“Kindness by secret sympathy is tied,
For noble souls in nature are allied,”
they pushed on with renewed courage to encounter again the perils of the elements. The voyage from this point to the end of the lake was one continued series of hardships and dangers. They found it frequently a relief from the fury of the waves to drag their canoes over the rugged rocks; and as they pulled them ashore the heaving surf dashed the spray over their heads. They encountered a wandering party of Outagamies, or Fox Indians, near a green and refreshing spot, where they stopped to rest and refresh themselves, and it was only the address, deliberation, and iron courage of La Salle that prevented a bloody conflict with these treacherous savages. On the first of November the entire party came safely into the mouth of the Miami River, now S. Joseph's, previously appointed as the rendezvous, at which the several companies were to meet.
Here La Salle was sorely disappointed at not finding the Chevalier Tonty. Suffering from want of food and the increasing severity of the winter, the men began to murmur; but La Salle's bold spirit of command kept them in subjection, especially when they saw him sharing every hardship, privation, and danger with them. He kept them busy in building a fort for their protection from the savages, and in exploring the country and neighboring rivers. The missionaries caused a bark chapel to be erected, in which the divine service was attended by both Europeans and Indians. But La Salle's apprehensions for the fate of the Griffin began to increase. At length Tonty arrived, [pg 696] and, while he relieved his captain and men with provisions and reinforcements, he confirmed their alarm for the vessel. The Griffin had not reached Mackinac, no tidings could be obtained from the Indians of her safety or fate, and it became, alas! too certain that she, the first to ride triumphantly, with her proud sails spread and her streamers unfurled, across these great lakes, had been the first to fall a victim, with her hardy crew, to the avenging waves of Lake Michigan.
The cavalier now prepared to go down the Kankakee River to the Illinois. The distance to the portage was seventy miles, and much time and labor were spent in endeavoring to find the proper portage. La Salle started out himself to explore the country, and to discover, if possible, the eastern branch of the Illinois. Detained till evening in making the circuit of a large marsh, his gun, fired as a signal, was not answered, and he resolved to spend the night alone in that fearful wilderness. He fortunately descried a fire, and on approaching saw near by a bed of leaves, from which some nomadic son of the forest, startled at the report of the gun, had just fled. La Salle scattered leaves and branches around, in order that he might not be surprised in the night, and then took possession of the Indian's rustic bed, in which he slept peacefully till morning. To the great joy of his friends, he returned in the following afternoon, with two opossums hanging from his belt. At length the Indian hunter of the expedition found the portage. Leaving four men in the fort, the expedition set out on the 3d of December; the canoes and all the baggage were carried over five or six miles to the head-waters of the Kankakee, and about the 5th of December the company, consisting of thirty-three persons, commenced their passage down the dreary and marshy stream, rendered yet more gloomy by the rigors of mid-winter. At length, after enduring hunger and cold, they came to a more genial and smiling country, and soon their canoes glided into the river Illinois. On the banks of the river they discovered and visited the largest of the Illinois villages, composed of four or five hundred cabins, in each of which resided five or six families, not far below the present town of Ottawa, in La Salle County, Illinois. But the place was deserted; the inhabitants had all gone to the hunting-grounds for wild cattle and beaver, leaving their corn stored away in their granaries. Yielding to the necessities of his condition, and trusting to fortune for an opportunity to make ample compensation, La Salle appropriated fifty bushels of corn from the immense quantities stored away in the capacious granaries of the village. Re-embarking on the 27th of December, the party proceeded down the current. On the 1st of January, 1680, the feast of the Circumcision of Our Lord was solemnly and appropriately celebrated, the salutations of the New Year were exchanged, and we may well imagine with what hearty and earnest good-wishes those brave voyagers blessed each other. On the same day, after passing through Lake Pimiteony, now Lake Peoria, our voyagers came suddenly upon an Indian encampment on both sides of the river. Having heard that the Illinois were hostile, La Salle arranged his flotilla for the emergency; the men were armed, and the canoes were placed in battle array across the entire river, La Salle and Tonty occupying the two canoes nearest the shore. Observing that the Indians were somewhat alarmed and disposed to parley, La Salle boldly landed in the midst of the innumerable bands [pg 697] of dusky warriors, prepared for either war or peace, and by his skill and invincible courage soon succeeded in making them his friends. After smoking with them the calumet of peace, he explained the circumstance of his having taken their corn, and then paid them liberally for it, to their great satisfaction. He also told them that he came amongst them in order to give them a knowledge of the one true God, and to better their condition. An alliance of friendship was entered into, and all retired apparently to rest.
But during the night emissaries from La Salle's enemies arrived. A grand council was held, as that is the favorite time with the Indians for transacting their most important business. The poison was infused into the minds of La Salle's recent allies; and on the following morning his keen eye soon saw that the intrigues of his enemies had not failed to follow him to that distant region, and it was only his brave, frank, and determined bearing that enabled him to surmount the countless obstacles that were thus thrown in his way. The effect of this intrigue, however, was not wholly lost on his own men. Six of them deserted him at this trying juncture. Severe as was this loss, his proud spirit bore up manfully under it; but the loss of his vessel was a severer trial to him, but one that failed to dampen the ardor of his enthusiasm or the determination of his will. He selected a spot for a fort half a league from the Indian camp and near the present city of Peoria; and while he bestowed upon his fort the name of Crèvecœur—Broken Heart—under the sad influence of the loss of the Griffin and the machinations of his enemies, the vigor with which he raised its walls and arranged its armament is ample proof that he still possessed a heart full of courage and hope.
In the middle of January the entire company took up their residence within the fort. Father Membré remained with the Indians, was adopted into the family of a noted chief, and devoted himself to the task of winning the Illinois to the Christian faith. Father de La Ribourde exercised his ministry at the fort, where he erected a chapel; and Father Hennepin is said to have “rambled as his fancies moved him.”
La Salle engaged a portion of his men in building a brigantine forty-two feet long and twelve feet broad, in which to descend the Mississippi. On the 29th of February, 1680, he sent an expedition under the direction of Father Hennepin, accompanied by Picard Du Gay and Michel Ako, to explore for the first time the Mississippi above the mouth of the Wisconsin, the point from which Father Marquette's voyage down the great river commenced. In six weeks the hull of the brigantine was nearly ready to receive the masts and rigging, but the necessary materials were wanting to complete the equipment. An abundance of such materials had been placed on board the Griffin, but these had been buried beneath the waters of the lake with the ill-fated vessel. Gloomy indeed was the prospect before our brave cavalier; but bold resolves are rapidly conceived and speedily executed by daring spirits. He placed Tonty in command of the fort, and, in order to procure what was necessary for the new vessel, he determined to return on foot to Fort Frontenac, distant at least twelve hundred miles. His journey lay along the southern shores of Lakes Erie and Ontario, through vast forests; innumerable rivers intervened, which he had to ford or cross on rafts, and this, too, at a season of the year when the drifting snow and floating ice threw extraordinary dangers and [pg 698] fatigues in the path of the traveller. For food he must rely entirely upon the hazards of the chase. The history of our race contains the record of few such undertakings as this; yet the spirit of La Salle faltered not. On the 2d of March the bold cavalier shouldered his musket and knapsack, and, with three Frenchmen and his Indian hunter, started upon his perilous journey:
“My heart is firm;
There's naught within the compass of humanity