River, commended themselves to God, and, uttering
a loud cry, advanced to the nearest village.
The Indians hear, and thinking their visitors
celestial beings, four old men advance with reverential mien, and offer the pipe of peace. " We
are Illinois," said they, and they offered the calumet. They had heard of the Frenchmen, and
welcomed them to their wigwams, followed by the
devouring gaze of an astonished crowd. At a
great council held soon after, Marquette published
to them the true God, their Author. He also
spoke of his nation and of his King, who had
chastised the Five Nations and commanded peace.
He questioned them concerning the Great River and its tributaries, and the tribes dwelling on its banks. A magnificent feast was spread before them, and the conference continued several days.
At the close of the sixth day, the chieftains of the
tribes, with numerous trains of warriors, attended
the visitors to their canoes, and selecting a peace-
pipe, gayly comparisoned, they hung the sacred
calumet, emblem of peace to all and a safeguard
among the nations, about the good Father's neck,
and bid the strangers good speed. "I did not
fear death," writes Marquette ; "I should have
esteemed it the greatest happiness to have died
for the glory of God." On their journey, they
passed the perpendicular rocks, whose sculptured
sides showed them the monsters they should meet.
Farther down, they pass the turgid flood of the
Missouri, known to them by its Algonquin name,
Pekitanoni. Resolving in his heart to one day
explore its flood, Marquette rejoiced in the new
world it evidently could open to him. A little
farther down, they pass the bluffs where now is a
mighty emporium, then silent as when created. In
a little less than forty leagues, they pass the clear
waters of the beautiful Ohio, then, and long after-
ward, known as the Wabash. Its banks were inhabited by numerous villages of the peaceful
Shawanees, who then quailed under the incursions
of the dreadful Iroquois. As they go on down the
mighty stream, the canes become thicker, the insects
more fierce, the heat more intolerable. The prairies
and their cool breezes vanish, and forests of white-wood, admirable for their vastness and height, crowd
close upon the pebbly shore. It is observed that the
Chickasaws have guns, and have learned how to
use them. Near the latitude of 33 degrees, they
encounter a great village, whose inhabitants pre-sent an inhospitable and warlike front. The pipe
of peace is held aloft, and instantly the savage foe
drops his arms and extends a friendly greeting.
Remaining here till the next day, they are escorted for eight or ten leagues to the village of Akansea.
They are now at the limit of their voyage. The
Indians speak a dialect unknown to them. The
natives show furs and axes of steel, the latter proving they have traded with Europeans. The two
travelers now learn that the Father of Waters went neither to the Western sea nor to the
Florida coast, but straight south, and conclude not
to encounter the burning heats of a tropical clime,
but return and find the outlet again. They
had done enough now, and must report their discovery.
On the 17th day of July, 1673, one hundred and thirty-two years after the disastrous journey of De Soto, which led to no permanent results, Marijuette and Joliet left the village of Akansea on their way back. At the 38th degree, they encounter the waters of the Illinois which they had before noticed, and which the natives told them afforded a much shorter route to the lakes. Paddling up its limpid waters, they see a country unsurpassed in beauty. Broad prairies, beautiful uplands, luxuriant groves, all mingled in excellent harmony as they ascend the river. Near the head of the river, they pause at a great village of the Illinois, and across the river behold a rocky promontory standing boldly out against the landscape. The Indians entreat the gentle missionary to remain among them, and teach them the way of life. He cannot do this, but promises to return when he can and instruct them. The town was on a plain near the present village of Utica, in La Salle County, 111., and the rock was Starved Rock, afterward noted in the annals of the Northwest. One of the chiefs and some young men conduct the party to the Chicago River, where the present mighty city is, from where, continuing their journey "along the western shores of the lake, they reach Green Bay early in September.
The great valley of the West was now open. The "Messippi" rolled its mighty flood to a southern sea, and must be fully explored. Marquette's health had keenly suffered by the voyage and he concluded to remain here and rest. Joliet hastened on to Quebec to report his discoveries. During the journey, each had preserved a description of the route they had passed over, as well as the country and its inhabitants. While on the way to Quebec, at the foot of the rapids near Montreal, by some means one of Joliet's canoes became capsized, and by it he lost his box of papers and two of his men. A greater calamity could have
