They were a northern tribe that had never before seen the white man.

Tall and stern, they were stout enemies, but they had no firearms, and, as could be seen, they were astonished at the look of the little band, which, at the command of De Troyes, who with Iberville was in the first boat, came steadily on.

Suddenly brought face to face there was a pause, in which Iberville, who knew several Indian languages, called to them to make way.
He was not understood, but he had pointed to the white standard of France flaring with the golden lilies; and perhaps the drawn swords and the martial manner of the little band--who had donned gay trappings, it being Iberville's birthday--conveyed in some way his meaning.

The bows of the strangers stayed drawn, awaiting word from the leader.

Near the chief stood a man seven feet in height, a kind of bodyguard, who presently said something in his ear.