s soon as they pushed out from the shore,
into the middle of the stream, the swiftly rushing torrent seized them,
whirled the raft around, and swept it down the stream with resistless
velocity. In a few moments it disappeared, as the foaming flood bore it
around a bend in the stream.

"It was a moment," writes Father Douay, "of extreme anguish for us all.
We despaired of ever again seeing our guardian angel the Chevalier de
la Salle." Several hours passed away. The men left upon the bank were
in utter bewilderment. They knew not what to do. "The day was spent,"
it is written, "in tears and weeping."

Just before nightfall, to their great joy, they saw La Salle and his
party on the opposite side of the river. It subsequently appeared that
the raft struck a large tree, which had been torn from the banks, and
was almost stationary in the middle of the stream; its roots, heavy
with earth and stone, dragging on the bottom. By seizing the branches
they dragged themselves out of the current, and by grasping the
branches of other trees, overhanging the water, they at length, through
a thousand perils, succeeded in gaining the eastern bank, several miles
below the point where they had constructed the raft. One of the men was
swept from the raft and swam ashore.

The party was now divided, with the foaming and apparently impassable
torrent rushing between them. On both sides the night was spent in
great anxiety. Many were the plans suggested and abandoned, to form a
reunion. In the morning, La Salle shouted to them across the river,
that they must build two light rafts, of the very buoyant canes, and
cross on them, promising them that he would send several strong
swimmers into the river to aid them.

One such raft was constructed. With fear and trembling five men
ventured upon it. The raft was so light that it barely supported its
burden. With long poles they succeeded in reaching the centre of the
stream. Then two men from the opposite side swam out, and by their aid,
with vigorous paddling, they safely reached the land, after drifting
far down the stream.

The most timid ones were left behind. They dared not venture the
passage. La Salle, seeing their hesitation, ordered his men to pack up
and continue their march, leaving them behind. The greater peril
overcame the less. To be abandoned there they deemed sure destruction.
They shouted across the river, begging for delay. Inspired by the
energies of almost despair, they v