Oregon Historical Quarterly/Volume 26/The Verendrye Expeditions in Quest of the Pacific
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THE QUARTERLY
of the
Oregon Historical Society
Copyright, 1923, by the Oregon Historical Society
The Quarterly disavows responsibility for the positions taken by contributors to its pages.
THE VERENDRYE EXPEDITIONS IN QUEST OF THE PACIFIC
By Grace Flandreau
We commonly consider the northwestern part of the United States a new country, still only partially settled and offering exceptional opportunity by reason of its newness. So it is, in the sense of modern agriculture and industrial pursuit, but prior to its occupancy by farming and manufacturing communities, much of this country had witnessed the passage of a complete era of gripping human experience extending over more than a hundred years of time. This was the era of the explorer, missionary, and fur trader.
A variety of motives was behind those early adventures. The fearless leaders who braved the unknown wildernesses were true discoverers, from whom the mystery of what lay beyond the frontier held an irresistible charm. The ever present danger from treacherous, lurking savages, the constant struggle against torrential streams and over rough, untrodden trails, and the daily battle for food held no terrors to daunt them. They were content to Venture forth, matching their skill and cunning against the elements, the wild animals, and the Indians with whom they had to contend for their very lives. But they could not venture far without a supply of goods for barter and necessary equipment,, clothing, and firearms for the party. The financial means for supplying these needs came from two principal sources: one was the merchant class of the eastern seaboard and Europe; the other was the church. There was some government aid too, mostly by way of trading privileges in the country to be opened up. But whether backed by private capital, church, or state, the adventurous fur traders and missionaries, who struggled side by side, were explorers and discoverers primarily, and upon their explorations and discoveries rests their fame, rather than upon trade or spiritual conquest.
First the French, and later the English traders penetrated the trackless wilderness of what is now Northwestern United States—the country west of the Great Lakes. To compensate for the expense and hazard of the commercial expeditions, there must be promise of large profits and quick returns, hence trade must be in articles of high value, and to make the venture possible at all, the goods to be transported must be light and manageable. Beaver, mink, fox, ermine, and other furs met these requirements. The abundance of supply along the countless lakes and streams, and the eagerness of the Indians for trinkets, beads, bright colored cloths and blankets, knives, guns, and other manufactured articles, not to mention whiskey, for which an Indian would barter all he had or ever hoped to have, made the skins procurable at little cost.
As early as 1659, Radisson and Groseillers were along the upper Mississippi and some of its tributaries, speculating on the possibilities of the fur trade in the great region to the west of Lake Superior and Lake Michigan. As a result of their investigations in this region, as well as the country north of the Great Lakes and around Hudson's Bay, they carried to France, and then to England, a most enthusiastic account of the profits to be made. Through the influence of Prince Rupert, they finally succeeded in having two ships, the Eaglet and the Nonsuch, fitted out in 1668 to make a trial trip from England to Hudson's Bay. Although the Eaglet was disabled in a storm and had to turn back, the cargo of the Nonsuch was so valuable and profitable that King Charles II, in 1670, issued a charter to the "Governor and Company of Adventurers of England trading into Hudson's Bay," the first Governor being Prince Rupert. The Hudson's Bay Company is still in existence and often is referred to as being the oldest company in the world.[1]
Jean Nicolet had been exploring the Western shores of the Great Lakes twenty years before Radisson and Groseillers, but they were the first to push westerly as far as the Mississippi Valley. Following them shortly came Du Luth, Joliet, Le Seur and others lesser known, but perhaps as brave as they. Along with these earliest traders, and sometimes preceding them, there came also those equally fearless spirits, Allouez, Hennepin, Marquette, and the rest, devoting their lives unselfishly to carrying the Christian faith to the Indians.
Travel in those early days was by canoe and trail, following watercourses almost entirely. It had not yet reached the prairies to any great extent. Portages or "carrys" were necessary around the steepest rapids and from the headwaters of one stream across the "height of land" to the headwaters of another. In this way canoe trips had been made up the St. Lawrence and the Hudson, and across the Great Lakes, or by the Ottawa River. It was known also, before the year 1700, that a feasible route existed westward from Lake Superior via the Kaministiquia River at least as far as Rainy Lake. Indeed as early as 1689, a trading post had been established at the mouth of the Kaministiqua by Du Luth. But by the end of the century incessant warfare among the Indians, and the ruinous effect upon authorized trade, of the illicit traffic in furs carried on by the coureurs de bois, caused this and other remote western posts to be abandoned.
