pelled Algonquin.
But the adjective from this noun is spelled Algonquian when applied to
Indians, and Algonkian when applied to a time or period in geology.

CHAPTER II

PISKARET THE ADIRONDACK CHAMPION (1645-1647)

HOW HE BROUGHT PEACE TO THE FORESTS

Piskaret was a hero. From lip to lip the story of his lone trail was
repeated through the bark lodges of the Algonkins, and the long houses
of the fierce Hurons, and even among the gentle nuns and gaunt priests
of the brave mission settlements upon the lower St. Lawrence River.

But the nuns and priests did not favor such bloody deeds, which led
only to more. Their teachings were all of peace rather than war
between men. Yet each and every one of them was as bold as Piskaret,
and to bring about peace would gladly go as far as he, and farther.

Now he did not lack followers. In the early spring of 1645, scarce a
twelve-month after his famous lone scout, he took with him six other
"Christian" Algonkin warriors, again to hunt the Iroquois.

Upon the large island in the St. Lawrence River, just below the mouth
of the Algonkin's River Ottawa, the fort and mission of Montreal had
been built, much to the rage of the roving Iroquois. It was the
farthest up-river of the French settlements, and in the midst of the
Iroquois favorite scouting grounds.

So bitter were the Iroquois, that all the fall and all the winter
Montreal had been in a state of siege.

Tired of such one-sided warfare, Piskaret resolved to strike another
blow. The broad St. Lawrence was fast locked by the winter's ice. His
small party dragged their three canoes over the level snowy surface,
and on eastward across a tongue of timbered land, to the River
Richelieu. This connects Lake Champlain of New York and the St.
Lawrence in Canada.

The Richelieu, flowing black and deep, had opened. It was the
water-trail of the Iroquois, and especially of the Mohawks. By it they
made their forays north to the St. Lawrence and the camps of their
enemies.

Every thicket along its banks and every curve in its course was likely
to be an ambush; but the fearless Piskaret party ascended clear to Lake
Champlain itself. Here they landed upon an island, concealed
themselves and their canoes in the wintry forest, and waited.

One day they heard a gun-shot. Some Iroquois were about, upon the lake
or upon the mainland.

"Come," spoke Piskaret, to his party. "Let us eat. It may be the last
time, for we