CHAPTER XXV.

EARLY DISCOVERERS.

The progress of the little steamer was necessarily much slower now than when the boys had come down the river, moving as she was against the strong current. There was, however, too much of inspiration in the experience to make the young campers feel impatient, and as there were but few passengers besides themselves on board, they took their chairs to a sheltered spot on the upper deck, and the sounds of their merry laughter and shouts soon resounded over the river. They cheered the passing boats, and gave their school cry whenever they approached a camp.

After a time even these measures became tame and failed to satisfy the boys, and Bob, quick to seize his opportunity, said, "I'll now resume my lectures, with your kind permission."

"I don't think our permission will have much to do with it," said Ben. "You'll go on just the same."

Bob scowled, but as he knew the boys really were interested, and wanted to learn something more about the early discoverers, he began:--

"When Cartier returned to France after his second voyage, the hardships and losses he had to report were not, of course, very encouraging to the Frenchmen, who wanted him to find a country where the streets of the cities were all paved with gold. But Francis de La Roque, the Lord of Roberval in Picardy, had himself appointed viceroy and lieutenant-general of the new territory, Cartier still being called captain-general and chief pilot of the king's ships.

"Five vessels were then fitted out, and in May, 1541, Cartier started with two of them and was soon afterward joined by the others. Then all five started across the ocean blue, and three months later landed at Sainte Croix. He began to cruise about, and finally sent two of his ships back to France, though he kept the other three at the mouth of the Red River.

"Cartier then went up to Hochelaga, hoping to be able to come farther up the river, but the winter was a terrible one, and his men were so discouraged that in the spring, his provisions being exhausted, and the Indians beginning to cut up, he sailed away for France. On the way over he met Roberval, who ordered him to go back again; but Cartier did not see it in that light, so he kept on, and finally got back to France, where he lived and died in peace."

"Oh, more! more!" said Ben, mockingly.

Bob laughed as he replied, "There was no more, so far as Cartier was concerned. It was three times and out with him."

"Then he never came as far up the St. Lawrence as we are now?" asked Bert.

"No. Cartier never did. Of course others came, and I'll tell you about them."

"It's a wonderful river," murmured Jock. "And just think of it, fellows. We're sailing over the very same river those old chaps did. Just the same, after three hundred years have gone."

"No, it isn't the same," replied Ben.

"Why not, I'd like to know?" demanded Jock.

"Oh, the water keeps running away all the time. They call it the same river, but it's never the same for any two minutes. The banks are the same, but the river itself is constantly changing."

"You're getting it down too fine for me," said Jock. "And that's Canada, over there," he added, pointing to the distant shore as he spoke. "I wonder where they got that name. Do you know, Bob?"

"There are two theories," replied Bob, quickly. "One is based on the story that Stefano Gomez, a Spaniard, was the first white man to enter the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and that he came in 1525. He died over here somewhere, I believe, so the story can't be denied. There is an old Spanish tradition that he came into the gulf and landed, and when he didn't find any gold, or mines, or any of the things for which he was looking, he exclaimed, 'Aca-nada,' which means, I'm told, 'Here is nothing.' And Canada is said to be derived from that."

"What's the other theory? You said there were two, Bob," said Jock.

"Oh, the other is that Canada is another form of the Indian word, Ka-na-ta, which means a village. I've given you both, and you can take your choice."

"But how did the gulf and the river get their names, Professor?" asked Ben.

"Cartier gave it to them in honor of the saint who was supposed to be the patron of the day when he made his discovery--the 10th of August, you know. I think the saint deserved to have his name given, too, for it is said he was broiled on a gridiron in 253."

"Good time," remarked Ben, dryly. "Two forty is better, though."

"Bob," demanded Bert, "how do you know all this stuff. I don't see how one small head can contain all you know."

"That isn't original, my friend," remarked Bob. "You have the idea but not the language of our last text-book in English Lit. How do I know so much? Oh, it comes natural to some people. I know a heap more than I have told you, though. If you want me to, I'll give you some of it now. We haven't got to Ogdensburgh yet."

"Oh, do! do! Lend the charm of your voice to these interesting details you have picked out of some almanac," said Ben.

"I'll lend you my voice if you'll lend me your ears!" rejoined Bob.

"Never!" shouted Ben, clasping those members as he spoke.

"Well, turn the whole length of them toward me and it'll do just as well. They're more becoming to you than they would be to me."

"Oh, go on with your yarn," interrupted Bert. "We'll listen to you till we get to Ogdensburgh. After that, if you dare refer to one of the early discoverers, overboard you go! Doesn't he, fellows?"

"Hear! Hear!" shouted Ben, sitting quickly erect.

"I shan't forget," said Bob, laughing. "You fellows seem to think I'm giving you these facts for the fun of the thing."

"You are," said Ben.

"It may be rare sport," said Bob, "but I don't see it in just that light. I'm trying to teach you something, so that when you go back to the city you'll be able to make a half-decent appearance."

"Nonsense!" protested Ben. "You've been cramming up, and are just spreading your knowledge before us, the way Ethan says his peacock gets into the house and spreads his tail in front of the looking-glass and struts around like all possessed. You can't fool us, Bob."

