The discontents among his own followers proved far more dangerous to La Salle than the caprice or hostility of the savages. They murmured at being led into unknown regions, among barbarous tribes, to gratify the ambition of an adventurer, and determined to destroy him and return to France. They were base enough to tell the natives that La Salle was a spy of the Iroquois, their ancient enemies, and it required all his genius and courage to remove this idea from the minds of the ignorant savages. Failing in this scheme, they endeavored to poison him and all his faithful adherents at a Christmas dinner; by the use of timely remedies, however, the intended victims recovered, and the villains, having fled, were in vain pursued over the trackless deserts.
La Salle was obliged to return to the forts for aid, on account of the desertion of so many of his followers; but he sent Father Hennepin, with Dacan and three other Frenchmen, to explore the sources of the Mississippi, and left Tonti in the command of a small fort, erected on the Illinois, which he, however, was soon obliged to desert, in consequence of the hostility of the Iroquois. La Salle collected twenty men, with the necessary arms and provisions, and, unshaken by accumulated disasters, determined at once to make his way to the Gulf of Mexico down the course of the Mississippi. He passed the entrance of the swollen and muddy Missouri, and the beautiful Ohio, and, still descending, traversed countries where dwelt the numerous and friendly Chickasaw and Arkansaw Indians. Next he came to the Taencas, a people far advanced beyond their savage neighbors in civilization, and obeying an absolute prince. Farther on, the Natchez received him with hospitality; but the Quinipissas, who inhabited the shores more to the south, assailed him with showers of arrows. He wisely pursued his important journey without seeking to avenge the insult. Tangibao, still lower down the stream, had just been desolated by one of the terrible irruptions of savage war: the bodies of the dead lay piled in heaps among the ruins of their former habitations. For leagues beyond, the channel began to widen, and at length became so vast that one shore was no longer visible from the other. The water was now brackish, and beautiful sea-shells were seen strewn along the shore. They had reached the mouth of the Mississippi, the Father of Rivers.
La Salle celebrated the successful end of his adventurous voyage with great rejoicings. Te Deum was sung, a cross was suspended from the top of a lofty tree, and a shield, bearing the arms of France, was erected close at hand. They attempted to determine the latitude by an observation of the sun, but the result was altogether erroneous.
The country immediately around the outlet of this vast stream was desolate and uninteresting. Far as the eye could teach, swampy flats and inundated morasses filled the dreary prospect. Under the ardent rays of the tropical sun, noisome vapors exhaled from the rank soil and sluggish waters, poisoning the breezes from the southern seas, and corrupting them into the breath of pestilence. Masses of floating trees, whose large branches were scathed by months of alternate immersion and exposure, during hundreds of leagues of travel, choked up many of the numerous outlets of the river, and, cemented together by the alluvial deposits of the muddy stream, gradually became fixed and solid, throwing up a rank vegetation.[397] Above this dreary delta, however, the country was rich and beautiful, and graceful undulations succeeded to the monotonous level of the lower banks.
After a brief repose, La Salle proceeded to re-ascend the river toward Canada, eager to carry the important tidings of his success to France. His journey was beset with difficulties and dangers. The course of the stream, though not rapid, perpetually impeded his progress. Provisions began to fail, and dire necessity drove him to perilous measures for obtaining supplies. Having met with four women of the hostile tribe of the Quinipissas, he treated them with great kindness, loading them with such gifts as might most win their favor. The chief of the savages then came forward and invited the French to his village, offering them the much-needed refreshments which they sought. But a cruel treachery lurked under this friendly seeming, and the adventurers were only saved from destruction by the careful vigilance of their leader. At daybreak the following morning, the Indians made a sudden attack upon their guests; the French, however, being thoroughly on the alert, repulsed the assailants, and slew several of the bravest warriors. Infuriated by the treachery of the savages, the victors followed the customs of Indian warfare, and scalped those of the enemy who fell into their power.
As they ascended the river they were again endangered by the secret hostility of the Natchez,[398] from the effects of which a constant front of preparation alone preserved them. After several months of unceasing toil and watchfulness, with many strange and romantic adventures, but no other serious obstruction, the hardy travelers at length joyfully beheld the headland of Quebec.
Immediately after his arrival, La Salle hastened to France to announce his great discovery,[399] and reap the distinction justly due to his eminent merits. [1682.] He was received with every honor, and all his plans and suggestions were approved by the court. Under his direction and command, an expedition was fitted out, consisting of four vessels and 280 men, for the purpose of forming a settlement at the mouth of the Mississippi, and thence establishing a regular communication with Canada, along the course of the Great River. At the same time, he received the commission of governor over the whole of the vast country extending between the lakes and the Gulf of Mexico. The little squadron sailed from La Rochelle on the 24th of July, 1684, along with the West India fleet, and having touched at St. Domingo and Cuba by the way, arrived in safety on the coast of Florida.
La Salle was involved in great perplexity by ignorance of the longitude of the river's mouth. Not having descended so far in his former expedition as to be able to judge of its appearance from the sea, he passed the main entrance of the Mississippi unawares, and proceeded 200 miles to the westward, where he found himself in a bay, since called St. Bernard's. Attracted by the favorable appearance of the surrounding country, La Salle here founded the fort which was to be the basis of his future establishment. But difficulties and misfortunes crowded upon him; the vessel containing his stores and utensils was sunk through the negligence or treachery of her commander, and a great portion of the cargo lost or seized by the Indians. The violent measures he adopted to compel restitution of the plundered goods kindled a deep resentment in the minds of this fierce and haughty tribe, the Clamcoets by name. They made a sudden midnight attack upon the settlement, slew two of the French, and wounded several, and whenever opportunity offered afterward, repeated their assaults. The tropical climate, however, proved a far deadlier foe than even the savage, and at length the spirit of the colonists gave way under accumulated difficulties.
Meanwhile Tonti, who had descended the Mississippi to join La Salle, sought him in vain at the mouth of the river, and along the coast for twenty leagues at either side. Having found no trace or tidings of the expedition, he relinquished the search in despair, and sailed upward again to the Canadian Lakes.
La Salle bore up with noble courage and energy against the difficulties that surrounded him. His subordinates thwarted him on every occasion, and at length broke out into a violent mutiny, which he, however, vigorously suppressed. But when he discovered that the settlement founded and sustained by his unceasing labors was not, as he had fondly supposed, at the mouth of the Great River, he experienced the bitterest disappointment. The surrounding country, though fertile, offered no brilliant prospect of sudden wealth or hopes of future commerce. He determined, therefore, once again to explore the vast streams of the Mississippi and Illinois, and to endeavor to gain a greater knowledge of the interior of the continent. He took with him on this expedition his nephew, a worthy but impetuous youth, named Moranger, and about twenty men. This young man's haughty spirit excited a savage thirst of vengeance in the minds of his uncle's lawless followers; they watched their opportunity, and in a remote and dreary solitude in the depths of the new continent, La Salle and Moranger were both slain by their murderous hands. Thus sadly perished, in a nameless wilderness, one of the most daring and gifted among those wonderful men to whom the discovery of the New World had opened a field of glory. His temper was, doubtless, at times, violent and overbearing,[400] but he was dearly loved by his friends, respected by his dependents, and fondly revered by those among the Indians who came within his influence. His greatest difficulties arose from those who were placed under his command, abandoned and ungovernable men, the very refuse of society, and amenable to no laws, human or divine.