and gazed in astonishment at the faces and clothes of the Frenchmen. Next day their old chief Donnacona came in state to visit Cartier, attended by a train of twelve canoes, full of Indians in paint and feathers, with tomahawke and bows and arrows. He left ten of his canoes at a safe distance and approaching the ships with the other two he began a long oration, inquiring whether the strangers had come for peace or war. With the help of his interpreters, Cartier succeeded in reassuring him, and invited him into his cabin, where he regaled him before they parted, the old chief kissing Cartier's arm and placing it round his own neck, as the greatest mark of respect he could show him. Cartier, of course, was eager to press on up the magnificent river which seemed to beckon him to follow its windings. But first he must find a convenient harbor for his ships. He sailed on till he reached the mouth of a little river flowing into a "goodly and pleasant sound," making a sheltered haven at a point which still seems the fitting portal of the fair Dominion of Canada. Here the river became a mile-wide strait. On one side were the wooded heights of Point Lévis; on the other, rising grand and sheer from the river, the great, brown rock of Cape Diamond, thrusting rugged scarped cliffs through its fringe of stately trees out into the dark river below. As the Frenchmen looked up at these rocky ramparts towering above the little Indian "village" that clung to their sides, as if for protection, they must have felt that here was a natural site for a commanding fortress. And, indeed, Quebec was destined, through centuries of struggle to be the key to the possession of Canada. Cartier moored his ships in the little river, which he called the St. Croix -now the St. Charles-and Donnacona came with a train of five hundred Indians to welcome him. Cartier, in his turn, landed to visit Stadacona, as the cluster of wigwams was called. Here the French captain and his friends were received with great joy and cordiality by the inhabitants, who were delighted to have the opportunity of a nearer view, and entertained them with their Indian songs and dances-the men and boys screeching out welcome, and the squaws dancing knee-deep in the water. Cartier's gifts of gay-colored beads redoubled their hilarity, and their joyous though discordant songs followed the departing French as they rowed out to the ships. But Cartier had heard that miles away up the river lay a large Indian town called Hochelaga, the capital of a great country. Thither he wished to proceed, with his two young Indian guides as interpreters. But Donnacona and the Indians seemed jealous of the strangers going further into their country, and tried a curious device for keeping them back. One morning the Frenchmen saw, from their ships lying at anchor in the St. Croix, a canoe containing three strange figures, clothed in black and white dog skins, with black faces and long horns. One of these, gazing straight before him, uttered a long harangue in the Indian tongue, as they passed the ships. Then, as they were paddling towards the shore, they all fell flat down in the canoe. The Indians on shore rushed down, screaming, to their aid, and carried them off to the woods, where an earnest debate seemed to follow, after which the Indian guides came to the shore, looking so dismayed that Cartier shouted to them, asking what was the matter. They replied that their god Coudouagny had sent to warn the French against ascending the great river further, as this would bring them into danger and disaster from storms and snow and drifting ice. Cartier only replied-smiling, no doubt, at the simple device-that Coudouagny was a fool; that he could not hurt. Christians, and that they could tell this to the messengers. The Indians seemed much delighted at his courage, dancing on the beach to show their satisfaction Cartier, however, desired to impress them still further with the Frenchman's power, and had a dozen of his cannon loaded with bullets and fired into the woods. As the Indians heard the thunder of the great guns reverberating for the first time from the hills and rocks which were destined often to hear them again, and saw the destroying rain of bullets crashing through the trees, they were overpowered with amazement and terror, and fled howling and shrieking far into the forest. Cartier now laid up his two larger ships in the St. Charles, and in his smallest vessel, the "Hermerillon," set sail again on the noble river. The September sunshine lay soft and golden on the yellowing forest, as the little bark floated slowly on between the high, wooded shores. Cartier marked all the features of the scenery with keen eye and eager observation; the broad windings of the river, the strange luxuriant foliage and clinging grape-vines that stretched their clustered festoons from tree to tree, the immense flocks of water-fowl they startled as they passed, the bright plumage of the golden oriole, the scarlet soldier-bird and the woodpecker, and the novel notes of the blackbird, robin and whip-poor-will, in which last the imaginative Frenchmen tried to believe they heard the voice of the nightingale once more The galleon grounded in Lake St. Peter, and from thence the party proceeded in small boats, between lower and tamer banks, till, on the second of October they approached the beautiful forest-crowned slopes of the hill below which lay the renowned Hochelaga. As they drew near Indians thronged the shore, dancing, singing, and shouting their rude welcome, offering ready gifts of fish and maize, in return for which they joyfully received beads and knives. As the early autumn dusk drew on bonfires blazed up, and they could see the savages performing their wild dances in token of rejoicing. In the early dawn of the third of October Cartier landed with his men, including the French nobles who accompanied him, in all the splendor of full dress and martial accoutrements. The early morning air was sharp and clear, the ground crisp with hoar-frost, the leaves fast turning to crimson and gold, and the falling acorns were strewn along their forest path. They were met on the way by an Indian chief—“ one of the principal lords of the said city," as the old story calls him-followed by a numerous train. They were received with the usual grave courtesy of the red man, and seated by a fire which had been kindled for their comfort. The chief made them a long address in his own language, and received, with much satisfaction, the gifts of hatchets, knives, and a crucifix which he was asked to kiss, in token of respect. Marching on a little further through the forest they came out on the cleared fields of yellow, rustling maize that encircled the Indian town, of which nothing could be seen, at first, but the protecting palisa les. These were three rows deep, after the fashion already |