Part 2

The next day, June 10th, they proceeded, two Miamis and seven Frenchmen in two canoes, up the river to the portage, through a net-work of marshes, little lakes, and meandering channels so hidden by the wild rice that their guides were very useful. Conducting Joliet to a portage of 2,700 paces, and assisting in the transportation of the canoes across it, the Miamis then returned, leaving the explorers "alone in an unknown country, in the hands of Providence."

Before launching their canoes into strange waters, which were to bear them into unknown lands, they knelt on the bank and offered up devout aspirations to God for continued success. The new river was the Weskousing (Wisconsin), whose broad shallows and sandy bottom, while rendering navigation slow and very laborious, yet contrasted delightfully with the rocky rapids of the Fox.

Father Marquette sets forth delightfully the ideal voyage down this stream, past vine-clad islets, along sloping banks, now bordered by the lovely prairie, with its sweet odors of fresh grasses and blooming flowers, and anon fringed by the primeval forest, beautiful with its tangle of shrubbery and in its June foliage. The gnarled oak, the straight walnut, the elegant whitewood, and other stately trees of unknown species met their vision at times, while again their eyes scarcely separated from the heavens the distant horizon of the green level plains, whose luxuriant vegetation afforded the richest pasturage for numerous herds of deer and moose, and in spots showed the fertility of its alluvial soil by the fields of Indian corn.

Each morning, before they relaunched their canoes, they attuned their voices to the praise of God, and, in their unique joy of successful discovery, must have felt on those delightful June days that their devotions had not been uplifted in vain. From sunrise to sunset they labored unceasingly, now paddling briskly along the deep reaches, and then struggling stoutly through mazes of shallows and sand-bars, where tedious and frequent portages were patiently made.

Each evening their hearts rejoiced and their tired limbs found delightful repose at some spot where Joliet's judgment directed the canoes to be drawn out, inspected, and upturned by some, while others started the camp-fire and prepared the evening meal. This camp was always so placed that the approach of an enemy could be seen from afar, and where fuel for fire and branches for bedding were at hand. The best hunter was told off for game, and rarely did the meal lack fresh meat or fruit and berries in season. After supper the soothing pipe, prayers and songs of praise, and then under the over-arching trees such sound slumber as only comes to men sleeping under the open sky.

As they advanced it was often possible to use sail and relieve the men to some extent from the fatigue of the paddle, and such rapid progress was made that, on June 17th, they safely entered the long-desired Mississippi, "with a joy," writes Marquette, "which I cannot express." They were then in latitude 43° 03´ N., opposite the site of the present city of Prairie du Chien.

Turning eagerly southward, their progress facilitated by the gentle current of the Mississippi, they journeyed more than a hundred leagues without seeing on the land aught save birds and beasts. The solitude of the great river appalled them: a vast torrent of rolling water, bordered by forest and plain, so well fitted for the happiness of man, and yet no human being in all this land! What could it mean, and what would be the outcome? Joliet, of long experience with savage tribes, and astute in forest craft, distrusted the silence and solitude, and kept as keen guard as though on the war-path. A tiny camp-fire was built only for meals, and the nights were passed in the crowded canoes as far from shore as it was possible to anchor them in the deep river. Even then strict watch was kept, and every strange or unusual noise excited feelings of trepidation lest a hidden foe be the cause.

Their journey by day was not entirely devoid of incident and excitement, says Marquette. "From time to time we met monstrous fishes, one of which struck the canoe so violently I took it for a large tree. Another time we perceived on the water a monster [probably an American tiger-cat] with a head like a tiger and a pointed snout like the wild-cat, with beard and ears erect, a grayish head, and entirely black neck." They cast their nets successfully, and once caught a spade-fish, whose appearance caused much astonishment. In 41° 28´ N. latitude (near Rock Island), wild turkeys took the place of wild fowl; while as to animals, only buffalo were seen, being so numerous and fearless as to be easily killed, and thus offering a welcome change of food. These new beasts presented themselves to our explorers as hideous, especially those with thick, long manes falling over their eyes in such tangles as to prevent their seeing clearly. Marquette records that the Indians tan buffalo-skins into beautiful robes, which they paint into various colors; and further recites the ferocity of the buffalo as yearly causing the death of some Indian. When near the present city of Keokuk, at the mouth of the Des Moines River, on June 25th, they perceived the first signs of man in all this solitude: foot-prints by the riverside, and then a beaten path, which, entering a beautiful prairie, impressed them as leading to some Indian village.

