Explorers and Travellers. A. W. Greely
across it, the Miamis then returned, leaving the explorers “alone in an unknown country, in the hands of Providence.”
Before launching their canoes into strange waters, which were to bear them into unknown lands, they knelt on the bank and offered up devout aspirations to God for continued success. The new river was the Weskousing (Wisconsin), whose broad shallows and sandy bottom, while rendering navigation slow and very laborious, yet contrasted delightfully with the rocky rapids of the Fox.
Father Marquette sets forth delightfully the ideal voyage down this stream, past vine-clad islets, along sloping banks, now bordered by the lovely prairie, with its sweet odors of fresh grasses and blooming flowers, and anon fringed by the primeval forest, beautiful with its tangle of shrubbery and in its June foliage. The gnarled oak, the straight walnut, the elegant whitewood, and other stately trees of unknown species met their vision at times, while again their eyes scarcely separated from the heavens the distant horizon of the green level plains, whose luxuriant vegetation afforded the richest pasturage for numerous herds of deer and moose, and in spots showed the fertility of its alluvial soil by the fields of Indian corn.
Each morning, before they relaunched their canoes, they attuned their voices to the praise of God, and, in their unique joy of successful discovery, must have felt on those delightful June days that their devotions had not been uplifted in vain. From sunrise to sunset they labored unceasingly, now paddling briskly along the deep reaches, and then struggling stoutly through mazes of shallows and sand-bars, where tedious and frequent portages were patiently made.
Each evening their hearts rejoiced and their tired limbs found delightful repose at some spot where Joliet’s judgment directed the canoes to be drawn out, inspected, and upturned by some, while others started the camp-fire and prepared the evening meal. This camp was always so placed that the approach of an enemy could be seen from afar, and where fuel for fire and branches for bedding were at hand. The best hunter was told off for game, and rarely did the meal lack fresh meat or fruit and berries in season. After supper the soothing pipe, prayers and songs of praise, and then under the over-arching trees such sound slumber as only comes to men sleeping under the open sky.
As they advanced it was often possible to use sail and relieve the men to some extent from the fatigue of the paddle, and such rapid progress was made that, on June 17th, they safely entered the long-desired Mississippi, “with a joy,” writes Marquette, “which I cannot express.” They were then in latitude 43° 03´ N., opposite the site of the present city of Prairie du Chien.
Turning eagerly southward, their progress facilitated by the gentle current of the Mississippi, they journeyed more than a hundred leagues without seeing on the land aught save birds and beasts. The solitude of the great river appalled them: a vast torrent of rolling water, bordered by forest and plain, so well fitted for the happiness of man, and yet no human being in all this land! What could it mean, and what would be the outcome? Joliet, of long experience with savage tribes, and astute in forest craft, distrusted the silence and solitude, and kept as keen guard as though on the war-path. A tiny camp-fire was built only for meals, and the nights were passed in the crowded canoes as far from shore as it was possible to anchor them in the deep river. Even then strict watch was kept, and every strange or unusual noise excited feelings of trepidation lest a hidden foe be the cause.
Their journey by day was not entirely devoid of incident and excitement, says Marquette. “From time to time we met monstrous fishes, one of which struck the canoe so violently I took it for a large tree. Another time we perceived on the water a monster [probably an American tiger-cat] with a head like a tiger and a pointed snout like the wild-cat, with beard and ears erect, a grayish head, and entirely black neck.” They cast their nets successfully, and once caught a spade-fish, whose appearance caused much astonishment. In 41° 28´ N. latitude (near Rock Island), wild turkeys took the place of wild fowl; while as to animals, only buffalo were seen, being so numerous and fearless as to be easily killed, and thus offering a welcome change of food. These new beasts presented themselves to our explorers as hideous, especially those with thick, long manes falling over their eyes in such tangles as to prevent their seeing clearly. Marquette records that the Indians tan buffalo-skins into beautiful robes, which they paint into various colors; and further recites the ferocity of the buffalo as yearly causing the death of some Indian. When near the present city of Keokuk, at the mouth of the Des Moines River, on June 25th, they perceived the first signs of man in all this solitude: foot-prints by the riverside, and then a beaten path, which, entering a beautiful prairie, impressed them as leading to some Indian village.
They had journeyed seventeen days without seeing the face of man, and so, after deliberation, they resolved to visit the village; this decision doubtless being urged by Marquette, who for years had sought by prayer “to obtain of God the grace to be able to visit the nations on the river Mississippi,” and who now would allow no danger to deter him. Joliet was fully aware of the great risk, and took most careful precautions to ensure the safety of their canoes and people by charging them strictly to beware of surprise, while he and Marquette ventured to put themselves at the discretion of an unknown savage people. Cautiously following the little path in silence across the beautiful prairie and through the thickets for a distance of two leagues, they suddenly came in view of an Indian village, picturesquely placed on a river bank, and overlooked by two others on a neighboring hill; they pressed on with successful caution and silence, but with much doubt and fear. Having, as Marquette says, “recommended ourselves to God with all our hearts,” and “having implored his help, we passed on undiscovered, and came so near we even heard the Indians talking.” Stepping into the open, they halted and announced themselves by a loud cry; at which the Indians rushed out of their cabins, and recognizing them as French, and seeing a “Blackgown” (the well-known Indian name for a Jesuit), sent four of their chief warriors forward. Two chiefs, carrying calumets, or tobacco-pipes, elaborately trimmed with various feathers, advanced very slowly and in silence, lifting their calumets as if offering them for the sun to smoke. Marquette, encouraged by their friendly attitude, and still more on seeing that they wore French cloth, broke the silence; to which the Indians answered that they were Illinois, who, in token of peace, presented their pipes to smoke and invited the strangers to their village.
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| The Reception of Joliet and Marquette by the Illinois. |
Joliet and Marquette were received at the door of a wigwam, as was usual for strangers, by an old chief, who stood perfectly naked, with outstretched hands raised toward the sun, as if to screen himself from its rays, which nevertheless passed through the open fingers to his face. As they came near him, he said: “How beautiful is the sun, O Frenchmen, when thou comest to visit us. All our town awaits thee, and thou shalt enter all our cabins in peace.” After smoking the calumet, they went by invitation to visit the Great Sachem of all Illinois, at a near village. With good nature and childish curiosity, a throng of Indians went along, and says Marquette, “could not tire looking at us; they threw themselves on the grass by the wayside; they ran ahead, then turned and walked back to see us again, all in silence, with marks of great respect.” They were received by the Great Sachem and two old chiefs, all naked and with their calumet turned to the sun. After smoking the calumet, Marquette, speaking in Algonquin, said that they marched in peace to visit the nations on the river to the sea; that God their Creator had pity, and had sent his messenger to make him known as their Creator, whom they should acknowledge and obey; that Frontenac had spread peace everywhere; and last asked for all the information they had of the sea and the nations between them and it.
The Sachem answered in a beautiful speech worthy of the occasion:
“I thank thee, Blackgown, and thee, Frenchman,” addressing M. Joliet, “for taking so much pains to come and visit us; never has the earth been so beautiful, nor the sun so bright, as to-day; never has our river been so calm, nor so free from rocks, which your canoes have removed as they passed; never has our tobacco had so fine a flavor, nor our corn appeared so beautiful as we behold it to day. Here is my son, that I give thee, that thou mayst know my heart. I pray thee to take pity on me and all my nation. Thou