savages know by the report how formidably they were provided.  The noise echoed along the shores of the river, and must have startled the warriors who were only accustomed to sharp reports of rifles.  The same pieces were then loaded with as many bullets as they would probably bear; after which the whole party embarked, and pulled across the river.  The Indians remained watching them in silence, their painted forms and visages glaring in the sun, and their feathers fluttering in the breeze.  The poor Canadians eyed them with rueful glances, and now and then a fearful ejaculation escaped them.  “Parbleu! this is a sad scrape we are in, brother!” one would mutter to the next oarsman.  “Aye, aye!” the other would reply, “we are not going to a wedding, my friend!”

When the boats arrived within rifle-shot, the hunters and other fighting personages on board seized their weapons, and prepared for action.  As they rose to fire, a confusion took place among the savages.  They displayed their buffalo robes, raised them with both hands above their heads, and then spread them before them on the ground.  At sight of this, Pierre Dorion eagerly cried out to the party not to fire, as this movement was a peaceful signal, and an invitation to a parley.  Immediately about a dozen of the principal warriors, separating from the rest, descended to the edge of the river, lighted a fire, seated themselves in a semicircle round it, and, displaying the calumet, invited the party to land.  Mr. Hunt now called a council of the partners on board of his boat.  The question was, whether to trust to the amicable overtures of these ferocious people?  It was determined in the affirmative; for, otherwise, there was no alternative but to fight them.  The main body of the party were ordered to remain on board of the boats, keeping within shot and prepared to fire in case of any signs of treachery; while Mr. Hunt and the other partners (M’Kenzie, Crooks, Miller, and M’Lellan) proceeded to land, accompanied by the interpreter and Mr. Bradbury.  The chiefs, who awaited them on the margin of the river, remained seated in their semicircle, without stirring a limb or moving a muscle, motionless as so many statues.  Mr. Hunt and his companions advanced without hesitation, and took their seats on the sand so as to complete the circle.  The band of warriors who lined the banks above stood looking down in silent groups and clusters, some ostentatiously equipped and decorated, others entirely naked but fantastically painted, and all variously armed.

The pipe of peace was now brought forward with due ceremony.  The bowl was of a species of red stone resembling porphyry; the stem was six feet in length, decorated with tufts of horse-hair dyed red.  The pipe-bearer stepped within the circle, lighted the pipe, held it towards the sun, then towards the different points of the compass, after which he handed it to the principal chief.  The latter smoked a few whiffs, then, holding the head of the pipe in his hand, offered