the rush of the frightened villagers. Among
these the Iroquois pressed with shrill yells, plying knife and bow and
hatchet as they ran, and the horrified eyes of those within the palisade
saw many a tragedy enacted.

"Watch the gate!" cried Pierre Noir, from his station in the corner
tower. As he spoke there came a rush of screaming Iroquois, who sought
to gain the entrance.

"Now!" cried Pierre Noir, discharging his piece into the crowded ranks
below him; and shot after shot followed his own. The packed brown mass
gave back and resolved itself into scattered units, who broke and ran
for the nearest cover.

"They will not come on again until dark," said Pierre Noir, calmly
leaning his piece against the wall. "Therefore I may attend to certain
little matters."

He passed out into the entry-way, where lay the bodies of three
Iroquois, abandoned, under the close and deadly fire, by their
companions where they had fallen. When Pierre Noir returned and calmly
propped up again the door of slabs which he had removed, he carried in
his hand three tufts of long black hair, from which dripped heavy gouts
of blood.

"Good God, man!" said Pembroke. "You must not be savage as these
Indians!"

"Speak for yourself, Monsieur Anglais," replied Pierre, stoutly. "You
need not save these head pieces if you do not care for them. For myself,
'tis part of the trade."

"Assuredly," broke in Jean Breboeuf. "We keep these trinkets, we
_voyageurs_ of the French. Make no doubt that Jean Breboeuf will take
back with him full tale of the Indians he has killed. Presently I go
out. Zip! goes my knife, and off comes the topknot of Monsieur Indian,
him I killed but now as he ran. Then I shall dry the scalp here by the
fire, and mount it on a bit of willow, and take it back for a present to
my sweetheart, Susanne Duchene, on the seignieury at home."

"Bravo, Jean!" cried out the old Indian fighter, Pierre Noir, the old
baresark rage of the fighting man now rising hot in his blood. "And
look! Here come more chances for our little ornaments."

Pierre Noir for once had been mistaken and underestimated the courage of
the warriors of the Onondagos. Lashing themselves to fury at the thought
of their losses, they came on again, now banding and charging in the
open close up to the walls of the palisade. Again the little party of
whites maintained a steady fire, and again the Iroquois, baffled and
enraged, fell back into the wood, whence they poured v