Joliet and Marquette selected five men to go with them, and fitted up two birch-bark canoes, putting in a supply of smoked meat and Indian corn. Having found out from the Indians the best route, they started on the 17th of May. Paddling the canoes, they kept along the northern shore, landing each evening to camp and to build a fire in the edge of the forest. Having reached the Menominee River, they went up the stream to a village of the Menominee, or Wild-rice Indians. These Indians, on hearing that they wanted to go in search of the great river, tried to discourage them, saying that the tribes on the river were savage and would kill them, that there was a monster in the stream that would swallow up their boat and men, and that the river became hot to the south. The travellers did not listen to these stories, but went on to Green Bay, where they found a mission, and then entered Fox River. It was hard work to drag the boats up the long rapids, but at last they reached Lake Winnebago and then the river to the west. The river wound its way among swamps of wild rice upon which many water-fowl were feeding. They reached an Indian town built upon a high hill with many prairies and woods in sight. Marquette was delighted to find a cross standing in the middle of the place, "decorated with a number of dressed deerskins, and girdles, and bows and arrows, which they had hung upon it as an offering to the great Manitou of the French."
Calling a council of the Indian chiefs, file explorers asked for guides to the Mississippi. Tile Indians gave them two guides and when they were ready to go, all the people came down to the shore to see them depart. The guides pointed out the way through winding currents and swamps of wild rice, till they reached the portage. Carrying their canoes a mile and a half across the prairie and marshes, they launched them in the Wisconsin and began the voyage into an unknown world. Perhaps they would reach the Pacific Ocean, or the Gulf of Mexico, or California. They glided down the valley of the Wisconsin, viewing the islands, forests, and bluffs. Landing in the evening, they usually kindled a fire, turned the boats upside down, roasted their meat before the fire, and after smoking their pipes, lay down to rest upon skins and blankets.
About the middle of June the voyagers were filled with joy by the sight of the current of the Mississippi, into which they steered their little boats. Floating down the Mississippi, they were surprised at a huge catfish dashing against the side of the boat, and were reminded of the Indian story of the monster. Drawing in their fish-net one day, they saw in it a strange kind of fish now called the spade-fish.Later on they saw great herds of buffalo, with their shaggy manes, grazing on the wide prairies. Fearing they might meet savage tribes, they no longer landed at night, but anchored their boat in the river and chose one to guard while the others slept. For two weeks they had met no one and had seen no signs of Indians.
One day the explorers saw footprints in the mud on the western bank and a path leading up to the prairies. Joliet and Marquette decided to follow this path, leaving the five men to guard the boats. It was a pleasant day, and the two men followed the path for several miles across the prairies and through the woods till they came in sight of a village on the bank of a river. They were not seen, though they could hear the voices of the Indians talking in the village. Standing out in full view, they shouted to make the Indians look at them, and great was the stir in the village when the Indians began to crowd out to see the strangers. Four chief men soon came forward, holding the peace-pipe decorated with feathers. The Frenchmen were pleased to see the Indians wearing articles of French cloth, and thought they must be friendly. Being asked who they were, the Indians replied they were the Illinois, and offered the peace-pipe. After smoking, all entered the village together. Here the chief did the visitors honor in a strange manner. Standing naked in his tent door, he raised both hands to shield his eyes, and said: "Frenchmen, how bright the sun shines when you come to visit us! All our village awaits you and you shall enter our wigwams in peace." They were then led into the smoky wigwam, crowded with Indians, who stared at them in silence. Having smoked with the chiefs and old men, they were invited to visit the great chief of all the Illinois, at one of the villages they had seen in the distance. They went, followed by a throng of warriors, squaws, and children. On arriving there, they were forced to smoke again and to listen to a speech of welcome from the great chief, who delivered it standing between two old men, naked like himself. Marquette, who could speak in the Indian language, first said that he had come to them as a messenger from God, whom they ought to obey, then told them of Frontenac, the governor of Canada, and asked them about the Mississippi River and the tribes along its banks. The chief replied, saying, they were welcome, "that their presence added flavor to his tobacco, made the river more calm, and the sky more blue, and the earth more beautiful." Then he gave them a slave and asked them not to go down the Mississippi.
