of the Ottawa, pushing aside the blue St. Lawrence, divides into two streams, one passing on each side of the island, to meet again at Bout de l'Isle, and continue their united course to the ocean. Here, a turn to the right, and the passage of a few miles of swift current, brought them to their destination, not far from the foot of the Chaudie re Falls, whose foaming torrent, pouring over rocky ledges and boulders, barred their on-ward course. A partially dismantled and unroofed fort stood near the spot, and of this they thank-fully took possession, to await the painted and befeathered braves, whom they knew would soon appear along the adjacent path, returning from their winter's hunt.
They had not long to wait. Employed in strengthening the defences, they were soon perceived by scouts of the enemy, who hastened back to warn the tribe, and before they were ready, numbers of birch-bark canoes containing about two hundred warriors, some of whom were renegade Hurons, were seen, paddle in hand, steadily descending the turbulent current. Prepared for war, each dark athletic figure had its scalp-lock floating in the breeze, tomahawk in belt, and loaded musket ready at the bow. Cautiously approaching, and always under cover, sometimes