Thus does Champlain describe the savage as he is about to fall upon his foe.  He gives special prominence to the soothsayer, who on the eve of battle enters into elaborate intercourse with the devil.  Inside a wooden hut the necromancer lies prostrate on the ground, motionless.  Then he springs to his feet and begins to torment himself, counterfeiting strange tones to represent the speech of the devil, and carrying on violent antics which leave him in a stream of perspiration.  Outside the hut the Indians sit round on their haunches like apes and fancy that they can see fire proceeding from the roof, although the devil appears to the soothsayer in the form of a stone.  Finally, the chiefs, when they have by these means learned that they will meet their enemy and kill a sufficient number, arrange the order of battle.  Sticks a foot long are taken, one for each warrior, and these are laid out on a level place five or six feet square.  The leader then explains the order of battle, after which the warriors substitute themselves for the sticks and go through the manoeuvres till they can do them without confusion.

From this description of tactics we pass speedily to a story of real war.  Reaching Lake Champlain, the party skirted the western shore, with fine views of the Green Mountains, on the summit of which Champlain mistook white limestone for snow.  On July 29, at Crown Point, the Iroquois were encountered at about ten o’clock in the evening.  Thus the first real battle of French and Indians took place near that remarkable spot where Lake Champlain and Lake George draw close together—­the Ticonderoga of Howe, the Carillon of Montcalm.

The Algonquins were in good courage, for, besides the muskets of the three Frenchmen, they were inspired by a dream of Champlain that he had seen the Iroquois drowning in a lake.  As soon as the enemies saw each other, both began to utter loud cries and make ready their weapons.  The Algonquins kept out on the water; the Iroquois went ashore and built a barricade.  When the Algonquins had made ready for battle

they dispatched two canoes to the enemy to inquire if they wished to fight, to which the latter replied that they wished nothing else; but they said that at present there was not much light, and that it would be necessary to wait for day so as to be able to recognize each other; and that as soon as the sun rose they would offer us battle.  This was agreed to by our side.  Meanwhile the entire night was spent in dancing and singing, on both sides, with endless insults and other talk; as how little courage we had, how feeble a resistance we should make against their arms, and that when day came we should realize it to our ruin.  Ours also were not slow in retorting, telling them that they would see such execution of arms as never before, together with an abundance of such talk as is not unusual in the siege of a town.

Care had been taken by the Algonquins that the presence