[
156]
the cold extremity of
Michigan, entered, with equal
humility, upon a career which exposed his life to perpetual danger, and, by its results, affected the destiny of nations.
The enterprise projected by
Marquette had been favored by Talon, the intendant of New France, who, on the point of quitting
Canada, wished to signalize the last period of his stay by ascertaining if the
French, descending the great river of the central west, could bear the banner of
France to the
Pacific, or plant it, side by side with that of
Spain, on the
Gulf of Mexico.
A branch of the Potawatomies, familiar with Mar
quette as a missionary, heard with wonder the daring proposal.
‘Those distant nations,’ said they, ‘never spare the strangers; their mutual wars fill their borders with bands of warriors; the
Great River abounds in monsters, which devour both men and canoes; the excessive heats occasion death.’—‘I shall gladly lay down my life for the salvation of souls,’ replied the good father; and the docile nation joined him in prayer.
At the last village on
Fox River ever visited by the
French,—where Kickapoos, Mascoutins, and Miamis dwelt together on a beautiful hill in the centre of prairies and magnificent groves, that extended as far as the eye could reach, and where
Allouez had already raised the cross, which the savages had ornamented with brilliant skins and crimson belts, a thank-offering to the Great Manitou,—the ancients assembled in council to receive the pilgrims.
‘My companion,’ said
Marquette, ‘is an envoy of
France to discover new countries; and I am ambassador from God to enlighten them with the gospel;’ and, offering presents, he begged two guides
