as if showing their strength, speaking meanwhile, and then with
effective gesture, remarking the handful of French. Presently, pointing
to his fighting man, he seemed to ask that the matter be settled by
single combat.

The French leaders understood: Goliath would have his David. The
champion suddenly began a sing-song challenge, during which Iberville
and his comrades conferred. The champion's eyes ran up and down the line
and alighted on the large form of De Casson, who calmly watched him.
Iberville saw this look and could not help but laugh, though the matter
was serious. He pictured the good abbe fighting for the band. At this
the champion began to beat his breast defiantly.

Iberville threw off his coat, and motioned his friends back. Immediately
there was protest. They had not known quite what to do, but Perrot had
offered to fight the champion, and they, supposing it was to be a fight
with weapons, had hastily agreed. It was clear, however, that it was
to be a wrestle to the death. Iberville quelled all protests, and they
stepped back. There was a final call from the champion, and then he
became silent. From the Indians rose one long cry of satisfaction, and
then they too stilled, the chief fell back, and the two men stood alone
in the centre. Iberville, whose face had become grave, went to De Casson
and whispered to him. The abbe gave him his blessing, and then he turned
and went back. He waved his hand to his brothers and his friends,--a
gay Cavalier-like motion,--then took off all save his small clothes and
stood out.

Never was seen, perhaps, a stranger sight: a gentleman of France ranged
against a savage wrestle