“What for?” inquired Ben, soberly. “Were the gubernatorial honors too heavy for his shoulders? Perhaps he didn’t like the political methods of the Indians. I wish you’d explain it, Bob.”
“From that time, for a good while, the Jesuit missionaries kept coming over here, and the work they did was something marvellous. They went up the river and kept on out along the lakes, and even down other rivers. They dressed as the Indians did, and ate and lived with them, just to learn their ways and convince the red men that they were their friends. They were tortured sometimes, horribly, but they never flinched. They just kept right on, and you can well believe it wasn’t very long before their priests had a grip on the Indians which wasn’t very small. Every tribe of the Iroquois of New York had its own special missionary, and almost every nation out along the lakes and down the Mississippi had one too; and they made themselves of so much use, going with the men even into battle, that they’re not forgotten yet.
“Well, of course, where the missionaries went, there business went too; and it wasn’t long before fur-trading posts were established wherever the Jesuits were. Then, to protect the fur traders, and to keep the English from getting any of the business, soldiers had to be sent along; and so, as Quebec was the head centre of the whole affair, it wasn’t long before there was a regular business all along the St. Lawrence, long before any real settlements were made on its borders, or at least along the lakes.”
“I say, Bob,” interrupted Ben, “did you ever read any of Oliver Wendell Holmes’s books?”
“Yes, I’ve read the ‘Autocrat.’”
“Do you remember about that chap who could talk a lot on some subjects, and didn’t know anything about others?”
“You mean the one who’d read a volume or two in the cyclopædia, and not much besides?”
“Pre-e-cisely! Now I’ve found you out. You’ve been reading a volume of the cyclopædia, and are giving us its contents.”
“Which volume?” asked Bob.