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"O mother of Christ, have pity!" shrieked the

women in despair;

"This is no time for praying," cried the young

Madeleine Vercheres;

"Aux armes! aux armes! les Iroquois! quick

to your arms and guns,

Fight for your God and country, and the lives

of the innocent ones."

 

And she sped like a deer of the mountain, when

beagles press close behind,

And the feet that would follow after must be

swift as the prairie wind.

Alas! for the men and women and little ones

that day,

For the road it was long and weary, and the

fort it was far away.

 

But the fawn had outstripped the hunters, and

the palisades drew near,

And soon from the inner gateway the war-bugle

rang out clear,

Gallant and clear it sounded, with never a note

of despair--

'T was a soldier of France's challenge, from

the young Madeleine Vercheres!

 

"And this is my little garrison, my brothers

Louis and Paul?

With soldiers two, and a cripple? may the

Virgin pray for us all!

But we 've powder and guns in plenty, and

we 'll fight to the latest breath,

And if need be, for God and country, die a

brave soldier's death.

 

"Load all the carabines quickly, and whenever

you sight the foe

Fire from the upper turret and loopholes down below,

Keep up the fire, brave soldiers, though the

fight may be fierce and long,

And they 'll think our little garrison is more

than a