It must not be forgotten that New France was at all times subject to the tyrannical domination of the French court and affairs in the colony fluctuated according to changing circumstances in Europe. France now became involved in the War of the Spanish Succession and her remote overseas empire underwent a period of complete neglect.
But with the termination of this war and the death of the brilliant but frustrated French king, an important change took place. At the court of the Regent who succeeded Louis XIV, the significance of this wide, savage, little known dependency was again recognized; especially the discovery of an overland route to the Pacific assumed acute importance in the eyes of the statesmen of Versailles.
In 1715, a plan was presented to the Regent for the accomplishment of this great purpose. Du Luth's post at the mouth of the Kaministiquia was to be re-opened, and two other posts, one on the Lake of the Christineaux (Crees)—now Lake of the Woods—and another on Lake Winnipeg, were to be established. Fur monopolies were to reward the men who built and maintained the posts, but a considerable sum of money was to be provided from the royal treasury for the actual expeditions which were to set out from these bases in search of the Western Sea.
This plan was only partially carried out. The Kaministiquia post was re-built by a Canadian officer, the Lieutenant de la Noue, in 1717, and a few years later the Jesuit traveler and historian Charlevoix was sent down the Great Lakes and the Mississippi to seek all possible information as to overland routes to the Pacific.
We are not concerned here with the interesting reports and recommendations made by Charlevoix. though partially carried out, the resultant activities did not promote the western exploration. It often seems as if important achievements wait for the men especially fitted—one might almost say inspired or destined to bring them about. At any rate, no progress toward the discovery was made until a Canadian officer, the Sieur de la Verendrye, took up the quest with an ardent enthusiasm which was to endure for many years and meet without flagging many heart breaking difficulties.
Unlike most explorers of those early days who came from France and England seeking adventure in the New World, the Verendryes, father and sons, were natives of North America. About seventy miles above Quebec, the St. Maurice River flows into the St. Lawrence from the north. Near its mouth there are two islands which divide it into three channels. Here, in 1617, a post had been established and aptly called Three Rivers, and here in 1685, Pierre Gaultier de Varennes, Sieur de la Verendrye, was born. His mother was the daughter of Pierre Boucher, Governor of Three Rivers, and his father was Rene Gaultier de la Verennes, who succeeded to that office in 1688.
La Verendrye became a soldier when very young, having entered the army as a cadet at the age of twelve. He was engaged with the French colonial troops in frontier warfare against the Indians and the English colonists, but this command was transferred to France, and we find him, in 1707*, fighting in Flanders. There he remained until 1711, a French soldier in the war of the Spanish Succession. That he saw desperate service is evidenced by the fact that he was so severely wounded as to be left for dead on the victorious battle field of Malplaquet. He married Marie-Anne Dandonneau at Three Rivers in 1712 and lived near there until 1726. During this time he engaged in trading along the St. Maurice River, and had charge, a part of the time, of the post of La Gabelle. From 1726 until 1731 he was in charge of a post on Lake Nipigon north of Lake Superior. Many Indians from the far west came to this post to trade. Their accounts of the vast country beyond, the river flowing westward into a great lake of bad tasting water (the Pacific, or Great Salt Lake), fired him with zeal to undertake the much talked of discovery of an overland way to the Western Ocean. One of the Indians, Ochagach by name, gave a very particular account of the country and even made a map on birch bark showing the great River of the West.
By the year 1729, Verendrye's plans had ripened and he made the long journey to Quebec to lay them before the Governor of New France, General Beauharnois. The latter received him with enthusiasm, approved his project and sent an urgent request to the court at Versailles for the necessary official sanction and for financial aid.
But conditions in France had changed. The Regency was at an end. Louis XV had come of age and he and his kingdom were ruled by the agend and parsimonious minister, Cardinal Fleury. France moreover, was staggering under the crushing load of debt bequeathed by the wars and follies of the previous regimes. Still, the discovery of a highway to the sea, and the vast acquisition of territory consequent to such explorations, offered advantages not to be ignored. In view of this, the court granted to the Sieur de la Verendrye its official permission to make the exploration at his own expense, and to take possession of all newly discovered territories in the name of the King. In return he was to be granted exclusive fur trading privileges in the countries visited.
