class="x-ebookmaker-pageno" title="24"/> 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.

The Reception of Joliet and Marquette by the Illinois.

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,