They had journeyed seventeen days without seeing the face of man, and so, after deliberation, they resolved to visit the village; this decision doubtless being urged by Marquette, who for years had sought by prayer "to obtain of God the grace to be able to visit the nations on the river Mississippi," and who now would allow no danger to deter him. Joliet was fully aware of the great risk, and took most careful precautions to ensure the safety of their canoes and people by charging them strictly to beware of surprise, while he and Marquette ventured to put themselves at the discretion of an unknown savage people. Cautiously following the little path in silence across the beautiful prairie and through the thickets for a distance of two leagues, they suddenly came in view of an Indian village, picturesquely placed on a river bank, and overlooked by two others on a neighboring hill; they pressed on with successful caution and silence, but with much doubt and fear. Having, as Marquette says, "recommended ourselves to God with all our hearts," and "having implored his help, we passed on undiscovered, and came so near we even heard the Indians talking." Stepping into the open, they halted and announced themselves by a loud cry; at which the Indians rushed out of their cabins, and recognizing them as French, and seeing a "Blackgown" (the well-known Indian name for a Jesuit), sent four of their chief warriors forward. Two chiefs, carrying calumets, or tobacco-pipes, elaborately trimmed with various feathers, advanced very slowly and in silence, lifting their calumets as if offering them for the sun to smoke. Marquette, encouraged by their friendly attitude, and still more on seeing that they wore French cloth, broke the silence; to which the Indians answered that they were Illinois, who, in token of peace, presented their pipes to smoke and invited the strangers to their village.

Joliet and Marquette were received at the door of a wigwam, as was usual for strangers, by an old chief, who stood perfectly naked, with outstretched hands raised toward the sun, as if to screen himself from its rays, which nevertheless passed through the open fingers to his face. As they came near him, he said: "How beautiful is the sun, O Frenchmen, when thou comest to visit us. All our town awaits thee, and thou shalt enter all our cabins in peace." After smoking the calumet, they went by invitation to visit the Great Sachem of all Illinois, at a near village. With good nature and childish curiosity, a throng of Indians went along, and says Marquette, "could not tire looking at us; they threw themselves on the grass by the wayside; they ran ahead, then turned and walked back to see us again, all in silence, with marks of great respect." They were received by the Great Sachem and two old chiefs, all naked and with their calumet turned to the sun. After smoking the calumet, Marquette, speaking in Algonquin, said that they marched in peace to visit the nations on the river to the sea; that God their Creator had pity, and had sent his messenger to make him known as their Creator, whom they should acknowledge and obey; that Frontenac had spread peace everywhere; and last asked for all the information they had of the sea and the nations between them and it.

The Sachem answered in a beautiful speech worthy of the occasion:

"I thank thee, Blackgown, and thee, Frenchman," addressing M. Joliet, "for taking so much pains to come and visit us; never has the earth been so beautiful, nor the sun so bright, as to-day; never has our river been so calm, nor so free from rocks, which your canoes have removed as they passed; never has our tobacco had so fine a flavor, nor our corn appeared so beautiful as we behold it to day. Here is my son, that I give thee, that thou mayst know my heart. I pray thee to take pity on me and all my nation. Thou knowest the Great Spirit, who has made us all; thou speakest to him and hearest his words: ask him to give me life and health, and come and dwell with us, that we may know him."

It is interesting to note the condition of the Illinois when first visited. Their chiefs wore over the left shoulder a belt, ingeniously made of the hair of bear and buffalo, which passed around the waist and ended in a long fringe; arm, knee, and wrist bands of deer or buffalo-skin, and the rattles of deer hoofs were also worn, and the face was painted with red ochre. In addition to abundant game, they raised beans, melons, squashes, and Indian corn. Their dishes were of wood, their spoons of the bones of buffalo, their knives stone, their arms, bows and arrows with an occasional gun bought from other tribes.

The word calumet is due to Father Marquette, and his description of this interesting Indian pipe and its uses among the Indians over two hundred years ago is best given in his own words:

"It now remains for me to speak of the calumet, than which there is nothing among them more mysterious or more esteemed. Men do not pay to the crowns and sceptres of kings the honor they pay to it. It seems to be the god of peace and war, the arbiter of life and death. Carry it about you and show it, and you can march fearlessly amid enemies, who even in the heat of battle lay down their arms when it is shown. Hence the Illinois gave me one, to serve as my safeguard amid all the nations that I had to pass on my voyage. There is a calumet for peace and one for war, distinguished only by the color of the feathers with which they are adorned, red being the sign of war. They use them also for settling disputes, strengthening alliances, and speaking to strangers. It is made of a polished red stone, like marble, so pierced that one end serves to hold the tobacco, while the other is fastened on the stem, which is a stick two feet long, as thick as a common cane, and pierced in the middle; it is ornamented with the head and neck of different birds of beautiful plumage; they also add large feathers of red and green and other colors, with which it is all covered. They esteem it peculiarly, because they regard it as the calumet, or pipe, of the sun; and, in fact, they present it to him to smoke when they wish to obtain calm, or rain, or fair weather."

