_A Trip toward Mexico._
Arrangements for the Journey. The Departure. Indians on Horseback.
Scenes of Enchantment. Attractive Character of La Salle. Visit to the
Kironas. The Bite of the Snake. Adventures Wild and Perilous. Hardihood
of the Indian Hunter. The Long Sickness. A Man Devoured by a Crocodile.
The Return.
Though La Salle was now more than four hundred miles west of the
Mississippi River, he was still under the impression that he was east
of that point. He therefore, in his blind search, directed his steps
toward the setting sun. Father Douay, who accompanied this expedition,
has given a detailed account of its adventures.
After religious ceremonies in the chapel of the fort, the party,
consisting of twenty persons, set out, on the 22d of April, 1686. They
took, for the journey, four pounds of powder, four pounds of lead, two
axes, two dozen knives, two kettles, and a few awls and beads.
On the third day out they entered one of the most beautiful prairies
they had ever seen. To their astonishment they saw, on the plain, a
large number of people, some on foot and some on horseback. Several of
these came galloping toward them, booted and spurred, and seated on
saddles. They were Indians who were in a high state of civilization,
having long held intimate relations with the Spaniards. They gave the
Frenchmen an earnest invitation to visit them, in their village, which
was about twenty miles distant. But as this would take them quite out
of their course, the invitation was declined. Continuing their tour,
they encamped at night, being careful to throw up around them
entrenchments which would protect them from attack. The next two days
they continued their journey over the prairie, until they reached a
river, which La Salle named Robek. The amount of wild cattle seen was
prodigious. Many of the herds numbered thousands. In a few moments they
shot ten. The meat they cut into very thin slices, and dried in the
blazing sun, over the smoke of a smouldering fire. Thus they were
provided with nutritious food for four or five days.
Crossing the Robek in a hastily constructed raft, after marching about
five miles they came to another very beautiful river, wider and deeper
than the Seine at Paris. It was skirted by a magnificent forest, with
no underbrush, presenting a park such as the hand of man never planted.
In this Eden-like grove there were many trees laden with rich fruit.
This river, which La Salle named La Maligne, they also crossed upon a
raft. Passing through the forest beyond, they entered upon another
extensive prairie. Continuing their tour through a country which they
describe as full of enchantments, with blooming plains skirted with
vines, fruit trees, and groves, they came to a river which they called
Hiens, from one of their party, a German, who, in endeavoring to ford
it, got stuck fast in the mud. Two men swam across with axes on their
backs. They then cut down the largest trees, on each side, so that
their branches met in the middle. By this bridge the party crossed.
More than thirty times, during this trip, they resorted to this measure
for crossing streams.
"After several days' march," writes Father Douay, "in a pretty fine
country, we entered a delightful territory, where we found a numerous
tribe, who received us with all possible friendship; even the women
coming to embrace our men. They made us sit down on well-made mats, at
the upper end of the wigwam, near the chiefs, who presented us with the
calumet, adorned with feathers of every hue, which we had to smoke in
turn."
The Indians feasted them abundantly, with the best of their fare, and
presented them with some excellently tanned buffalo skins, for
moccasins. La Salle gave them, in return, some beads, with which they
seemed to be greatly delighted. Father Douay writes:
"During our stay, Chevalier La Salle so won them by his manners,
and insinuated so much of the glory of our king, telling them that
he was greater and higher than the sun, that they were all ravished
with astonishment."
Continuing their journey, they crossed several rivers, until they came
to a large Indian village of three hundred cabins. Just as they were
approaching the village they came upon a herd of deer and shot one. The
Indians, who heard the report and saw the deer fall dead, were
terror-stricken. In a mass they fled to the neighboring forest. La
Salle, to avoid surprise, entered the village in military array.
Entering the largest cabin, which proved to be that of the chief, they
found a very aged woman, the wife of the chief, who, from her
infirmities, was unable to fly. La Salle treated the terrified woman
with the greatest kindness, and by signs assured her that he intended
no harm. Three grown-up sons of the chief, who were watching the
progress of events with great solicitude, seeing no indication of
hostile measures, cautiously returned. La Salle met there with friendly
signs, and accepted the presented calumet. The young chiefs then called
to their people in the distance, and all returned. The evening was
passed in feasting, dancing, and all kinds of semi-barbarian
festivities.
Still La Salle did not venture to sleep in the wigwams, where his party
would be entirely in the power of those who might prove treacherous. He
returned to encamp in a dense cane-brake, where no foe could approach
without giving warning. In the night, some thought they heard
approaching footsteps. But La Salle made it manifest that they were all
on the alert, and the foe, if there were any foe approaching, drew off.
The alarm was doubtless groundless. The next morning there was a
repetition of all the tokens of friendship which were manifested the
evening before. Continuing their route about thirty miles, they came to
another Indian village. The savages seemed to have no suspicions
whatever of the strangers. A party, seeing them approaching in the
distance, came out to meet them as if they were old friends. They
seemed to be quite gentlemanly men in their courteous and polished
demeanor. They gave the strangers an earnest invitation to visit their
village.
