IROQUOIS PRISONERS. -- PISKARET: HIS EXPLOITS. -- MORE PRISONERS. -- IROQUOIS EMBASSY. -- THE ORATOR. -- THE GREAT COUNCIL. -- SPEECHES OF KIOTSATON. -- MUSTER OF SAVAGES. -- PEACE CONFIRMED.
IN the damp and freshness of a midsummer morning, when the sun had not yet risen, but when the river and the sky were red with the glory of approaching day, the inmates of the fort at Three Rivers were roused by a tumult of joyous and exultant voices. They thronged to the shore, -- priests, soldiers, traders, and officers, mingled with warriors and shrill-voiced squaws from Huron and Algonquin camps in the neighboring forest. Close at hand they saw twelve or fifteen canoes slowly drifting down the current of the St. Lawrence, manned by eighty young Indians, all singing their songs of victory, and striking their paddles against the edges of their bark vessels in cadence with their voices. Among them three Iroquois prisoners stood upright, singing loud and defiantly, as men not fearing torture or death.