Then they prepared to lay up a store of meat for
the winter's war-raids. Before ice forms a skim across the still
pools, nibbled chips betray where a beaver colony is at work; so the
hunters began setting beaver traps. One night as they were returning
to their wigwam, there came through the leafy darkness the weird sound
of a man singing. It was a solitary Algonquin captive, who called out
that he had been on the track of a bear since daybreak. He probably
belonged to some well-known Iroquois, for he was welcomed to the
camp-fire. The sight of a face from Three Rivers roused the
Algonquin's memories of his northern home. In the noise of the
crackling fire, he succeeded in telling Radisson, without being
overheard by the Iroquois, that he had been a captive for two years and
longed to escape.
"Do you love the French?" the Algonquin asked Radisson.
"Do you love the Algonquin?" returned Radisson, knowing they were
watched.
"As I do my own nation." Then leaning across to Radisson,
"Brother--white man!--Let us escape! The Three Rivers--it is not far
off! Will you live like a Huron in bondage, or have your liberty with
the French?" Then, lowering his voice, "Let us kill all three this
night when they are asleep!"
From such a way of escape, the French youth held back. The Algonquin
continued to urge him. By this time, Radisson must have heard from
returning Iroquois warriors that they had slain the governor of Three
Rivers, Duplessis-Kerbodot, and eleven other Frenchmen, among whom was
the husband of Radisson's eldest sister, Marguerite.
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