ned. He heard of the merchant's adventures with deep interest. La
Salle, a young man of good family, and of sufficient fortune, had
emigrated to Canada in search of fame, and with the further view of
increasing his pecuniary resources. He expected, like Cabot and some
others, to find a passage through Canada, by water, to China, imagining
that the Missouri emptied itself into the north Pacific. The narrative
of Jollyet made La Salle more sanguinely credulous, that he had the
"way" before him. First he gained the sanction of the governor to
explore the course of that river, and then he returned to France for
support in his enterprise. So plausible a story did he relate, that
means were soon forthcoming. The Prince of Conti most liberally entered
into La Salle's views, and assisted him to prepare an expedition. The
Chevalier de Tonti, an army officer, with one arm, joined him, and on
the 14th July, 1678, De La Salle, and De Tonti sailed for Quebec from
France, with thirty men. It was two months before they reached Quebec;
but no sooner did they arrive than they hastened to the great lakes,
accompanied by Father Hennepin. Father Hennepin was the historian of
the voyage. He tells a wonderfully interesting story. La Salle built a
vessel of 60 tons, and carrying 7 guns, above the Falls of Niagara,
having laid the keel in July, 1679. There are always difficulties
attending new enterprises, and La Salle's shipbuilding operations were
frequently and annoyingly interfered with. The carpenter was an
Italian, named Tuti, and he occupied seven months in building the
craft. One day, an Indian, pretending to be drunk, attempted to stab
the blacksmith, but that worthy son of Vulcan, like Bailie Nicol
Jarvie, successfully defended himself with a red hot bar of iron. Again
the savages tried to burn the ship, but were prevented by a woman. A
squaw gave La Salle's people warning of the Indian's intention. Alarms
were frequent, and only for Father Hennepin's exhortations,
shipbuilding would have been abandoned to a later period, on the lake.
But carpenter Tuti persevered, and amid enthusiastic cheering, the
chanting of a _Te Deum_, and the firing of guns, she was safely
launched. The "Cataraqui" was square rigged. She was a kind of
brigantine, not unlike a Dutch galliot of the present day, with a broad
elevated bow and a broad elevated stern. Very flat in the bottom, she
looked much larger than she really was, and when her "great" guns were