The slightest defeat may turn well-ordered retreat into panic.  If the explorers went on, the Iroquois would hang to the rear of the travelling Indians and pick off warriors till the Upper Country people became so weakened they would fall an easy prey.  Not flight, but fight, was Radisson’s motto.  He ordered his men ashore to break up the barricade.  Darkness fell over the forest.  The Iroquois could not see to fire.  “They spared not their powder,” relates Radisson, “but they made more noise than hurt.”  Attaching a fuse to a barrel of powder, Radisson threw this over into the Iroquois fort.  The crash of the explosion was followed by a blaze of the Iroquois musketry that killed three of Radisson’s men.  Radisson then tore the bark off a birch tree, filled the bole with powder, and in the darkness crept close to the Iroquois barricade and set fire to the logs.  Red tongues of fire leaped up, there was a roar as of wind, and the Iroquois fort was on fire.  Radisson’s men dashed through the fire, hatchet in hand.  The Iroquois answered with their death chant.  Friend and foe merged in the smoke and darkness.  “We could not know one another in that skirmish of blows,” says Radisson.  “There was noise to terrify the stoutest man.”  In the midst of the melee a frightful storm of thunder and sheeted rain rolled over the forest.  “To my mind,” writes the disgusted Radisson, “that was something extraordinary.  I think the Devil himself sent that storm to let those wretches escape, so that they might destroy more innocents.”  The rain put out the fire.  As soon as the storm had passed, Radisson kindled torches to search for the missing.  Three of his men were slain, seven wounded.  Of the enemy, eleven lay dead, five were prisoners.  The rest of the Iroquois had fled to the forest.  The Upper Indians burned their prisoners according to their custom, and the night was passed in mad orgies to celebrate the victory.  “The sleep we took did not make our heads giddy,” writes Radisson.

The next day they encountered more Iroquois.  Both sides at once began building forts; but when he could, Radisson always avoided war.  Having gained victory enough to hold the Iroquois in check, he wanted no massacre.  That night he embarked his men noiselessly; and never once stopping to kindle camp-fire, they paddled from Friday night to Tuesday morning.  The portages over rocks in the dark cut the voyageurs’ moccasins to shreds.  Every landing was marked with the blood of bruised feet.  Sometimes they avoided leaving any trace of themselves by walking in the stream, dragging their boats along the edge of the rapids.  By Tuesday the Indians were so fagged that they could go no farther without rest.  Canoes were moored in the hiding of the rushes till the voyageurs slept.  They had been twenty-two days going from Three Rivers to Lake Nipissing, and had not slept one hour on land.