Those mighty cliffs would almost make other defenses
needless. Yet the heights were occupied by nothing more than a wooden
village, which the interpreters called Stadacona, saying that their
chief, Daghnacona, was its ruler. Shouts arose from the water's edge as
some one among the excited Indians recognized on the deck of a great
winged canoe their own lost countrymen. The interpreters answered with
joyous whoops. A dozen canoes came paddling out, filled with young
warriors, and a rapid interchange of guttural Indian talk went on
between Pierre and Kadoc and their kinfolk. The enthusiasm rose to a
still higher pitch when strings of beads of all colors were handed down
to the Indians in the canoes, and presently Daghnacona himself appeared
to welcome the white men to his country, with dignified Indian eloquence
and an escort of twelve canoes. This was clearly a good place to stop
and refit the ships. Cartier took his fleet into a little river not far
away, and prepared to learn all he could of the country before going on.
The information he got from Daghnacona was not encouraging. This was
not, it appeared, the chief town of the country. That was many miles up
the river, and was called Hochelaga. It would not be safe for the white
men to go there. Their ships might be caught between ice-floes, and the
falling snow would blind and bewilder them.
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