Naturally, Verendrye's resources were not great enough to finance such an undertaking, but with this fur trading monopoly as a bait, he was able to secure the backing of certain Montreal merchants. They cared nothing for his route to the Pacific but from reports of the vast region into which he was going, they believed 
The plan was to establish posts for trade with the Indians and to send peltries to Montreal each summer. That Verendrye regretted the necessity which obliged him to place the success of his mission at the mercy of these associates is apparent from his journal. He speaks of the arrangement with a misgiving which was to be only too well justified by events.
In the spring of 1731, the party set out by canoe from Montreal. It consisted of Verendrye, three of his four sons, his nephew the Sieur de la Jemeraye—a Canadian officer who had been stationed among the Sioux on Lake Pepin-and some fifty Canadian voyageurs.
Verendrye chose a new and better route than that previously taken. It became known as the Grand Portage route, and followed Pigeon River, the great chain of Lakes, and Rainy River along what is now the northern boundary of Minnesota for 300 miles; it became, and for over a hundred years continued to be, the main route of travel to the North West.
Almost at once the difficulties began which were to beset Verendrye's gallant undertaking to the end. His voyageurs, daunted by the long portage over the height of land between the water sheds of Superior and Lake Winnipeg, mutinied and refused to proceed. Some authorities believe they had been tampered with either by rival traders in Montreal, or by the English, who did not wish to see the stream of furs that had poured from the northwest wilderness to their posts on Hudson's Bay, diverted to the French.
But with that power over men which is the indispensable asset of true leaders, Verendrye kept the mutineers in hand. A certain number were persauded to proceed to Rainy Lake under La Jemeraye and there Ft. Pierre was established. Verendrye himself remained at the mouth of Kaministiqua for the winter, with his band of malcontents. In the spring, accompanied and guided by a large band of friendly Indians, he and his men traversed Rainy Lake, descended Rainy River, threaded their way through the intricate channels of Lake of the Woods and, at its western extremity began the construction of Ft. St. Charles. This post was completed by the fall and became the important rendezvous for the various detachments of the Verendrye party and principal base for further explorations. Both Ft. St. Pierre and Ft. St. Charles were on land now in the state of Minnesota near the towns of International Falls and Warroad respectively.
Then winter again. Verendrye's partners had sent him no spring supplies and only one of the four canoe loads expected in the fall reached him. Another long Canadian winter, with the savage cold creeping through every crack of the windowless log fort, separated by hundreds of miles of ice-bound wilderness from the small French settlements on the Great Lakes. We picture the life within the post, a life stripped of every comfort and many of the barest necessities, the men crowded together in constant, wearing intimacy, from which there was no escape; and outside, in the trackless, silent forest, the ever present menace of a lurking enemy—the implacable Sioux. But harder for Verendrye than any physical discomfort was the knowledge that his associates would not countenance or assist his cherished purpose of pushing farther west to establish a post on Lake Winnipeg, then called Lake Bourbon.
We can imagine with what impatience he awaited the spring, when the ice should break up in the lakes, and the streams, swollen to raging torrents by the melting snow, should subside and again become navigable for the egg shell canoes of the voyageurs. He had determined to send his nephew to Montreal to report favorably on the progress he had made in winning the loyalty of the Indians and obtaining from them information of the country further west, and to make an earnest appeal to his faint hearted associates for continued help. Also, the Jesuit missionary Father Messaiger, who had joined the Verendrye party at Michilimackinac on its outward journey, now daunted by the hardships and the terrible isolation of this small outpost of white men that were here plunged so deep in the unknown wilderness, demanded the earliest possible release from the enterprise,—an incident surprising to those who have read of the heroic Jesuits of the preceding century. The commander himself remained at or in the vicinity of Ft. St. Charles, trading and extending official relations with the Indians during an impatient summer and a third perilous winter. He received no supplies or word of encouragement.
However, in the spring of 1734, impelled by the deplorable state of his affairs, he set out for Montreal. Before leaving he managed, with characteristic determination, to make arrangements for one of his sons to proceed to Lake Winnipeg and there establish the projected post. This plan was duly carried out and Ft. Maurepas was built on the southeast shore of the lake in the late summer or fall.
In the meantime Verendrye, in Montreal, fought for the future of his enterprise. From Governor Beauharnois, in spite of the latter's good will, he obtained nothing but words of praise and further orders concerning the expedition; but by mortgaging the whole future profits of the fur trade he managed to secure a new set of partners. In the autumn of 1735 he was again at Ft. St. Charles, which he found destitute of food and "without hope of wild rice on account of floods of water."
