Hard luck could not have dealt us a shrewder stroke. In my first glance I spied the trappings of the French Marine Infantry, the regular troops of the Canadian garrisons, the glitter of an officer's gorget, and worst of all, the flutter of the black robe of a priest. Interspersed with these were habitants in buckskin and painted Ouabaches, Miamis and Potawatomis to man the paddles. There were fifteen or twenty canoes, varying from slender craft smaller than ours to larger ones that accommodated six or eight men.
We all three backed water instinctively as we appreciated the situation, but Tawannears redipped his paddle and drove forward again almost without a check.
"It is useless to flee, brothers," he murmured. "We must stand firm."
There were several shouts from the fleet ahead, and two of the smaller craft sped out from their irregular formation. Tawannears ceased paddling for an instant and raised his right arm, palm out, in the signal for peace. A French officer, in laced coat and cocked hat, in one of the large canoes answered him in kind, and the Indians who occupied the two small canoes sheered off as soon as they descried the wolf's head on his chest. No ordinary wood-ranging savages cared to encounter a chief of the Long House in peace time, even with the backing of French troops. They knew their betters, had learned to know them through many a bloody foray.
The French flotilla drifted idly, awaiting us as we paddled slowly between the leading canoes toward the one in which was seated the officer who had acknowledged Tawannears' greeting.
"Who is he?" I asked, when we came close enough to identify his corpulent form and massive face.
"Charles Le Moyne."
"The Chevalier de Longueuil?" I exclaimed.
"Yes, brother."
I stared at the man with increased interest. He was one of the four greatest men in Canada, the eldest son and heir of that Baron de Longueuil who was Lieutenant Governor. He ranked next after the Governor-General, himself, the Intendant and his father. 'Twas no slight mission had brought him so far from home.