ching footsteps. But La Salle made it manifest that they were all
on the alert, and the foe, if there were any foe approaching, drew off.

The alarm was doubtless groundless. The next morning there was a
repetition of all the tokens of friendship which were manifested the
evening before. Continuing their route about thirty miles, they came to
another Indian village. The savages seemed to have no suspicions
whatever of the strangers. A party, seeing them approaching in the
distance, came out to meet them as if they were old friends. They
seemed to be quite gentlemanly men in their courteous and polished
demeanor. They gave the strangers an earnest invitation to visit their
village.

These Indians had heard of the Spaniards, and of the atrocities of
which they were guilty farther west. They were quite overjoyed when
told that the French were at war with the Spaniards; and were quite
eager to raise an army and march with the French to attack them. La
Salle entered into a cordial alliance with these Indians, who were
called the Kironas. He promised that he would eventually, if it were in
his power, return with more numerous troops.

It would appear that La Salle was now convinced that he would not find
the Mississippi by journeying further west; for he turned his steps
toward the northeast. There was a large river near the village, across
which the hospitable Indians paddled them in their boats. As they were
crossing a beautiful prairie, their Indian companion, whose name was
Nika, called out suddenly, "I am dead! I am dead."

A venomous snake had bitten him, and the limb began instantly to throb
and swell. In rude surgery, they, with their pocket-knives, cut out the
flesh around. Deep gashes were cut near the wound hoping that the
poison would be carried away in the free flowing of the blood. They
applied poultices of herbs, which they had been told were available in
such cases. After much suffering, which the Indian bore with wonderful
stoicism, he recovered from the perilous wound.

Journeying on, day after day, they at length reached a broad river,
whose current was so rapid that they saw, at once, that it would be
very difficult to effect a passage. This was probably the Colorado,
many miles above the point where they had touched it in one of their
previous excursions. They made a raft. Most of the company were afraid
to attempt to cross upon it. La Salle, with his brother Cavalier and
one or two others, got on. A