counting the leagues back to Kaskaskia. Now:--

"C'etait un vieux sauvage
Tout noir, tour barbouilla,
Ouich' ka!
Avec sa vieill' couverte
Et son sac a tabac.
Ouich' ka!
Ah! ah! tenaouich' tenaga,
Tenaouich' tenaga,
Ouich' ka!"

So sang Antoine, dit le Gris, in the pulsing red light. And when,
between the verses, he went through the agonies of a Huron war-dance, the
assembled regiment howled with delight. Some men know cities and those
who dwell in the quarters of cities. But grizzled Antoine knew the half
of a continent, and the manners of trading and killing of the tribes
thereof.

And after Antoine came Gabriel, a marked contrast--Gabriel, five feet
six, and the glare showing but a faint dark line on his quivering lip.
Gabriel was a patriot,--a tribute we must pay to all of those brave
Frenchmen who went with us. Nay, Gabriel had left at home on his little
farm near the village a young wife of a fortnight. And so his lip
quivered as he sang:--

"Petit Rocher de la Haute Montagne,
Je vien finir ici cette campagne!
Ah! doux echos, entendez mes soupirs;
En languissant je vais bientot mouir!"