not a day passed but the illinois followed with inquisitive eyes the movements of the men at the fort. they watched the great white beams by the river bank as the frenchmen laid them out and fastened them together till the growing ship began to look like the white skeleton of an immense buffalo lying bleached and bare to the four winds of heaven.

omawha, the friendly chief, adopted as a son the short young friar of la salle’s party; and so the gray robe of father membré passed freely in and out of the lodges of the village. like one of the chief’s family, he ate of the indian fare and slept on buffalo robes beside smouldering lodge-fires. his fellow-whites were at the new fort; and he alone watched the coming of spring in the indian town.

as winter began to break up, the hunting parties came home. the war party from the south brought captives with them, and the village became more populous. but chassagoac, the indefatigable hunter, was still off in the woods.

even in the long stretches of the indian country, winterlocked and drear, news traveled fast; and the illinois well knew that runners were carrying all up and down the great valley tales of the white men among the peorias, of the fort on the hill, and of the ship that was to sail down the long river. it was, therefore, with concern that the peorias saw one day a gathering of indians encamped about the fort. they were osages and chickasaws and arkansas—tribes that lived along the mississippi far to the south. and the villagers knew that they—jealous of the advantages of the illinois—would tell the white chief of the easy navigation of the river and urge him to come down and live in their country.

not many days passed before another group of indians arrived, this time from the far west—so far beyond the mississippi river that they told of long-haired spaniards who rode to war on horses and fought with lances. one of the indians proudly wore at his belt a tobacco pouch made from the hoof of a horse with some of the skin of the leg attached. a week later came still another delegation to see the far-famed whites. they were sioux from the distant northwest, in the land where the mississippi took its rise; and they were long-time foes of the tribes of the illinois.

in the councils of the illinois indians there was much debate. each chief had his own opinion. it was a time of new and strange happenings. long had the illinois tribe lived proud and comfortable in the valley. they had hunted and fished up and down the rivers at their will. in the open spaces before their arbor-like lodges they gambled and smoked and basked in the summer days, the bright sun warming their naked bodies. and when they were tired of basking, they put on their garments of red and black paint, gathered howling in the war dance, and set out on a raid against the sacs and foxes west of the lake of the illinois, or the sioux by the headwaters of the mississippi, or the osages and arkansas and other tribes on its southern banks. often, too, war came to them, and sometimes so desperate that even the indian women fought hand to hand with the enemy in the spaces between the lodges of the village.

but of late years had come new dangers. faint whisperings reached them of white-faced men who brought from across the sea weapons that roared like the thunder and smote their victims like bolts of lightning. their ancient enemies, the iroquois, bought these weapons with furs and carried their ravages upon the western tribes with increased deadliness. then they learned that the white men themselves were beginning to appear on the great lakes—first at the eastern end, but finally on the shores of lake superior and the lake of the illinois.

by and by there pushed out from the lakes into the valleys of the wisconsin and the illinois, and even as far as the upper mississippi, the black-robed priest and the lone fur trader. restless coureurs de bois floated down the rivers in greater numbers. they set up cabins and wintered in the lands which once the indians alone knew. priests, having come to visit, came again to stay. soldiers and explorers pierced the far wilderness. strange canoes shot up and down the waters. the ringing of axes sounded in the woods, and forts sprang up. these new bold habitants brought hatchets that put the old stone clubs to shame, kettles such as the indians had never dreamed of, knives with a deadly edge, blankets of bright color and fine texture—and the childlike heart of the indian was made glad.

a new force had come upon the land and the end of the old days was at hand. no indian fully realized it. the novelty of the white man’s ways and the charm of his gifts shortened their vision, and so they lived each in the eventful present. but as surely as the river flowed down to the sea, the great valley was passing out of their grasp. the wide reaches of meadow, the leagues of hill and plain, the waters that ran past a thousand hills, virgin forest for their game, live soil for their corn, all the freedom and bounty of the greatest valley in the world had been theirs—a valley to roam over at will, to hunt in with the changing seasons, to fight for in the glory of battle among themselves.

the red men did not know that things were really going to be different, for they were not wise in prophecy. but they were restless in mind and they felt some of the dangers of the present; for like children they feared a power they could not understand.

among the illinois tribes this vague fear rose and then died out in the more placid courses of their lives. then lurking suspicion seized upon some event and all was alarm again. so it was with other tribes, for fierce courage and abject terror alternated in the indian mind.

over on the shores of the fox river and about the foot of the lake of the illinois lived the nation of miamis. they were relatives of the illinois tribes as well as neighbors, and their language was much the same. the fear of the iroquois, armed with white men’s weapons, had seized such firm hold upon them that once they migrated to the mississippi. but in a time of peace they had wandered back to their former homes. now and then trouble arose between miami and illinois, and for years they waged war upon each other.

the secret embassy of monso with his miami followers left the illinois uneasy. how did the miamis know so much about the iroquois? if the iroquois came, would the miamis join them against the people of the illinois? and what would la salle and tonty and the men at the fort do? round and round went question and answer as the spring came on. soon would chassagoac, their greatest chief, be back with his hunters. perhaps his wisdom might help them.

in the meantime they went about their duties and pleasures in the village. the end of february, 1680, came, and on the last day of the month they saw a great stirring—an unusual bustling about and strutting up and down on the part of the gray-robed hennepin. finally he planted his figure solidly in a canoe laden with skins and weapons and knives and kettles. the veteran woodsman, michael ako, was with him and antoine auguel—called the picard by his comrades because he came from picardy in france. bidding good-bye to those on the bank, the three men slipped swiftly down the current and out of sight. what new move was this?

the indians wondered until the next day when the village welcomed the return of one of its hunting parties, just arrived from down the river. they had passed ako and his fellows about sundown the night before and tried to persuade them to return. but no, they were bound for the land of the sioux, where ako meant to trade in furs and learn of the country; and the affable friar pronounced himself bound to undertake the great perils of an unknown land to preach to the indians of the upper mississippi. so the red hunters let them pass—the boastful friar and his two companions. little did the three know what experiences were to befall them before they saw again the lights of white men’s cabins.

on the day that the hunters returned, those who watched the fort saw two other canoes set out, this time going up the river. here was a still more important event, for in one of the boats was the figure of la salle himself. six frenchmen were with him, and also a mohegan warrior whom they called the wolf, from the name of his people. the indians waited in wonderment. was the fort being deserted? not yet, for the mysterious tonty, his arm swinging heavily at his side, passed about among the men at the fort giving orders in the absence of his chief.