hould again be assailed. The passage
against the rapid current was necessarily very slow. The Indians had
large wooden boats, which they could fill with warriors, and being
above them on the river, could completely cut off their retreat.

La Salle sent one of the canoes forward to reconnoitre. As his Indian
boatmen were paddling cautiously along beneath the dense foliage of the
banks, they caught sight of four women. Under the perilous
circumstances, it was thought best to capture them, if possible, and
hold them as hostages for the good behavior of the tribe. This was not
doing evil that good might come, for the measure was fully justifiable,
in view of the attack which had been made upon them, and as the only
means of preventing the effusion of blood.

The men landed, and the swift runners caught the women and took them
back to the fleet. It was then learned that the Quinnipissa Indians, a
peculiarly warlike and ferocious race, had a large village but a little
distance farther up the river. This village it was necessary to pass.
There could be no doubt that the savages would fiercely assail them. As
they could probably bring many hundred warriors into the conflict, and
could make the attack not only from their capacious periaguas, but also
from the shelter of the trees on the bank, the situation of the French
seemed quite desperate.

La Salle, in this emergence, drew his canoes to the shore, a little
below the village, and on the opposite bank. He hoped, by the aid of
his captives, to open some communication with the foe. But the Indians
had already learned of his approach. Again the hideous clamor of
demoniac war was heard, as the noise of their rude drums and savage
yells fell upon the ear.

It was early in the afternoon of a day of almost tropical warmth and
serenity, when all the voices of nature seemed to invite man to love
and help his brother. Soon quite a fleet of massive boats was seen,
descending the river, each boat crowded with twenty or thirty warriors,
plumed and painted, and armed with bows and arrows, javelins, and
clubs. They were yelling like demons, as if expecting by noise to rouse
their courage to the highest point.

La Salle himself, with two or three picked companions, pushed out in a
canoe, and advanced to meet them. Though one or two guns were in the
bottom of the canoe, to be used in case of absolute necessity, they
appeared entirely unarmed--a single canoe advancing to meet a fleet. La