The disasters of this tragic year of 1735-36 can be but briefly outlined. Owing to the mismanagement of the guide, the four canoe loads of supplies expected in the fall did not arrive. Fish and game failed, and by spring the occupants of Ft. St. Charles were starving. Fort Maurepas was in like condition. In May, 1736, La Verendrye's sons, returning from Maurepas, brought him news of the death of his nephew La Jemeraye, which had occurred during the journey. The following month the climax of misfortune was reached in the murder of Verendrye's eldest son.
A second missionary priest, Father Aulneau, whom Verendrye had brought with him the previous fall, proved unequal to the grim life of this new frontier. He demanded to be returned to Michilimackinac and asked that Verendrye's son should accompany him so that he might make the journey with the greatest speed and safety. Verendrye granted the request and also manned and despatched a flotilla of three canoes to obtain supplies, at any cost to himself, for the destitute forts.
The little band set out from Ft. St. Charles in June, 1736. When not more than 20 miles from the post they were ambushed by a Sioux war party and every member of the company was killed. Not long before, some of this tribe had been fired upon and killed by the Crees at Ft. St. Charles, and now their people were taking the inevitable revenge. This tragic occurrence took place on an island in the Lake of the Woods, since known as Massacre Island.
The very terseness of Verendrye's entry in his journal indicates perhaps the depth of his grief: "I lost my son, the reverend Father and all my Frenchmen, which I will regret all my life."
La Verendrye's efforts had now covered a period of five years. He had established and was maintaining trading posts far to westward of any previous settlement. He was bereaved and impoverished, and his task was scarcely begun. But to him the undertaking was not a task, but a crusade; it was a passion which misfortune could not discourage or overcome.
The Crees and Assiniboines were eager to join with the French in a war of revenge upon the Sioux. This Verendrye would not permit, although in refusing he risked incurring the scorn and enmity of his allies. Such a war would seriously jeopardize further westward exploration, and would inevitably result in the death and torture of such Frenchmen as might be found in the Sioux country.
The following autumn brought Verendrye, as he notes in his journal, "only a little aid." Evidently his new backers were hardly more to be relied upon than the former had been. Doubtless too, the returns from the marketing of furs fell below their expectations, although the country was, as subsequently proven, rich in peltries. Perhaps the actual necessities of the party consumed more of the profits than the Montreal merchants considered fair; also the failure of the Montreal people to supply trade goods in adequate quantities must have been a serious handicap; and above all, the heart of the leader was not in the building up of profitable trade, but rather in a more glorious adventure,—the discovery of the new northwest passage, the passage by land to the sea and so to India and Cathay.
Besides the disaffection of his associates Verendrye now had to cope with the importunities of the Assiniboines and Crees, who demanded that he obtain military protection for them from the Sioux. The unavenged insult offered to the whites by the latter had, they alleged, increased the audacity^of their enemies to a dangerous degree.
Early in the summer of 1737, Verendrye set out again for Montreal leaving his three remaining sons and most of his voyageurs among the Indians. This journey seems to have had happier results. He obtained from the Governor not only the usual praise and permission to continue his activities,—for which Verendrye seemed always to be touchingly grateful,—but some military aid. The following summer (1738) he returned with six canoes and twenty-two men to Lake of the Woods. In the autumn he ascended the Assiniboine to where Portage la Prairie now is and there established Fort La Reine. That same year he established Fort Rouge on the Red River of the North, at the mouth of the Assiniboine—the present site of Winnipeg. These activities constituted a long step in establishing the great route of the North, which became a regular thoroughfare of the fur companies, and so continued for more than a century.
In the fall of that year Verendrye was reinforced by the arrival of the brothers de la Marque, bringing men and supplies. With this assistance he was able to undertake an expedition he must have contemplated with eagerness for some time. He had learned from the Indians of a certain people known as the Mantannes (Mandans or Hidatsas) who lived southward on the Missouri, and who, it was said, knew the way to the sea and would guide him to it. This people he was told differed from other Indians. They occupied permanent dwellings, cultivated the soil and many of them were fair in coloring, like the whites.
