But at last these also rose in revolt, and, when all supplies had been cut off, the hopeless remnant of defenders fell back down the broad river, bearing with them much of their most valued treasure, never permitting the sacred flame, which was the gift of the Sun, to die out upon their altars.

Like flies they died in the preservation of this symbol of their religion; for 'tis their faith, that if it be kept burning undimmed, there will yet come to them a great leader from the Sun to restore their lost glories.

She described to me the arts of that past, the many beautiful things the race had made, those wondrous cities protected by high walls, the vast mounds of earth moulded into strange figures of extinct animals, uplifted as altars, and sometimes utilized for the burial of their dead and their treasure.

_Sacre_! I can recall a portion of the story, yet it was a weird, fascinating tale as she told it slowly, and with all seriousness, although the black boy stammered so badly in his words I got only dim pictures here and there." "But how came they here ?" I questioned.
"I was coming to that.

It was some trouble with the French in Bienville's day.