These Indians had heard of the Spaniards, and of the atrocities of
which they were guilty farther west. They were quite overjoyed when
told that the French were at war with the Spaniards; and were quite
eager to raise an army and march with the French to attack them. La
Salle entered into a cordial alliance with these Indians, who were
called the Kironas. He promised that he would eventually, if it were in
his power, return with more numerous troops.
It would appear that La Salle was now convinced that he would not find
the Mississippi by journeying further west; for he turned his steps
toward the northeast. There was a large river near the village, across
which the hospitable Indians paddled them in their boats. As they were
crossing a beautiful prairie, their Indian companion, whose name was
Nika, called out suddenly, "I am dead! I am dead."
A venomous snake had bitten him, and the limb began instantly to throb
and swell. In rude surgery, they, with their pocket-knives, cut out the
flesh around. Deep gashes were cut near the wound hoping that the
poison would be carried away in the free flowing of the blood. They
applied poultices of herbs, which they had been told were available in
such cases. After much suffering, which the Indian bore with wonderful
stoicism, he recovered from the perilous wound.
Journeying on, day after day, they at length reached a broad river,
whose current was so rapid that they saw, at once, that it would be
very difficult to effect a passage. This was probably the Colorado,
many miles above the point where they had touched it in one of their
previous excursions. They made a raft. Most of the company were afraid
to attempt to cross upon it. La Salle, with his brother Cavalier and
one or two others, got on. As soon as they pushed out from the shore,
into the middle of the stream, the swiftly rushing torrent seized them,
whirled the raft around, and swept it down the stream with resistless
velocity. In a few moments it disappeared, as the foaming flood bore it
around a bend in the stream.
"It was a moment," writes Father Douay, "of extreme anguish for us all.
We despaired of ever again seeing our guardian angel the Chevalier de
la Salle." Several hours passed away. The men left upon the bank were
in utter bewilderment. They knew not what to do. "The day was spent,"
it is written, "in tears and weeping."
Just before nightfall, to their great joy, they saw La Salle and his
party on the opposite side of the river. It subsequently appeared that
the raft struck a large tree, which had been torn from the banks, and
was almost stationary in the middle of the stream; its roots, heavy
with earth and stone, dragging on the bottom. By seizing the branches
they dragged themselves out of the current, and by grasping the
branches of other trees, overhanging the water, they at length, through
a thousand perils, succeeded in gaining the eastern bank, several miles
below the point where they had constructed the raft. One of the men was
swept from the raft and swam ashore.
The party was now divided, with the foaming and apparently impassable
torrent rushing between them. On both sides the night was spent in
great anxiety. Many were the plans suggested and abandoned, to form a
reunion. In the morning, La Salle shouted to them across the river,
that they must build two light rafts, of the very buoyant canes, and
cross on them, promising them that he would send several strong
swimmers into the river to aid them.
One such raft was constructed. With fear and trembling five men
ventured upon it. The raft was so light that it barely supported its
burden. With long poles they succeeded in reaching the centre of the
stream. Then two men from the opposite side swam out, and by their aid,
with vigorous paddling, they safely reached the land, after drifting
far down the stream.
The most timid ones were left behind. They dared not venture the
passage. La Salle, seeing their hesitation, ordered his men to pack up
and continue their march, leaving them behind. The greater peril
overcame the less. To be abandoned there they deemed sure destruction.
They shouted across the river, begging for delay. Inspired by the
energies of almost despair, they vigorously built their raft, and by
noon all were happily reassembled to press on their way.
For two days they moved slowly and laboriously along, cutting their
way, with the two axes, through an immense forest of cane-brakes. On
the third day an incident occurred which peculiarly illustrates the
sagacity and endurance of the Indians. Their Indian hunter, Nika, who,
as we have said, accompanied La Salle from Canada, left the party the
day before they reached the river, in search of game. They had heard
nothing from him since. It was in vain to search for him, and the party
could not delay its march to wait for his return.
On the evening of the fourth day after his absence, as the men were
gathered around the camp fire, little expecting to see Nika again, he
came quietly into the camp as composed as if nothing unusual had
occurred. He had on his shoulders a large amount of the choicest cuts
of venison, which he had dried in the sun, and nearly the whole of a
deer which he had just killed. He had probably swum the stream,
floating the venison across on a log by his side. And all this he had
done, notwithstanding his wound from the bite of a snake and all the
cruel surgery he had undergone. La Salle was so overjoyed to see again
his faithful attendant and friend, that he ordered several guns to be
fired in salute of his safe return.
"Still marching east," writes Father Douay, "we entered countries more
beautiful than any we yet had passed. Here we found native tribes who
had nothing barbarous about them but the name. Among others we met a
very honest Indian returning from the chase with his wife and family.
He presented Chevalier de la Salle with one of his horses, and some
meat. He also invited all our party to his cabin. To induce us to visit
him, he left his wife, children, and game with us as pledges, and
galloped off to his village to announce our coming and to secure for us
a cordial welcome."
