Two or three days passed very peacefully, and it seemed they had only come to that beautiful place for quiet and enjoyment; but one evening, just as the dusk was creeping over the lake, they saw the dark faces of the Iroquois looking down at them from the leafy heights above. The Canadian Indians gave a shrill cry at the sight, and all that night the two tribes shrieked defiance at one another, and waited impatiently for the sunrise, which was to be the signal for the battle to begin. At break of day the Iroquois stood ready for battle, awaiting the attack of the Canadians, who all this time had kept Champlain and his friends hidden from the sight of their enemies. Now they formed in ranks, still keeping their white friends concealed, and marched slowly toward the Iroquois, who were eager for the fight. But before a single arrow was shot the ranks of the Canadians opened, and Champlain came coolly to the front and fired his gun. The Iroquois were terrified, having never before seen such a weapon, and when they saw that two of their number were wounded, they became still more afraid; and thinking that Champlain was a god, and held a magic instrument in his hand against which it would be useless to fight, they turned and fled into the woods, pursued by the Canadians, who were delighted at the success of their trick, and shrieked out their joy over their easy victory. But the Iroquois went on, not heeding their enemies' triumphant cries, and did not consider themselves safe until they reached their own peaceful valleys, hidden away among the Adirondacks; and years and years after that the children of the tribe, as they gathered the water-lilies from the beautiful mountain lakes, or wandered among the woods plucking dainty flowers and waxen Indian pipes, would tell with wonder and awe the story of the great white god and his magic weapon, and how by his aid the brave Iroquois, always before victorious in battle, had been defeated on the shores of that distant lake which lay beyond the slopes of their snow-capped mountains. But the Canadians went home rejoicing, and Champlain went back to Quebec, and told of his discovery, and placed the new lake on his maps with much pride, and wrote in his journal an account of his journey thither, which, when the French people at home read it, pleased them so much that they were more determined than ever that the whole of that beautiful region should belong to France, and to no other country. And Champlain lived in honor at Quebec until his death, in 1635; but his name will never be forgotten, for it is heard year after year, and echoed again and again, among the trees that fringe the shores, and the mountains that overlook the beautiful lake that he discovered.