Leaving the Illinois one afternoon, about the end of June, they embarked in sight of the whole admiring tribe, and, following the river, reached the mouth of the muddy Missouri. They were the first white men who had ever gazed on the turbulent waters of this mighty stream. Impressed by the size and majesty of the Missouri Marquette believed and hoped that later, by making a prairie portage of twenty or thirty leagues, he could reach a deep westerly running river that would carry him to the Red Sea (the Gulf of California).

The Missouri, or Pekitanoui, as Marquette called it, was evidently at the flood stage, for he says: "A mass of large trees, entire with branches, real floating islands, came rushing from the mouth of the river so impetuously that we could not pass across without exposing ourselves to great danger. The agitation was so great that the water was all muddy."

Immediately above the site of Alton, Ill., they came in sight of the famous Piasa pictograph, which was totally destroyed about fifty years ago. Of it Marquette wrote: "As we coasted along rocks, frightful for their height and length, we saw painted thereon two monsters, which startled us at first, and on which the boldest Indian dare not gaze long. They have a fearful look, are as large as a calf, have red eyes, the horns of a deer, the beard of a tiger, and the face of a man, while around the scale-covered body was a fish's tail twice encircling it. The two monsters were very well painted in green, red, and black colors, and so high upon the rocks that they were apparently inaccessible to man."

Later they discovered a very rich iron-mine of many veins, one a foot thick, and large masses of metal combined with pebbles; also purple, violet, and red clay, which colored the water a blood red. They now passed the dreaded home of the Manitou, or demon, who devours all who pass; which proved to be a frightful rapid where large detached rocks and a narrow channel caused a furious commotion of the waters tumbling over each other, and a tremendous roaring, which struck terror to the Indian's heart. Passing this, they reached the mouth of the Ohio, which Marquette calls "Ouaboukidou," on which there were no less than thirty-eight villages of the Chaouanons (Shawnees). A little beyond, Marquette's eye was delighted by the appearance of breaks, wherein the canes were of an exquisite green, with knots crowned by long, narrow-pointed leaves. At every landing the keen eyes of the Canadian explorers searched out everything that was new or that seemed suitable for food; so we find the persimmon and the chicopin and other fruits and nuts described in detail.

By this time, in early July, they found themselves suffering from the double annoyance of mosquitoes and the excessive and insupportable heat of the sun, from which they sheltered themselves as best they could by making a kind of cabin with their sails, while their canoes were borne on by the current.

Finally they perceived on the river-bank Indians armed with guns, who awaited their approach. Joliet, ready either for peace or war, put Marquette forward with his feathered peace calumet upraised, while the rest stood to arms, ready to fire on the first volley of the savages. Marquette hailed them in Huron, and the party was not only peacefully received, but invited to their village and presented with food of various kinds. Joliet found among them guns, axes, hoes, powder, etc., and was assured that they bought cloth and other articles from Europeans to the east, doubtless the Spaniards of Florida. Marquette was troubled to find they had received no instruction in the faith, which, as far as he could, he gave them.

Being assured that the sea was not more than ten days' journey distant, they were greatly encouraged, and instead of drifting with the current, took up their paddles with renewed ardor.

Passing beyond the prairie land, they found both sides of the river lined with dense woods, wherein the cottonwood, elm, and white-wood were of such height and size as to excite their admiration. That the forests were not dense seemed evident from the bellowing of cattle behind the fringe of trees, which were enlivened for our travellers by flocks of quail along the water's edge and an occasional parrot with its brilliant coloring of red, yellow, and green.

Nearing the mouth of the Arkansas, they saw on the river-bank an Indian village called Mithiganea, near which Joliet and his party had an exciting and fearful experience, which Marquette thus describes:

"We heard from afar the Indians exciting one another to the combat by continual yells. They were armed with bows, arrows, axes, war-clubs, and bucklers, and prepared to attack us by land and water. Some embarked in large wooden canoes, a part to ascend, the rest to descend, the river, so as to cut our way and surround us completely. Those on shore kept going and coming, as if about to begin the attack. In fact, some young men sprang into the water to come and seize my canoe, but the current having compelled them to return to the shore, one of them threw his war club at us, but it passed over our heads without doing us any harm. In vain I showed the calumet, and made gestures to explain that we had not come as enemies. The alarm continued, and they were about to pierce us from all sides with their arrows, when God suddenly touched the hearts of the old men on the water side, doubtless at the sight of our calumet, which at the distance they had not distinguished; but as I showed it continually, they were touched, restrained the ardor of their youth, and two of the chiefs, having thrown their bows and quivers into our canoe, and as it were at our feet, entered and brought us to the shore, where we disembarked, not without fear on our part."

