The Mississippi Bubble Part 19

"Nay, now, I can live as long on fish and flesh as any man," replied Jean Breboeuf, stoutly, "nor do I hold myself, Monsieur Tete Gris, one jot in courage back of any man upon the trail."

"Of course not, save in time of storm," grinned Tete Gris. "Then, it is 'Holy Mary, witness my vow of a bale of beaver!' It is--"

"Well, so be it," said Jean Breboeuf, stoutly. "'Tis sure a bale of beaver will come easily enough in these new lands; and--though I insist again that I have naught of superst.i.tion in my soul--when a raven sits on a tree near camp and croaks of a morning before breakfast--as upon my word of honor was the case this morning--there must be some ill fate in store for us, as doth but stand to reason."

"But say you so?" said Tete Gris, pausing at his task, with his face a.s.suming a certain seriousness.

"a.s.suredly," said Jean Breboeuf. "'Tis as I told you. Moreover, I insist to you, my brothers, that the signs have not been right for this trip at any time. For myself, I look for nothing but disaster."

The humor of Jean Breboeuf's very gravity appealed so strongly to his older comrades that they broke out into laughter, and so all fell again to their tasks, in sheer light-heartedness forgetting the superst.i.tions of their cla.s.s.

Thus at length the party took s.h.i.+p again, and in time made the head of the great bay within whose arms they had been for some time encamped.

They won up over the sullen rapids of the river which came into the bay, toiling sometimes waist-deep at the _cordelle_, yet complaining not at all. So in time they came out on the wide expanse of the shallow lake of the Winnebagoes, which body of water they crossed directly, coming into the quiet channel of the stream which fell in upon its western sh.o.r.e. Up this stream in turn steadily they pa.s.sed, amid a panorama filled with constant change. Sometimes the gentle river bent away in long curves, with hardly a ripple upon its placid surface, save where now and again some startled fish sprang into the air in fright or sport, or in the rush upon its prey. Then the stream would lead away into vast seas of marsh lands, waving in illimitable reaches of rushes, or fringed with the unspeakably beautiful green of the graceful wild rice plant.

In these wide levels now and again the channel divided, or lost itself in little _cul de sacs_, from which the paddlers were obliged to retrace their way. All about them rose myriads of birds and wild fowl, which made their nests among these marshes, and the babbling chatter of the rail, the high-keyed calling of the coot, or the clamoring of the home-building mallard a.s.sailed their ears hour after hour as they pa.s.sed on between the leafy sh.o.r.es. Then, again, the channel would sweep to one side of the marsh, and give view to wide vistas of high and rolling lands, dotted with groves of hardwood, with here and there a swamp of cedar or of tamarack. Little herds of elk and droves of deer fed on the gra.s.s-covered slopes, as fat, as sleek and fearless of mankind as though they dwelt domesticated in some n.o.ble park.

It was a land obviously but little known, even to the most adventurous, and as chance would have it, they met not even a wandering party of the native tribes. Clearly now the little boat was climbing, climbing slowly and gently, yet surely, upward from the level of the great Lake Michiganon. In time the little river broadened and flattened out into wide, shallow expanses, the waters known as the Lakes of the Foxes; and beyond that it became yet more shallow and uncertain, winding among quaking bogs and unknown marshes; yet still, whether by patience, or by cheerfulness, or by determination, the craft stood on and on, and so reached that end of the waterway which, in the opinion of the more experienced Du Mesne, must surely be the place known among the Indian tribes as the "Place for the carrying of boats."

Here they paused for a few days, at that mild summit of land which marks the portage between the east bound and the west bound waters; yet, impelled ever by the eager spirit of the adventurer, they made their pause but short. In time they launched their craft on the bright, smooth flood of the river of the Ouisconsins, stained coppery-red by its far-off, unknown course in the north, where it had bathed leagues of the roots of pine and tamarack and cedar. They pa.s.sed on steadily westward, hour after hour, with the current of this great stream, among little islands covered with timber; pa.s.sed along bars of white sand and flats of hardwood; beyond forest-covered knolls, in the openings of which one might now and again see great vistas of a scenery now peaceful and now bold, with turreted knolls and sweeping swards of green, as though some n.o.ble house of old England were set back secluded within these wide and well-kept grounds. The country now rapidly lost its marshy character, and as they approached the mouth of the great stream, it being now well toward the middle of the summer, they reached, suddenly and without forewarning, that which they long had sought.

The st.u.r.dy paddlers were bending to their tasks, each broad back swinging in unison forward and back over the thwart, each brown throat bared to the air, each swart head uncovered to the glare of the midday sun, each narrow-bladed paddle keeping unison with those before and behind, the hand of the paddler never reaching higher than his chin, since each had learned the labor-saving fas.h.i.+on of the Indian canoeman.

The day was bright and cheery, the air not too ardent, and across the coppery waters there stretched slants of shadow from the embowering forest trees. They were alone, these travelers; yet for the time at least part of them seemed care-free and quite abandoned to the sheer zest of life. There arose again, after the fas.h.i.+on of the _voyageurs_, the measure of the paddling song, without which indeed the paddler had not been able to perform his labor at the thwart.

"_Dans mon chemin j'ai rencontre_--"

chanted the leader; and voices behind him responded l.u.s.tily with the next line:

"_Trois cavaliers bien montes_--"

"_Trois cavaliers bien montes_--"

chanted the leader again.