A feast of four courses now followed. First a wooden bowl full of a porridge of Indian meal, boiled with grease, was set before the guests, and an Indian fed them like little children, with a large spoon. Then came a platter of fish, and the same man carefully rernoved the bones with his fingers, and, blowing on the morsels to cool them, placed them in the mouths of the two Frenchmen. A large dog, killed and cooked for the occasion, was next placed before them. But their appetites were not strong enough for this and soon it was removed for a dish of fat buffalo meat, which ended the feast. The crowd having scattered, buffalo robes were spread on the ground, and the Frenchmen slept there for the night. In the morning the chief, with six hundred of his tribe, led them to their canoes and bade them a friendly farewell.
Drifting slowly down the great river, they passed the mouth of the Illinois River, and saw farther down the line of rocks called by some the ruined castles. Below this they saw, on the flat surface of a high rock, two painted figures, a pair of monsters, each "as large as a calf, with horns like a deer, red eyes, beard like a tiger, and a frightful expression of countenance. The face is something like that of a man, the body is covered with scales; the tail so long that it passes entirely round the body over the head and between the legs, ending like that of a fish." The Frenchmen were frightened at first by these pictures of the painted Indian god, or manitou.
Suddenly they were astonished by a swift current of muddy water rushing into the Mississippi from the west. It is the Missouri, which rolls into the Mississippi, logs, branches, and muddy water. Their light canoes were whirled around like leaves in the current. At. first they were frightened, but kept down the river without further danger. After passing the mouth of the Ohio, or Beautiful River, the banks were low and covered with a great growth of tall cane. The weather was very hot and the mosquitoes tormented them night and day. Seeing some Indians on the shore, they were much frightened, but held out the peace-pipe, which the Indians gladly saw and then invited them to land. "They were acquainted with white people, for they were armed with guns, knives, and hatchets, wore garments of cloth, and carried their gunpowder in small bottles of thick glass. The Indians feasted the Frenchmen with buffalo meat, bear's oil, and white plums," and told them falsely that they could reach the mouth of the river in ten days.
Passing on down the river three hundred miles farther, the voyagers neared the mouth of the Arkansas, and saw a cluster of wigwams on the west shore. The Indians, on seeing them, yelled the war-whoop, and snatching their weapons, ran to the shore to meet the strangers, who felt themselves in great danger. Several large canoes, filled with savages, put out from the shore, above and below them, and a swarm of young warriors waded into the water to attack them. But the current was too deep and one of them threw his war-club, which passed over the heads of the Frenchmen. Marquette held up the peace-pipe, but the savages, paying no heed to it, strung their bows and aimed their arrows. But now the elders of the village came down, called back the young men, and seeing the peace-pipe, invited the Frenchmen to land. They did so with trembling and were better treated than they expected. After a feast of mush and fish, the Frenchmen, in much fear, spent the night in the Indian lodges. The next day, several miles lower down, they visited the village of the Indian chief. Before his lodge was a sort of platform, and the ground in front of it was covered with rush mats for the strangers. The men were naked and wore strings of beads in their noses and ears. There was in the village a young Indian who could talk the Illinois language. Through him Marquette talked with the chief and gave presents to the Indians, who feasted the Frenchmen in return. While the speeches were going on, the Indians kept bringing food,—mush, boiled corn, and sometimes a roasted dog. The Indians had large earthen pots and platters made by themselves with tolerable skill, as well as hatchets, knives, and beads bought from the French and Spanish traders. All day they kept up the feast. The Indians said that the lower Mississippi was lined with hostile Indians who were armed with guns obtained from the white men, and that they were so much afraid of these savages that they dared not hunt the buffalo, but lived on corn, of which they raised three crops a year.
