four houses, prepared materials for constructing a small church, and enclosed a field of 300 acres. More than four hundred Kalispels, computing adults and children have been baptized. They are all animated with fervor and zeal; they make use of the hatchet and plough, being resolved to abandon an itinerant life for a permanent abode. The beautiful falls of the Columbia, called the Chaudières,[83] in the vicinity of Fort Colville, are distant two days' journey from our new residence of St. Ignatius.
From eight to nine hundred savages were {106} there assembled for the salmon fishery. I repaired thither in time to spend with them the nine days preceding the feast of our holy founder. Within the last four years, considerable numbers of these Indians were visited by the "black-gowns," who administered the sacrament of baptism. I was received by my dear Indians with filial joy and tenderness. I caused my little chapel of boughs to be placed on an eminence in the midst of the Indians' huts, where it might not inaptly be compared to the pelican of the wilderness surrounded by her young, seeking with avidity the divine word, and sheltering themselves under the protection of their fostering mother. I gave three instructions daily; the Indians assisted at them with great assiduity and attention.
Last year, the feast of St. Ignatius proved for me a day of danger, trial, and uneasiness. I love to recall it to my mind, for it terminated joyfully, and so gloriously, that I know my companions can never forget it, and they will return lasting thanks to the Almighty, for the display of His mercy. Without a chart or any knowledge of the mouth of the Columbia, we traversed, as if borne on angels' wings, this formidable river. This year, I passed the feast {107} of St. Ignatius amidst many occupations, but
