Doubtless this ceremony of the calumet—with the dancing and singing, the recounting of brave deeds, and the giving of gifts—seemed a very curious performance to the French. But equally curious to the Indians must have seemed the ceremonies of the white men on that selfsame day.
La Salle asked permission of the chiefs to raise, in the village, an emblem of the God of the French and of the great King of France. To this the Indians readily agreed. Whereupon Tonty was dispatched with some of the men to make preparations. They cut and smoothed a huge wooden pillar, and upon it they drew a cross, and above the cross they carved the arms of France with these words:—
“Louis the Great, King of France and Navarre,
reigns this thirteenth day of March, 1682.”
A procession was formed, and the pillar was carried in state to the open space in the midst of the Indian town. Here the procession divided into two columns, with La Salle at the head of one and Tonty leading the other. Every Frenchman was in arms, while the New England Indians with their wives and children steadfastly followed their white leaders.
Father Membré began to sing a curious song; and then the whole procession took up the chant and marched three times around the open square. Three times they sent up a great cry, “Vive le Roi,” and discharged their guns in the air. Then they planted the pillar firmly in the ground, cried again, “Vive le Roi,” and shot off another volley with their guns.
When it was quiet once more La Salle began a solemn speech in French. The awe-stricken Indians did not understand his words; but later the speech was interpreted for them and they knew that, by the sign of the cross and the king’s arms, the white chief was claiming the whole broad valley for his king beyond the seas. What mattered it to the Indians? If the white men would bring them gifts, and if this mysterious pillar would protect them from harm and safeguard them from their enemies, the distant king was welcome to his claim.
With wondering faces the Indians gathered about the pillar when the strange ceremony was over. They placed their hands upon the hewed wood and then rubbed their naked bodies—as if to transfer to themselves some of the medicine in the white men’s shaft.
Two days later the strangers embarked in their canoes and left the village of the Kappas; and with them went two Arkansas guides to point out the way to their allies, the Taensas, who lived on a lake near the river many leagues below.