Iberville, whose face had become grave, went to De Casson and whispered to him.

The abbe gave him his blessing, and then he turned and went back.

He waved his hand to his brothers and his friends,--a gay Cavalier-like motion,--then took off all save his small clothes and stood out.
Never was seen, perhaps, a stranger sight: a gentleman of France ranged against a savage wrestler, without weapons, stripped to the waist, to fight like a gladiator.

But this was a new land, and Iberville could ever do what another of his name or rank could not.

There was only one other man in Canada who could do the same--old Count Frontenac himself, who, dressed in all his Court finery, had danced a war-dance in the torch-light with Iroquois chiefs.
Stripped, Iberville's splendid proportions could be seen at advantage.
He was not massively made, but from crown to heel there was perfect muscular proportion.