y on the
Illinois, a letter arrived from Tonty telling him of the mutiny of the
garrison and the wilful destruction of Fort Crevecoeur with all it
held. The calamitous news would have killed the spirit of any one less
courageous than La Salle; but the bold explorer, whose whole life was
a long grapple with adversity, prepared with all haste to return to
the rescue of Tonty, who, he hoped forlornly, had survived the
mutinous treachery. By the 10th of August he was ready, and with a new
outfit and twenty-five men he set out once more for the distant
Illinois.

[Footnote 13: Parkman, _La Salle and the Discovery of the Great West_,
chap. xiv.]

After three months of toil and hardship he came again to Fort
Crevecoeur. Anxiety for Tonty and his faithful companions had
consumed him all the way. Yet he was unprepared for the shocking sight
that met his eyes. The once populous town of the Illinois was now a
valley of dry bones; the bodies of women and children strewed the
plain, and the charred trophies of Illinois warriors hung tragically
upon blackened stakes. Such were the terrible marks of an Iroquois
visitation.

Wolves ran howling away as the Frenchmen drew near, and voracious
buzzards wheeled overhead. Anxiously La Salle sought among the
revolting remnants for any sign of Tonty; but none was to be found,
and although the relief expedition continued for weeks and months to
search for their missing comrades, it was spring before the explorer
heard with joy that his lieutenant had found refuge among the
Pottawattamies. Meanwhile, his resources for the Mississippi
expedition had been again dissipated, and once more he returned to
Fort Frontenac for fresh supplies.

Soon, for the third time, the persistent adventurer set his face
towards the west. His company now included twenty-three Frenchmen and
eighteen Indians, equipped with all the care his former experiences
could suggest. Summer had gone before his plans were completed; but
all seasons were alike to La Salle, and in the early autumn his
expedition began. Lake Huron was reached in October, Fort Miami a few
weeks later, and on the 6th of February their canoes glided out of the
Illinois into the eddying current of the Mississippi.

Down past the turbid Missouri they swept, and beyond the mouth of the
Ohio. Every day brought them newer signs of spring, and every day saw
the spirits of La Salle rising at the happy consciousness of fulfilled
ambition. On the 13th of