chief, George Washington, who had been so good to the Indians, and had sent them many presents during the war.  These strangers had been defeated, and thousands of them had already arrived in ships, and were coming up the river to take possession of the hunting-grounds.  The Indians would be driven out.  They would die, because the newcomers would kill all the moose, deer, and caribou, cut down the trees, and destroy the fish on the various streams.  These were some of the things they would do, and the Indians would have no hunting-grounds, so they, their wives and their children would starve.  Would the Indians allow this?  Would they let these bad men come in and take their lands?  No, they must fight, drive these people out, and keep the country which was theirs by right.  And now was the time to fight, before too many strangers arrived.

This in brief was Flazeet’s long harangue.  It made a deep impression upon the Indians, and they voiced their sentiments by occasional grunts of approval.  So excited did several become when the speech was ended, that they leaped to their feet, and inflamed by the words and the rum, they were ready to march at once against the strangers.  But Flazeet told them to wait, as the newcomers were many and well armed.  It would be necessary to move slowly, and to be very careful.  And, besides, there were Indians who would stand by the treaty which had been made with King George at the mouth of the river, and they would have to fight against them.  This matter must be kept a profound secret, and when they did attack, it must be swift and deadly.

With considerable difficulty Flazeet managed to calm the warlike natives.  Then more rum was passed around, followed by much talking and squabbling.  All this was most gratifying to Flazeet, and especially interesting to the two couriers concealed among the bushes.  Pete’s great body quivered with excitement, and Dane could hardly control himself.  How he longed for a score of tested men, that he might spring upon the rebels, and give them the surprise of their lives.

When at length the excitement had subsided, Gab Rauchad rose slowly to his feet.  He was a wiry little half-breed, with a cunning, fox-like face.  He spoke in French, and he addressed himself chiefly to his own people.  He took them back to the expulsion of the Acadians by the English in 1755, a tale old and yet ever new.  In vivid language he described the happy condition of the Acadians at Grand Pre, the lands they had cleared, and the peaceful lives they led.  Then came the English monsters, broke up their domestic hearths, confiscated their property, and drove them from the country.  He described in detail the privations the expelled Acadians endured, how they wandered from place to place, and the ills which overtook them.