e party then set out on the search.
They moved in various directions; hallooed, and fired their guns. All
was in vain. Night had settled over the prairie, when they reassembled
in great despondency at the canoe. Father Gabriel was greatly loved. He
was a gentle, self-sacrificing man, of kindly words and generous deeds.

The party crossed the river, as a precaution against an attack from any
band of the Iroquois who might be following them. They then built a
large fire, that its rays, shining far and wide over the prairie, might
arrest the eye of the lost one, and guide him on his return. The
morning dawned. Still there was no clue to the disappearance of Father
Gabriel. The voyagers returned to the other side of the river, and
lingered there until the middle of the forenoon.

Lieutenant Tonti then said that it was clear that their companion had
not wandered into the prairie and become lost; for from any of the
eminences he could have discerned the line of the river, nor could he
have wandered so far as neither to have heard the report of their guns
nor seen the light of their fire. It was certain that he had either
been cut off by some prowling band of savages, or that he had decided
to follow up the banks of the river on foot, intending to enter the
canoe when it came along. In either case it was their duty to press
forward on their journey as rapidly as possible.

For a long time they heard no more of Father Gabriel. Finally they
learned that some young savages, of the Kikapoo tribe, who were at war
with the Iroquois, were prowling about when they caught sight of the
father engaged in his devotions in the grove. His eyes were probably
closed, and his whole soul absorbed in prayer. There is one advantage
which the arrow has over the bullet. It performs its deadly mission
without making any noise. The wily savages, unseen and unheard, crept
near, and piercing him with their arrows he fell dead. They took his
scalp, threw the body into a ditch, covering it with a few leaves, and
fled. When they arrived at their village they very boastfully exhibited
the scalp of the defenceless missionary, as that of an Iroquois
warrior. To obtain this renown was the only object of the cowardly
assassins in their murderous deed.

Thus died Father Gabriel. He was the last scion of a noble family of
Burgundy. He had renounced his inheritance, and all the brilliant
prospects of a courtly life, to consecrate himself to the service of
his