They were surprised and disappointed to see no one about except a few
curious Indians peeping from the woods.
As they neared the wooden gateway it was suddenly flung open, and out
marched a procession of masquers, headed by Neptune in full costume of
shell-fringed robe, diadem, trident, and garlands of kelp and sea-moss,
attended by tritons grotesquely attired, and fauns, reinforced by a
growing audience of Indians, squaws and papooses. This merry company
greeted the wanderers with music, song and some excellent French verse
written by Lescarbot for the occasion. Refreshed with laughter and the
relief of finding all so well conducted, Champlain, Poutrincourt and
their men went in to have something to eat and drink. Then they spent
the rest of the day hearing and telling the story of the last three
months.
It is written down, adorned with drawings, in the journals of Champlain,
and it was all told over as the men sat around their blazing fires and
talked, all together, while a light November snow flurried in the air
outside.
"So you see we lost our rudder in a storm off Mount Desert--" "And the
autumn gales drove us back before we had fairly passed Port Fortune--"
"It came near being Port Malheur for us, and it was for Pierre and
Jacques le Malouin, poor fellows.
Pages:
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318