it which met him
at every turn. A memorial which he presented in 1618 to the Chamber of
Commerce at Paris discloses his dream of what might be: a city at Quebec
named Ludovica, a city equal in size to St Denis and filled with noble
buildings grouped round the Church of the Redeemer. Tributary to this
capital was a vast region watered by the St Lawrence and abounding
'in rolling plains, beautiful forests, and rivers full of fish.' From
Ludovica the heathen were to be converted and a passage discovered to
the East. So important a trade route would be developed, that from the
tolls alone there would be revenue to construct great public works. Rich
mines and fat cornfields fill the background.

Such was the Quebec of Champlain's vision--if only France would see
it so! But in the Quebec of reality a few survivors saw the hunger of
winter yield to the starvation of spring. They lived on eels and roots
till June should bring the ships and food from home.

CHAPTER IV. CHAMPLAIN IN THE WILDERNESS

Champlain's journeyings with the Indians were the holiday of his life,
for at no other time was he so free to follow the bent of his genius.
First among the incentives which drew him to the wilderness was his
ambition to discover the pathway to China. In 1608 the St Lawrence had
not been explored beyond the Lachine Rapids, nor the Richelieu beyond
Chambly--while the Ottawa was known only by report. Beyond Lake St Louis
stretched a mysterious world, through the midst of which flowed
the Great River. For an explorer and a patriot the opportunity was
priceless. The acquisition of vast territory for the French crown, the
enlargement of the trade zone, the discovery of a route to Cathay,
the prospect of Arcadian joys and exciting adventures--beside such
promptings hardship and danger became negligible. And when exploring the
wilderness Champlain was in full command. Off the coast of Norumbega his
wishes, as geographer, had been subject to the special projects of De
Monts and Poutrincourt. At Fontainebleau he waited for weeks and months
in the antechambers of prelates or nobles. But when conducting an
expedition through the forest he was lord and master, a chieftain from
whose arquebus flew winged death.

The story of Champlain's expeditions along these great secluded
waterways, and across the portages of the forest, makes the most
agreeable page of his life both for writer and reader, since it is here
that he himself is most clearly