"I don't have to," said Bob, good-naturedly.

"Quit your fooling and go on with your story, Bob," said Jock. "We'll be at Ogdensburgh pretty soon, and then you're under bonds not to refer to another discoverer there. And I want to know about these things."

"All right," said Bob. "Well, the French kept sending somebody over here almost every year after Cartier stopped coming, but nothing of any consequence was done before 1608. Then a Calvinist named DeMonts obtained freedom for himself and his religious sympathizers in the New World, only the Catholic religion was to be established among the natives, and finally Champlain and Pontgrave were sent over here in that year to begin a settlement and look after the trade in furs. They were both sterling men and had had plenty of experience, and no better ones could have been found.

"Champlain reached Tadousac on the 3d of June, and after a month was at Quebec, where Cartier had spent the winter almost three-quarters of a century before. He saw what a fine site there was there for a city, and at once selected the spot as the place for a settlement.

"The next spring, in April, Samuel Champlain, along with two of the Frenchmen, started up the great river. They got along fairly well, and at last turned to the south and went down and discovered the lake which now bears his name, and then went on into the other lake, which, as you know, is Lake George."

"Yes, I've heard of that lake," murmured Ben.

"Five years afterward," continued Bob, ignoring the interruption, "Champlain succeeded in having four Recollets appointed to begin a mission work among the Indians. To get the favor of the red men, Champlain himself, and a priest named Joseph Le Cavon, went with them to help whip the Iroquois; but the Iroquois weren't in a mood to be whipped that time, and drove off their enemies and wounded Champlain, just as if he hadn't come on his merciful errand."

"Hold on, Bob," said Jock. "You didn't tell us whether Champlain found Lake George all named when he got there."

"It was named," replied Bob, "though it wasn't named George. The Indians called it Horicon, and the Frenchmen named it Lake St. Sacrament. Sir William Johnson, afterward, for good and sufficient reasons, changed it to Lake George. But to resume. When Champlain was wounded he had to spend the winter with the Indians; but he made good use of his time and learned a lot about them--their language, customs, and all that sort of thing.

"It was in 1625 when Henri de Levi, Duke de Ventadour--he had purchased the vice-royalty of New France, you see, before this time, for they didn't mind such little things as selling a kingdom or two, with a world and a few stars thrown in--sent over here Father Lallemant and four other Jesuit priests and laymen. Father Lallemant was a good man and very earnest, and the Recollets, of course, received him and his companions very kindly.

"In the following year three other Jesuit priests were also sent over here, along with some settlers and mechanics, and they soon made the little settlement begin to look something like a town. In 1629 the English happened to come along, and quietly took the place as their own; but there was a treaty made, and they had to stand by it, so the French owned the town again in 1632; and the very next year Champlain was appointed once more as governor of New France. He'd been governor before, you see, and this was only putting him back into his own place. But he didn't live very long, for, if I recollect aright, he died in December, 1635."

"What for?" inquired Ben, soberly. "Were the gubernatorial honors too heavy for his shoulders? Perhaps he didn't like the political methods of the Indians. I wish you'd explain it, Bob."

"From that time, for a good while, the Jesuit missionaries kept coming over here, and the work they did was something marvellous. They went up the river and kept on out along the lakes, and even down other rivers. They dressed as the Indians did, and ate and lived with them, just to learn their ways and convince the red men that they were their friends. They were tortured sometimes, horribly, but they never flinched. They just kept right on, and you can well believe it wasn't very long before their priests had a grip on the Indians which wasn't very small. Every tribe of the Iroquois of New York had its own special missionary, and almost every nation out along the lakes and down the Mississippi had one too; and they made themselves of so much use, going with the men even into battle, that they're not forgotten yet.

"Well, of course, where the missionaries went, there business went too; and it wasn't long before fur-trading posts were established wherever the Jesuits were. Then, to protect the fur traders, and to keep the English from getting any of the business, soldiers had to be sent along; and so, as Quebec was the head centre of the whole affair, it wasn't long before there was a regular business all along the St. Lawrence, long before any real settlements were made on its borders, or at least along the lakes."

"I say, Bob," interrupted Ben, "did you ever read any of Oliver Wendell Holmes's books?"

"Yes, I've read the 'Autocrat.'"

"Do you remember about that chap who could talk a lot on some subjects, and didn't know anything about others?"

"You mean the one who'd read a volume or two in the cyclopædia, and not much besides?"

"Pre-e-cisely! Now I've found you out. _You've_ been reading a volume of the cyclopædia, and are giving us its contents."

"Which volume?" asked Bob.

"The one that has the C's in it. Cartier, Champlain, Canada, Cavon, Catholic, Cortereal--don't you see, fellows?" he added, turning triumphantly to his friends. "We've found him out! He's crammed up on his C's. Now, to prove it, let's ask him some questions on other subjects. What was the first settlement above Quebec? What soldiers came in here? Who was--who was--a--a--"

"Hello! That's Ogdensburgh ahead there!" exclaimed Bob, suddenly; and as he spoke he ran quickly to the bow of the steamer, ostensibly to obtain a better view of the town which they were approaching.