fifteen hundred Senecas were gathering about their homes. Before morning dawned a terrific war-whoop rent the air. Doors and windows were battered in, and a horrible slaughter began. Strong men, grey-haired women, and little children were heartlessly slain. The Indians maddened themselves with the brandy they found in the village, and after robbing its houses of all they contained, they set them on fire. For seven miles and a half a line of blazing buildings lit the dark waters of the St. Lawrence, while the people of Montreal looked on helplessly, in agonizing fear and rage. At daybreak a French officer, Subercase, started in pursuit of the savages, but Denonville sent after him in hot haste, for-bidding him to attempt the rescue of the wretched prisoners. Unopposed, the Iroquois now spread them-selves over twenty miles of open country, slaying and destroying without hindrance. For weeks they lingered in the neighbourhood. At last, after burning five prisoners opposite Lachine, where the fires could be seen by the friends of the sufferers, they paddled past Montreal uttering frightful yells to tell the number of their captives. Two hundred are believed to have perished in the massacre, while one hundred and twenty were captured alive, to endure untold tortures on reaching the Indian villages, or to become the bond-slaves of the savages.
The people had lost all faith in Denonville, and in October Frontenac again took the reins of government from his feeble hands. —