Law raised his head with the old-time determination. "My friends," said he, "we have elected to come into this country and take its conditions as we find them. If we falter, we lose; of that we may rest assured. Let us not turn back because a few savages have been here and have slaughtered a few other savages. For me, there seems but one opinion possible. The lightning has struck, yet it may not strike again at the same tree. The Iroquois have been here, but they have departed, and they have left nothing to invite their return. Now, it is necessary that we make a pause and build some place for our abode. Here is a post already half builded to our hands." "But if the savages return?" said Du Mesne. "Then we will fight," said John Law. "And right you are," replied Du Mesne. "Your reasoning is correct. I vote that we build here our station." "Myself also," said Tête Gris. And Pierre Noir nodded his assent in silence. CHAPTER VI MAIZE "Ola! Jean Breboeuf," called out Du Mesne to that worthy, who presently appeared, breathing hard from his climb up the river bluff. "Know you what has been concluded?" "No; how should I guess?" replied Jean Breboeuf. "Or, at least, if I should guess, what else should I guess save that we are to take boat at once and set back to Montréal as fast as we may? But that--what is this? Whose house is that yonder?" "'Tis our own, _mon enfant_," replied Du Mesne, dryly. "'Twas perhaps the property of the Iroquois a moon ago. A moon before that time the soil it stands on belonged to the Illini. To-day both house and soil belong to us. See; here stood the village. There are the cornfields, cut and trampled by the Iroquois. Here are the kettles of the natives--" "But, but--why--what is all this? Why do we not hasten away?" broke in Jean Breboeuf. "Pish! We do not go away. We remain where we are." "Remain? Stay here, and be eaten by the Iroquois? Nay! not Jean Breboeuf." Du Mesne smiled broadly at his terrors, and a dry grin even broke over the features of the impassive old trapper, Tête Gris. "Not so fast with your going away, Jean, my brother," said Du Mesne. "Thou'rt ever hinting of corn and the bean; now see what can be done in this garden-place of the Iroquois and the Illini. You are appointed head gardener for the post!" "Messieurs, _me voilà_," said Jean Breboeuf, dropping his hands in despair. "Were I not the bravest man in all New France I should leave you at this moment. It is mad, quite mad you are, every one of you! I, Jean Breboeuf, will remain, and, if necessary, will protect. Corn, and perhaps the bean, ye shall have; perhaps even some of those little roots that the savages dig and eat; but, look you, this is but because you are with one who is brave. _Enfin_, I go. I bend me to the hoe, here in this place, like any peasant."