As we were leaving came a noise that set us all by the ears—the dull booming reverberations of heavy cannonading.
The Indians shook as with palsy. Jean Groseillers cried out that his father's ships were in peril. Godefroy implored the saints; but with that lying facility which was his doom, M. de Radisson blandly informed the savages that more of his vessels had arrived from France.
Bidding Jean go on to the Habitation with the Indians, he took the rest of us ashore with one redskin as guide, to spy out the cause of the firing.
"'Twill be a pretty to-do if the English Fur Company's ships arrive before we have a French fort ready to welcome them," said he.
CHAPTER X
THE CAUSE OF THE FIRING
The landing was but a part of the labyrinthine trickery in which our leader delighted to play; for while Jean delayed the natives we ran overland through the woods, launched our canoe far ahead of the Indian flotilla, and went racing forward to the throbs of the leaping river.
"If a man would win, he must run fast as the hour-glass," observed M. Radisson, poising his steering-pole. "And now, my brave lads," he began, counting in quick, sharp words that rang with command, "keep time—one—two—three! One—two—three!" And to each word the paddles dipped with the speed of a fly-wheel's spokes.
"One—two—three! In and up and on! An you keep yourselves in hand, men, you can win against the devil's own artillery! Speed to your strokes, Godefroy," he urged.