this
feeble little garrison were well aware, that in all probability bands
of the young men would pursue them, to lie in ambush at some narrow
passage of the river, and cut them off, if possible.

They left the fort about noon, packing in their canoe only a few
articles of absolute necessity. All the afternoon they plied their
paddles vigorously, ascending the Illinois River, and passing through
the broad expanse of Lake Peoria. Their canoe was leaky and heavily
laden. The current was strong, and their passage slow. They did not
venture to land until after dark, that the landing might not be seen by
any foe, skulking through the forest along the banks of the river. They
also took the precaution to seek their night's encampment on the side
of the stream opposite that which was occupied by the Iroquois band.

At an early hour the next morning they resumed their voyage, still
ascending the Illinois River. They had paddled along but a few hours,
and had reached a point between twenty-five and thirty miles above the
fort, when their dilapidated canoe leaked so badly, that they were
forced to land, that they might repair it. They were on the borders of
one of Illinois' most beautiful prairies. The smooth and verdant
expanse, extending to the horizon, was dotted with groves, presenting a
landscape of enchanting loveliness.

Father Gabriel, as he could be of no service in repairing the boat,
decided to walk into one of the groves at a little distance from the
river, with his prayer-book in his hand, that he might, alone in those
lonely solitudes, worship his Creator. It was a temple for devout
meditation and adoration such as no cathedral reared by man's hand ever
presented.

It took all day to repair the canoe. Hour after hour passed away, and
Father Gabriel did not return. His companions began to feel a little
solicitude about his safety. Toward evening Father Membre set out in
search of him. He was not in the grove. There were no traces of him to
be seen. There were several groves in the distance; and there were
gentle eminences in the rolling prairie, behind which he might be
concealed. The anxious father ascended one after another of these
eminences, but nowhere over the vast plain could he catch any sight of
the lost one. Again and again he shouted. The silence of the prairie
was the only response to his cry.

Greatly alarmed, he returned to his companions, who had now completed
their repairs of the canoe. The whol