felled that dense forest, tree by tree, for miles and miles around, and
where it stood, rich fields rejoice the eye; the once silent waters of
the Great River below now surge against hundreds of stately ships;
commerce has enriched this spot, art adorned it; a memory of glory
endears it to every British heart. But the name QUEBEC[85] still remains
unchanged; as the savage first pronounced it to the white stranger, it
stands to-day among the proudest records of our country's story.

The chief Donnacona and the French continued in friendly intercourse,
day by day exchanging good offices and tokens of regard. But Jacques
Cartier was eager for further discoveries; the two Indian interpreters
told him that a city of much larger size than Stadacona lay further up
the river, the capital of a great country; it was called in the native
tongue Hochelaga; thither he resolved to find his way. The Indians
endeavored vainly to dissuade their dangerous guests from this
expedition; they represented the distance, the lateness of the season,
the danger of the great lakes and rapid currents; at length they had
recourse to a kind of masquerade or pantomime, to represent the perils
of the voyage, and the ferocity of the tribes inhabiting that distant
land. The interpreters earnestly strove to dissuade Jacques Cartier from
proceeding on his enterprise, and one of them refused to accompany him.
The brave Frenchman would not hearken to such dissuasions, and treated
with equal contempt the verbal and pantomimic warnings of the alleged
difficulties. As a precautionary measure to impress the savages with an
exalted idea of his power as a friend or foe, he caused twelve cannon
loaded with bullets to be fired in their presence against a wood; amazed
and terrified at the noise, and the effects of this discharge, they
fled, howling and shrieking, away.

Jacques Cartier sailed for Hochelaga on the 19th of September; he took
with him the Hermerillon, one of his smallest ships, the pinnace, and
two long-boats, bearing thirty-five armed men, with their provisions and
ammunition. The two larger vessels and their crews were left in the
harbor of St. Croix, protected by poles and stakes driven into the water
so as to form a barricade. The voyage presented few of the threatened
difficulties; the country on both sides of the Great River was rich and
varied, covered with stately timber, and abounding in vines. The natives
were every where friendly and hospita