"_L'un a cheval et l'autre a pied_--"

came the response; and then the chorus:

"_Lon, lon laridon daine-- Lon, lon laridon dai!_"

The great boat began to move ahead steadily and more swiftly, and bend after bend of the river was rounded by the rus.h.i.+ng prow. None knew this country, nor wist how far the journey might carry him. None knew as of certainty that he would ever in this way reach the great Messasebe; or even if he thought that such would be the case, did any one know how far that Messasebe still might be. Yet there came a time in the afternoon of that day, even as the chant of the _voyageurs_ still echoed on the wooded bluffs, and even as the great birch-bark s.h.i.+p still responded swiftly to their gaiety, when, on a sudden turn in the arm of the river, there appeared wide before them a scene for which they had not been prepared. There, rippling and rolling under the breeze, as though itself the arm of some great sea, they saw a majestic flood, whose real nature and whose name each man there knew on the instant and instinctively.

"Messasebe! Messasebe!" broke out the voices of the paddlers.

"Stop the paddles!" cried Du Mesne. "_Voila_!"

John Law rose in the bow of the boat and uncovered his head. It was a n.o.ble prospect which lay before him. His was the soul of the adventurer, quick to respond to challenge. There was a fluttering in his throat as he stood and gazed out upon this solemn, mysterious and tremendous flood, coming whence, going whither, none might say. He gazed and gazed, and it was long before the shadow crossed his face and before he drew a sigh.

"Madam," said he, at length, turning until he faced Mary Connynge, "this is the West. We have chosen, and we have arrived!"

CHAPTER V

MESSASEBE

The boat, now lacking its propelling power, drifted on and out into the clear tide of the mighty stream. The paddlers were idle, and silence had fallen upon all. The rush of this majestic flood, steady, mysterious, secret-keeping, created a feeling of awe and wonder. They gazed and gazed again, up the great waterway, across to its farther sh.o.r.e, along its rolling course below, and still each man forgot his paddle, and still the little s.h.i.+p of New France drifted on, just rocking gently in the mimic waves which ruffled the face of the mighty Father of the Waters.

"By our Lady!" cried Du Mesne, at length, and tears stood in his tan-framed eyes as he turned, "'tis true, all that has been said! Here it is, Messasebe, more mighty than any story could have told! Monsieur L'as, 'tis big enough to carry s.h.i.+ps."

"'Twill carry fleets of them one day, Du Mesne," replied John Law. "'Tis a roadway fit for a nation. Ah, Du Mesne! our St. Lawrence, our New France--they dwindle when compared to this new land."

"Aye! and 'tis all our own!" cried Du Mesne. "Look; for the last ten days we have scarce seen even the smoke of a wigwam, and, so far as I can tell, there is not in all this valley now the home of a single white man. My friend Du L'hut--he may be far north of the Superior to-day for aught we know, or somewhere among the Sauteur people. If there he any man below us, let some one else tell who that may be. Sir, I promise you, when I see this big water going on so fast and heading so far away from home--well, I admit it causes me to s.h.i.+ver!"

"'Tis much the same," said Law, "where home may be for me."

"Ah, but 'tis different on the Lakes," said Du Mesne, "for there we always knew the way back, and knew that 'twas down stream."

"He says well," broke in Mary Connynge. "There is something in this big river that chills me. I am afraid."

"And what say you, Tete Gris, and you, Pierre Noir?" asked Law.

"Why, myself," replied the former, "I am with the captain. It matters not. There must always be one trail from which one does not return."

"_Oui_," said Pierre Noir. "To be sure, we have pa.s.sed as good beaver country as heart of man could ask; but never was land so good but there was better just beyond."

"They say well, Du Mesne," spoke John Law, presently; "'tis better on beyond. Suppose we never do return? Did I not say to you that I would leave this other world as far behind me as might be?"

"_Eh bien_, Monsieur L'as, you reply with spirit, as ever," replied Du Mesne, "and it is not for me to stand in the way. My own fortune and family are also with me, and home is where my fire is lit."

"Very well," replied Law. "Let us run the river to its mouth, if need be. 'Tis all one to me. And whether we get back or not, 'tis another tale."

"Oh, I make no doubt we shall win back if need be," replied Du Mesne.

"'Tis said the savages know the ways by the Divine River of the Illini to the foot of Michiganon; and that, perhaps, might be our best way back to the Lakes and to the Mountain with our beaver. We shall, provided we reach the Divine River, as I should guess by the stories I have heard, be then below the Illini, the Ottawas and the Miamis, with I know not what tribes from west of the Messasebe. 'Tis for you to say, Monsieur L'as, but for my own part--and 'tis but a hazard at best--I would say remain here, or press on to the river of the Illini."

"'Tis easy of decision, then," replied Law, after a moment of reflection. "We take that course which leads us farther on at least.

Again the paddles, my friends! To-night we sup in our own kingdom.

Strike up the song, Du Mesne!"

A shout of approval broke from the hardy men along the boat side, and even Jean Breboeuf tossed up his cap upon his paddle shaft.

"Forward, then, _mes amis_!" cried Du Mesne, setting his own paddle-blade deep into the flood. "_En roulant ma boule, roulant_--"

Again the chorus rose, and again the hardy craft leaped onward into the unexplored.

Day after day following this the journey was resumed, and day after day the travelers with eager eyes witnessed a prospect of continual change.

The bluffs, bolder and more gigantic, towered more precipitous than the banks of the gentler streams which they had left behind. Forests ranged down to the sh.o.r.es, and wide, green-decked islands crept into view, and little timbered valleys of lesser streams came marching down to the imposing flood of Messasebe. Again the serrated bluffs broke back and showed vast vistas of green savannas, covered with tall, waving gra.s.ses, broken by little rolling hills, over which crossed herds of elk, and buffalo, and deer.