Accordingly, with ten of la Marque's men and ten of his own, accompanied by one of the brothers la Marque and by two of his sons, he set out to visit the Mandans. He knew nothing of the distance from the Red River Valley to the Pacific Ocean, or whether the intervening country would afford subsistence for the party. The hope that the Mandans could tell him, and might guide him, filled his breast as he started up the Assiniboine. It was a year of protracted drought and 'the streams were lower than usual in October, 1738. On this account, practically the entire journey was made from Fort La Reine overland, following generally a southwesterly direction until a point was reached near the south bend of the Mouse River loop, not far from the present town of Verendrye, North Dakota. There La Verendrye found the first Mandan village, and from there he sent one of his sons and a Frenchman to other villages on the Missouri River, 75 miles to the southwest. His is the first account of any visit to the Mandans or to this part of the Missouri. As we have seen, he expected they would be found to be quite different from, and greatly superior to, other Indians; and while he tells of blonde and white individuals among them, and considers their fortifications superior to those of other Indians he had seen, he voices disappointment at learning that they were just Indians after all.
He returned to Fort La Reine early in 1739, leaving two men to learn the language and customs of these Indians, so that the remainder of the trip to the Western Sea might be made easier by their aid, for he had no thought but to resume the journey as soon as possible. As usual, he found his posts beset with all manner of difficulties, and as the season advanced was confronted with the usual failure of supplies. At last, it became necessary for him to undertake a fourth journey to Montreal. He arrived there in August, 1740, only to find that the incomprehensible envy and calumny which his efforts in behalf of New France had ever aroused, had culminated in a law suit. Action had been brought against his posts, and accusations of greed and of dishonest use of his trading privileges to amass a private fortune, had been sent to the French court. To this slander Verendrye merely replied: "If more than 40,000 livres of debt which are hanging over me are an advantage I flatter myself with being very rich."
Beauharnois remained at all times La Verendrye's staunch friend and supporter and this loyalty was a great consolation to the brave adventurer, who himself admits that at one time he was all but overwhelmed with grief at the bitter and unceasing attacks made upon him.
He did not, however, turn for an instant from his self appointed mission, although he had now made up his mind to send his sons on the forthcoming journey toward the Pacific, reserving for himself the arduous task of maintaining the forts they had established in this savage fastness. Before their departure, other more remote posts, not long occupied, and now doubtful of location were built,—Fort Dauphin probably on Lake Manitoba, and another on the Saskatchewan.
At last, early in the summer of 1742, two of Verendrye's sons, accompanied by two Canadians only, set out to accomplish the long anticipated and hazardous journey to the sea. Their first objective was the Mandan village they had already visited in 1738, where they expected to obtain guides. The expedition left Fort La Reine and followed Mouse River past the present town of Verendrye to the Missouri.
The Mandans, it appeared, knew nothing of the sea, but they supplied the Frenchmen with two men who were to conduct them westward to a tribe obscurely referred to as the Horse Indians,[2] a people who, it was believed, had knowledge of the western ocean. The small party traveled for twenty-one days through a country untenanted, except for the endless variety of game that pastured on the rich herbage of the plain and excepting also for the innumerable water fowl that rose on whirring wings from lake and stream.
Then they met the human occupants of this primeval land, and it was fortunate for the small and defenseless band of Frenchmen that these Indians had not yet come to know the ways of white men. How significant it is to compare the experience of the Verendryes with that of later expeditions! Without exception the numerous tribes they encountered received them with courtesy, kindness and often with rejoicing. They passed from tribe to tribe seeking the information they required; but none could give it. At last, they joined a vast horde of Bow Indians[3] who were marching westward to make war upon the Snakes. Of the disinterested helpfulness of these savages the travelers speak with special enthusiasm.
Just where the party went is uncertain. Possibly they followed the Missouri as far as the Great Falls, or even to the gate of the mountains (near the present site of the station called Wolf Creek on the Great Northern Railway). The preponderance of proof, however, seems to indicate that they kept on the bench between the Little Missouri and the Yellowstone, eventually reaching a point near Custer's battle field. In any event, on January 1st, 1743, the brothers saw the snow-clad peaks of the Rockies, or of some eastern range of the Rocky Mountain system.
They desired eagerly to press on, feeling sure that just beyond the shining barrier they would at last look down upon the object of their long endeavor. But the war strategy of the Indians prevented them from proceeding. The Snakes were a dangerous foe, and the Bows, finding the camps of the enemy deserted, feared they had circled to the rear and would fall upon the women and children of the attacking party, who had been left some distance in the rear.