Nika, and another of the attendants of La Salle, accompanied him. The
village was at some distance, so that two days passed before their
return. The hospitable Indian came back with two horses laden with
provisions. Several chiefs and warriors came back with him on
horseback. They were all neatly and even beautifully dressed, in softly
tanned deer-skins, tastefully fringed, and with head-dresses of waving
plumes. In picturesque beauty their attire would favorably compare with
the court dresses of most of the European monarchies.
The principal chief rode forward, bearing conspicuously the plumed
calumet of peace. La Salle had been slowly advancing, and the two
parties met about nine miles from the village. After cordial greetings,
the united band continued its march. When but a short distance from the
cluster of native dwellings, an immense concourse of people was seen
flocking out to meet the strangers. The young men were quite imposingly
marshalled in military array. But the reception was so cordial, and the
indications of sincerity so unquestionable, that no one entertained the
slightest apprehension of treachery.
La Salle and his party remained three days, enjoying the good cheer of
this truly hospitable people. This very prudent commander encamped
three or four miles outside of the village. He had no fear of the
natives, but he had not full confidence in his own men. Any impropriety
of the members of his party toward the females of the village, might
suddenly turn their friendly relations into bitter hostility. There
were apparently many pleasant families. The young maidens were
generally of pleasing features, and graceful as sylphs in form. La
Salle purchased several horses, which proved to be of inestimable value
to him.
The region which the explorers had reached was probably not far from
Austin County, in the present State of Texas. It was a more highly
civilized and more densely inhabited country than any they had hitherto
passed through, in any portion of the continent. For a distance of
sixty miles they found a continuous series of villages, but a few miles
apart, all prosperous, harmonious, and happy.
Their cabins were large and commodious, frequently forty or fifty feet
high, with dome-like roofs, in the shape of the old-fashioned
bee-hives. They were made by planting very tall saplings in the ground,
in the form of a circle. Their tops were bent down and bound together.
This whole framework was very neatly and effectually thatched with the
long grass of the prairie. The beds, consisting of soft mats, were
ranged around the cabin, raised about three feet from the ground. The
fire, seldom needed except for cooking, in that warm latitude, was in
the middle. Each cabin usually accommodated two families.
These Indians were called the Coenis nation. It was very evident that
they had held some intercourse with the Spaniards. La Salle found among
them silver coins, silver spoons, and various kinds of European
clothes. Horses were abundant. A horse was readily exchanged for an
axe. La Salle could only converse with them by signs. They said no
Spaniards had ever yet visited them, though there was a settlement of
them at the distance of about six days' journey west. Several of their
most intelligent men drew a map of the country upon some bark. They
delineated a large river many days journey to the east, which La Salle
had no doubt was the Mississippi.
"The Chevalier La Salle," writes Father Douay, "who perfectly
understood the art of gaining the Indians of all nations, filled these
with admiration at every moment. He told them that the chief of the
French was the greatest chief in the world; that he was as far above
the Spaniards as the sun is above the earth. On his recounting the
victories of our monarch they burst into exclamations of astonishment.
I found them very docile and tractable. They comprehended well enough
what we told them of the truth of a God."
After the refreshment of this delightful visit, the explorers continued
their journey. After travelling about thirty miles, four of the men,
during a night's encampment, deserted and went back to cast in their
lot for life with the Indians. They were houseless and homeless
adventurers, with no ties to bind them to the cares, toils, and
restraints of civilized life. It is not surprising that they should
have been charmed with the ease, abundance, and freedom of life in the
wigwam. They probably became incorporated in the tribes, took Indian
wives, and were heard of no more.
At this encampment La Salle and his nephew, M. Moranget, were both
attacked with a violent fever. They had frequent relapses, so that two
weary months passed before the march could be resumed. During this long
delay they did not suffer for food, for there was abundance of game,
and of great variety. Their powder, however, began to fail them.
According to their estimate, they were about four hundred and fifty
miles, in a straight line, from their settlement. It was resolved now
to hasten back. Their horses, which found abundant pasturage on the
rich prairies, did them good service, bearing the sick upon their backs
and the burdens of all.
They came to a river which it was necessary to cross by a raft. Indeed
every few leagues they encountered such a stream. They generally swam
their horses over. In this case, La Salle, with one or two of his men,
was upon a light raft of canes. Suddenly an enormous crocodile, twenty
feet in length, raised his head out of the water, and with one snap of
his horrid jaws grasped one of the men by the waist and drew him under.
As the monster sank, there was one short, wild shriek from the victim,
a slight crimson tinge of the waves, and a small circling whirlpool
marking the spot where the huge beast had gone down. Thus, in an
instant, as by the lightning's flash, another of the terrible tragedies
of this tragic world had come and gone.
On the 17th of October this wearied and diminished party reached the
camp, after an absence of six months. Of the twenty who left, but eight
returned. The meeting was one of joy and of sadness. Both parties had
narratives to give of disaster; and gloom impenetrable still hung over
the feeble colony, so rapidly wasting away. In commenting upon this
enterprise, Father Douay writes:
"It would be difficult to find in history, courage more intrepid or
more invincible than that of the Chevalier de la Salle. In
adversity he was never cast down. He always hoped, with the help of
heaven, to succeed in his enterprises, despite all the obstacles
that rose against it."