The Frenchmen now took counsel as to what was best to be done. They feared the Indians and Spaniards, and though they would gladly have seen the mouth of the river, they were sure it flows into the Gulf of Mexico, and this was a most important discovery. Having decided, therefore, to return up the Mississippi, they left the Indian village near the mouth of the Arkansas and started homeward the 17th of July. It was a hard trip, against the strong current of the great river, in the heat of summer. Rowing all day and camping at night in the damp, unhealthful vapors, Marquette was taken sick, and suffered all the long, toilsome journey with languor and weakness. When at last the Frenchmen came to the mouth of the Illinois, they turned their boats up this river and enjoyed its forests, prairies, and gentle current. They stopped at an Indian village of seventy lodges, each of which had several fires and families of the Illinois tribe. A young chief offered to guide them to Lake Michigan. After a weary journey, carrying their canoes part of the way, they reached the lake and rowed northward along its shores. It was September when they reached the station at Green Bay. They had been absent four months and had travelled more than twenty-five hundred miles.
Marquette stayed at the mission at Green Bay, as he was not strong enough to go farther. Joliet resolved to carry the maps, papers, and news of their voyage of discovery to Frontenac, governor of Canada, at Quebec. He travelled in a canoe down the Lakes, past Detroit and Niagara, till he came to the St. Lawrence. He had been very fortunate thus far; but at the foot of the rapids of La Chine, just above Montreal, his canoe was upset, two of his men and an Indian boy were drowned, all his papers were lost, and Joliet barely escaped with his life. But he was thankful for life and was able to make a report of their voyage to the governor. In a letter to the governor he says: "I had escaped every peril from the Indians; I had passed forty-two rapids, and was on the point of disembarking, full of joy at the success of so long and difficult an enterprise,—when my canoe capsized after all the danger seemed over. I lost two men and my box of papers, within sight of the first French settlements, which I had left almost two years before."
Marquette's health was so poor that he stayed during the winter and next summer at the mission at Green. Bay. He desired greatly to return to the Illinois Indians to preach among them and establish a Christian mission. In October of the next year he set out with two French companions in a boat on his journey to the Illinois. Two bands of Pottawatomies and of Illinois Indians joined them, making in all ten canoes. The weather was so stormy that it took them a month to follow the coast of Like Michigan as far as the Chicago River. They went up this river a few miles, when Marquette was taken sick again with bleeding at the lungs. He told his companions that this would be his last journey. It being impossible for Marquette to travel farther, his two companions built a log hut near the bank, and here they spent the winter. There was plenty of game, and the men brought in venison, buffalo, and turkey. Marquette spent his time in prayers and religious devotions, and was so much recovered that in March they set out for the Illinois tribes on the Illinois River. The canoe was carried through mud and water to the Des Plaines, and floating down this, they reached the Illinois. On its bank, not far from the present town of Ottawa, was a large Indian village.
Marquette had been among these people before and was received by them with great joy. He passed from wigwam to wigwam, preaching among them, and then invited them all to a council. "It took place near the town, on the great meadow which lies between the river and the modern village of Utica. Here five hundred old men and chiefs were seated in a ring. Behind stood hundred young men and warriors, and behind these again all the women and children of the village." After he had preached to them and they had received his word with kindness, they begged him to stay among them to teach them; but his life was fast ebbing away and he must depart. He hoped to reach Mackinac before his death.
With his two companions he set out again and reached Lake Michigan, escorted thus far by the grateful Indians. Then the two Frenchmen rowed slowly northward along the eastern shore, while Marquette lay weak and sick in the boat. He was cheerful and happy, though he felt that his last hour was approaching. As they passed the mouth of a small river, Marquette asked his companions to land and there they built a bark hut for the sick man. He gave directions for his burial, asked forgiveness for all the trouble he had caused them, and thanked God that he had been allowed to die in the wilderness as a missionary of the faith. That night he quietly passed away. His companions then carried the report of his death to Mackinac.
The nest winter a party of Ottawa Indians, after a hunting trip along Lake Michigan, remembered Marquette. They found his grave, took up his bones, and put them carefully into a box of birch bark. "Then in a procession of thirty canoes they bore it, singing funeral songs, to St. Ignace, at Mackinac. As they approached, priests, Indians, and traders all thronged to the shore. The relics of Marquette were recuivA with solemn ceremony and buried beneath the floor of the little chapel of the mission."