An old chief was at last found who spoke a little Illinois, and through him they were told that they could get full information regarding the sea at another great village called Akamsea, about ten leagues down the river. Presents were exchanged and the night passed among them with some uneasiness. The loving missionary spirit of Marquette is shown here for, he says: "I know not whether they understood what I told them of God and the things which concerned their salvation. It is a seed cast in the earth which will bear its fruit in season."

At Akamsea (Arkansas) they were received by the sachem holding up a peace calumet, after which they had the customary smoke and a repast of different dishes made of Indian corn. Presents were interchanged and speeches made through a young Indian who understood Illinois. The whole day was spent in feasting, and the dishes of Indian corn were continuously supplemented by pieces of dog flesh.

Joliet and Marquette learned from them that the sea was only ten days' journey distant for the Indians, which meant five days for our explorers in their birch canoes. They further set forth the very great danger of passing on, owing to the continual war parties moving along the river. A secret council of the sachems with a view to killing the party for plunder was only broken up through the influence of the chief, who, sending for the explorers, danced a calumet dance as a mark of perfect assurance, and then to remove all fears, presented his peace calumet to Marquette as a guarantee of safety.

The famous calumet dance is performed only on important occasions--to strengthen peace, for a war assembly, at public rejoicings, and in honor of important personages or invited strangers. The principal features are, first, a dance; second, a mock combat; third, a self-laudatory speech, during all of which the pipe plays an important part, being smoked and handled to the measured cadence of voices and drums.

Joliet and Marquette now took counsel together as to whether they should continue their voyage in face of such adverse conditions or turn back. Finally, after long and careful consideration it was decided to return.

They realized that in their present latitude, 33° 40´ N., they could not be more than two or three days from the sea, and that the Mississippi, by its general course, undoubtedly flowed into the Gulf of Mexico, and not into the South Sea through California.

Neglecting the dangers from warlike Indians along the lower river, they considered, moreover, that they risked losing the fruit of this voyage if they should throw themselves into the hands of the Spaniards, who would at least imprison them.

Joliet's farthest was on the east bank, opposite a river, probably the Arkansas, and could not have been far from the point where De Soto more than a hundred years before, in April, 1541, reached the Mississippi. What a contrast between the means and experiences of these two explorers! De Soto, a noble Spaniard, with an armament of ten vessels equipped with all the paraphernalia of war, having, with three hundred and fifty horsemen, a thousand picked men in mail who had been chosen from the flower of the Spanish and Portuguese nobility. His followers were animated by ambition, eager seekers for wealth and power, their track marked by fire and sword, their action often treacherous and always characterized by the savageness of their age. They reaped the natural harvest, and although they reached the Mississippi, yet constant warfare, continued privations, toil, and disasters had sadly wasted their strength and numbers, and finally not one man in four ever reached again a Spanish settlement. Joliet, an American of humble birth, with two frail canoes equipped only with an ordinary hunting outfit, had six followers who, inspired by neither hope of gold nor desire of conquest other than that of a spiritual kind, came with peace and confidence, were received by all tribes with hospitality, and returned to their own without harm or contumely.

The result of De Soto's work was an unprofitable, soon-forgotten discovery, utterly barren of results. Joliet reduced the fables of the Indians to facts, discovered the muddy Missouri, and what is more, gave definite knowledge to the world of the fertile valleys of the Mississippi basin, wherein he planted the first germs of civilization, which speedily took the practical form of missions and settlements.

After a day's rest, Joliet and his party left Akamsea July 17th, and tediously retraced their course against the strong currents of the Mississippi. Through the advice of the Indians they quitted the great river at the mouth of the Illinois, which greatly shortened their way and brought them with little trouble to the present site of Chicago, they passing on the way through an Illinois town, Kaskaskia, of seventy-four cabins, from which an escort of braves guided them to Lake Michigan.

Marquette appears to have had a prophetic eye for the great future of the present State of Illinois, for he says, "We have seen nothing like this river for the fertility of the land, its prairies, woods, wild cattle, deer, wild-cats, bustards, swans, ducks, parrots, and even beaver; its many little lakes and rivers."

Coasting the shores of Lake Michigan, the end of September, 1673, brought them to Green Bay, where the rude comforts of a frontier mission and the solace of friendly intercourse were once more theirs. They had been absent four months, and in that time had paddled their frail canoes more than twenty-five hundred miles. Here Marquette remained to recruit his health, impaired by physical hardships, continued exposure, and lack of suitable food. The hardy Joliet lost no time, however, but pressed on, too eager to report his grand discoveries to Frontenac.