six miles above Carillon, for they knew that the Iroquois returning from the hunt must pass this place.  They installed themselves within a wretched palisade, where they were joined almost at once by two Indian chiefs who, having challenged each other’s courage, sought an occasion to surpass one another in valour.  They were Anahotaha, at the head of forty Hurons, and Metiomegue, accompanied by four Algonquins.  They had not long to wait; two canoes bore the Iroquois crews within musket shot; those who escaped the terrible volley which received them and killed the majority of them, hastened to warn the band of three hundred other Iroquois from whom they had become detached.  The Indians, relying on an easy victory, hastened up, but they hurled themselves in vain upon the French, who, sheltered by their weak palisade, crowned its stakes with the heads of their enemies as these were beaten down.  Exasperated by this unexpected check, the Iroquois broke up the canoes of their adversaries, and, with the help of these fragments, which they set on fire, attempted to burn the little fortress; but a well sustained fire prevented the rashest from approaching.  Their pride yielding to their thirst for vengeance, these three hundred men found themselves too few before such intrepid enemies, and they sent for aid to a band of five hundred of their people, who were camped on the Richelieu Islands.  These hastened to the attack, and eight hundred men rushed upon a band of heroes strengthened by the sentiment of duty, the love of country and faith in a happy future.  Futile efforts!  The bullets made terrible havoc in their ranks, and they recoiled again, carrying with them only the assurance that their numbers had not paralyzed the courage of the French.

But the aspect of things was about to change, owing to the cowardice of the Hurons.  Water failed the besieged tortured by thirst; they made sorties from time to time to procure some, and could bring back in their small and insufficient vessels only a few drops, obtained at the greatest peril.  The Iroquois, aware of this fact, profited by it in order to offer life and pardon to the Indians who would go over to their side.  No more was necessary to persuade the Hurons, and suddenly thirty of them followed La Mouche, the nephew of the Huron chief, and leaped over the palisades.  The brave Anahotaha fired a pistol shot at his nephew, but missed him.  The Algonquins remained faithful, and died bravely at their post.  The Iroquois learned through these deserters the real number of those who were resisting them so boldly; they then took an oath to die to the last man rather than renounce victory, rather than cast thus an everlasting opprobrium on their nation.  The bravest made a sort of shield with fagots tied together, and, placing themselves in front of their comrades, hurled themselves upon the palisades, attempting to tear them up.  The supreme moment of the struggle has come; Dollard is aware of it.  While his brothers