“Travelers,” he replied briefly, and the three bent to their paddles.

“What travelers are you and where are you going?” demanded the officer, in the same imperious manner.

The wash of the heavy boat made the frail canoe rock perilously, but its three occupants appeared not to notice it.  Using wonderful skill, they always brought it back to the true level and maintained a steady course ahead.  On board the larger boat the oarsmen, rowing hard, kept near, and for the third time the officer demanded: 

“Who are you?  I represent the authority of His Majesty, King Louis of France, upon this river, and unless you answer explicitly I shall order my men to run you down.”

“But we are messengers,” said Robert calmly.  “We bear letters of great importance to the Marquis Duquesne at Quebec.  If you sink us it’s likely the letters will go down with us.”

“It’s another matter if you are on such a mission, but I must demand once more your names.”

“The highest in rank among us is the young chief, or coming chief, Tayoga, of the clan of the Bear, of the nation Onondaga, of the great League of the Hodenosaunee.  Next comes David Willet, a famous hunter and scout, well known throughout the provinces of New York and Massachusetts and even in Canada, and often called by his friends, the Iroquois, the Great Bear.  As for me, I am Robert Lennox, of Albany and sometimes of New York, without rank or office.”

The officer abated his haughty manner.  The answer seemed to please him.

“That surely is explicit enough,” he said.  “I am Louis de Galisonniere, a captain of the battalion Languedoc, stationed for the present at Montreal and charged with the duty of watching the river for all doubtful characters, in which class I was compelled to put the three of you, if you gave no explanations.”

“Galisonniere!  That is a distinguished name.  Was there not a Governor General of Canada who bore it?”

“A predecessor of the present Governor General, the Marquis Duquesne.  It gives me pride to say that the Count de Galisonniere was my uncle.”

Robert saw that he had found the way to young Galisonniere’s good graces through his family and he added with the utmost sincerity, too: 

“New France has had many a great Governor General, as we of the English colonies ought to know, from the Sieur de Roberval, through Champlain, Frontenac, de Beauharnais and on to your uncle, the Count de Galisonniere.”

Willet and the Onondaga gave Robert approving looks, and the young Frenchman flushed with pleasure.

“You have more courtesy and appreciation for us than most of the Bostonnais,” he said.  “I would talk further with you, but conversation is carried on with difficulty under such circumstances.  Suppose we run into the first cove, lift your canoe aboard, and we’ll take you to Montreal, since that’s our own port of destination.”