It was a passing wish. The Iroquois would remain faithful to their
ancient allies, the English. The blood that Frontenac had shed would be
forever a barrier between the Long House and the Stadacona that was.
Once more Quebec filled his eye, and he gazed into the northeast where
the French capital lay upon its mighty and frowning rock. His curiosity
concerning it increased. He wanted to see what kind of city it was, and
he wanted to see what kind of a man the Marquis Duquesne, the
Governor-General of Canada, was. Well, he would be there before many
days and he would see for himself. He and his comrades already had been
triumphant over a danger so great that nothing could stop them now. He
felt all the elation and certainty that came from a victory over odds.
He rose, parted the bushes and made another tour of the region about
their covert. When he was at a point about a hundred yards away he
fancied that he heard a sound in a thicket a considerable distance
ahead. Promptly taking shelter behind a large tree, he used both eyes
and ears, watching the thicket closely, and listening for any other
sound that might come.
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