"Andt you fooled Joncaire!" repeated Peter admiringly.
'Twas that indeed which pleased him most. He insisted upon our repeating the tale with all details, and I believe he would have required a third account had it not been for the interruption which came during the afternoon.
We were sitting in the commandant's quarters on the upper floor of the block-house when the sentries on the stockade announced a large fleet of canoes approaching from the west. The lieutenant promptly issued orders to get out the trade-goods, and prepared for an impressive reception of the savages, deeming them emissaries of some tribe come to exchange their fur-catch of the Winter.
But the leading canoes held on past the fort, and none of those which followed gave indication of intent to steer inshore.
"Hafe you a canoe?" asked Corlaer of the bewildered lieutenant. "Ja? Well, my friendts andt I will go andt ask what this means."
We launched the canoe from the water-gate, and with Peter and Ta-wan-ne-ars at the paddles, sped out into the lake. Some distance from shore we overhauled the rear squadron of the fleet, every canoe loaded deep with packages of furs.
"Ho, brothers," called Ta-wan-ne-ars. "Who are you?"
The nearest canoe hove to.
"We are Necariagues," answered a paddler. "In front of us are Ottawas and Missisakies."
"The Chief of the English fort, who commands here in the name of Ga-en-gwa-ra-go, invites you to come ashore and trade with him."