In spite of the protests of their chief, (whose loyal care of the Frenchmen is worthy of record) they retreated in disorder. The baffled explorers had no choice but to return; they proceeded eastward and finally reached the Missouri at what is now Fort Pierre, South Dakota. The elder son, the Chevalier, relates that he buried a leaden plate, under a rock, on a high bluff overlooking the Missouri, and it was there, in February, 1913, a school girl found the plate, after it had lain for almost 170 years at the place he left it. From this point they returned, by way of the Mandan villages and then down the Mouse River past the present town of Verendrye, to Fort La Reine, and eastward via Grand Portage.
The Verendryes, father and sons, have much claim to fame as pathfinders of the Northwest. They discovered the Red River of the North, the Assiniboine and Mouse Rivers, and the upper Missouri—that is to say, the great plains country of northwestern Minnesota, Manitoba, North Dakota, northern South Dakota, and eastern Montana. They established a post (Fort La Reine) 500 miles farther west than any that had been before located. In their quest for a route to the western ocean, they went more than half the distance from the Atlantic to the Pacific; and it was fifty years later that MacKenzie pushed on across the remaining distance. It was fifty-nine years after their first trip that David Thompson retraced their route up the Mouse River, past the present town of Verendrye, across from the Mouse River loop to the Missouri, where he established trade relations with the Mandans for the North West Company and then took up the western explorations that carried him, in 1808, through the Kootenai and Flathead country, thence down the Columbia to be, in 1811, the first white man to traverse that great river from its source to its mouth. Lewis and Clark spent a winter among the Mandan villages, just sixty-six years after the Verendryes' first visit.
Great as were the achievements of the first adventurous Frenchmen, more important still was their influence in hastening other explorations, as reports of their exploits spread among the trading po^ts and camps. The only recompense La Verendrye received from the government which, at no expense to itself, profiled greatly by his services, was the gift of the order of St. Louis. This honor reached him shortly before his death in 1749, when he was about to set out once more for the far west. His sons were deprived (not only of the posts they had built, but of supplies with which they had stocked these posts, by the authorities. All three sons were military officers. Pieree Gaultier, a lieutenant, was drowned off the coast of Cape Breton, in 1761, when l'Auguste was wrecked; Francois, the Chevalier, gave his life for New France at the siege of Quebec; Louis Joseph died in 1775.
It is interesting to follow the development which has taken place in the territory first explored by the Verendryes. When the four young Frenchmen left the Mandan villages they entered a virgin land of unlimited possibilities. They had seen corn, pumpkins, beans and melons flowering under the rude implements of the Mandan women—a hoe made from the shoulder blade of an elk, and a pointed stick hardened by fire; they found rich prairies of waving grass furnishing sustenance to numerous great herds of buffalo, to deer and antelope; and, pasturing on the highlands, they saw multitudes of elk and mountain sheep.
But they were Frenchmen; they gave little thought to this obvious fertility, except as a means of sustenance in their eternal quest for new horizons. The history of the French in America is a history of exploration. The Anglo-Saxons were primarily settlers, the French were not; and in this failure lay the cause of their own elimination from the vast new world they were the first to penetrate.
Nor were the early adventurers alone in ignoring the potentialities of the rich lands stretching from the Mouse River and the first great western bend of the Missouri almost to the Rocky Mountains. When the fur traders had cleared the streams of beaver and the plains of buffalo, the region that is now the Dakotas and Montana, was regarded for the most part, as a barren no man's land to be got over as quickly as possible in the rush to the Pacific. Then the time came to build railroads and these it was believed must be carried by heavy government subsidies over territories from which they could derive little revenue. In fact, from the time of the Verendryes to that of a very different pathfinder, James J. Hill—the builder of the last of the great pioneer roads—this view largely prevailed.
Mr. Hill was an Anglo-Saxon, not a Frenchman. He too was lured by distant horizons, but he was willing to proceed toward them slowly, sending deep roots into the soil as he advanced. Where crops had thriven under the rude culture of the Indian women, crops on a far greater scale would-flourish under the advanced methods of cultivation; where buffalo, antelope and deer, elk and mountain sheep had found ample sustenance, the livestock of the pioneer would live and multiply. Mr. Hill proposed to blaze a new overland trail to the Pacific, but it was to advance scarcely more rapidly than settlements which could support it.
It must be remembered that there was only left for him the most northely route, the one least likely, in the unseeing eyes of his time, to support such an enterprise as he contemplated. Time has demonstrated the accuracy of his judgment. The Great Northern railway, built without government aid, both created and has been supported by, the agricultural and stock raising communities of a country carelessly condemned as worthless. A vast and prosperous population has followed the shadowy footsteps of those early Frenchmen and the faith and practical sagacity of a great American.