s climb up the river bluff. "Know you
what has been concluded?"

"No; how should I guess?" replied Jean Breboeuf. "Or, at least, if I
should guess, what else should I guess save that we are to take boat at
once and set back to Montreal as fast as we may? But that--what is this?
Whose house is that yonder?"

"'Tis our own, _mon enfant_," replied Du Mesne, dryly. "'Twas perhaps
the property of the Iroquois a moon ago. A moon before that time the
soil it stands on belonged to the Illini. To-day both house and soil
belong to us. See; here stood the village. There are the cornfields, cut
and trampled by the Iroquois. Here are the kettles of the natives--"

"But, but--why--what is all this? Why do we not hasten away?" broke in
Jean Breboeuf.

"Pish! We do not go away. We remain where we are."

"Remain? Stay here, and be eaten by the Iroquois? Nay! not Jean
Breboeuf."

Du Mesne smiled broadly at his terrors, and a dry grin even broke over
the features of the impassive old trapper, Tete Gris.

"Not so fast with your going away, Jean, my brother," said Du Mesne.
"Thou'rt ever hinting of corn and the bean; now see what can be done in
this garden-place of the Iroquois and the Illini. You are appointed head
gardener for the post!"

"Messieurs, _me voila_," said Jean Breboeuf, dropping his hands in
despair. "Were I not the bravest man in all New France I should leave
you at this moment. It is mad, quite mad you are, every one of you! I,
Jean Breboeuf, will remain, and, if necessary, will protect. Corn, and
perhaps the bean, ye shall have; perhaps oven some of those little roots
that the savages dig and eat; but, look you, this is but because you are
with one who is brave. _Enfin_, I go. I bend me to the hoe, here in this
place, like any peasant."

"An excellent hoe can be made from the blade bone of an elk, as the
woman Wabana will perhaps show you if you like," said Pierre Noir,
derisively, to his comrade of the paddle.

"Even so," said Jean Breboeuf. "I make me the hoe. Could I have but
thee, old Pierre, to sit on a stump and fright the crows away, I make no
doubt that all would go well with our husbandry. I had as lief go
_censitaire_ for Monsieur L'as as for any seignieur on the Richelieu; of
that be sure, old Pierre."

"Faith," replied the latter, "when it comes to frightening crows, I'll
even agree to sit on a stump with my musket across my knees and watch
you work. 'Tis a good place for a sentinel--to keep the c