seen approaching the village.
His bow was broken; his dress torn and besmeared with blood. The
inhabitants, who were on the watch, anxiously went out to meet him. He
hung down his head without uttering a word, and not for some time could
he be induced to speak.

At length, a groan bursting from his breast, he exclaimed--

"All, all, are lost! In vain our warriors, led by Tuscarora, fought to
the last. One after another they were shot down by the bullets of the
white faces, or cut to pieces by the war hatchets of the hated Tuparas.
Our French allies, deserting the fort, fought their way to their boats,
and, embarking, fled to their ships, leaving us to our fate. Two only
with myself escaped by leaping over the walls, and swimming to a canoe
floating by. Both of my companions were wounded. As we were paddling
on, as fast as our strength would allow, we caught sight of a canoe with
two Portuguese boats in pursuit. We were unobserved, but we had too
much reason to fear that the canoe was overtaken. Just as we reached
the shore, the paddles dropped from the hands of my two companions, and
they sank down from loss of blood. When I called to them, they gave no
answer. They were both dead. I waited in vain for the arrival of our
friends, but none appeared, and I at length came on to bring the sad
tidings."

As the wounded warrior finished his narrative, loud wailings rose from
the women in the camp. No threats of vengeance were uttered, for they
felt their utter helplessness, and they knew that they themselves might
become the prey of any of their foes who might be induced to attack
them. At length an old man arose in their midst.

"Give not way to despair, my daughters," he exclaimed; "you have still
many sons. We will fly with them to a place of safety, and there teach
them how their brave fathers fought and died with their faces to the
foe. They will grow up, and, hearing of their deeds, will imitate their
valour, and revenge the deaths of their sires."

The words of the aged warrior restored the drooping courage of the poor
women, and they resolved to follow his counsel. A few men, who from
sickness or other causes had not gone forth to battle, and the youths
who had not sufficient strength to draw their mighty bows, vowed to
defend them and the chief's daughter to the last gasp. Cora deputed the
old warrior to take the lead, and, as they believed the Tuparas, flushed
with victory, would ere long purs