The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1904-06-22
CHAPTER XVII.
THE DOOR OF THE WEST

THE DOOR OF THE WEST.
Nearly league farther. Du Mesne.
and the sun but an hour high. Come.
let us hasten!"
''Ycu are right. Monsieur Las" re-
piled the one addressed, as the first
speaker seated himself on the thwart
of the boat in whose bow he had been
standing. Bend to it. mes amis!"
John Law turned about on the seat,
gazing back over the length of the
little ship which had brought him and
his comrades thus far on the widest
journey he had ever undertaken. Six
paddlers there were for this great canot
du Nord. and steadily enough they sent
the thin-shelled craft along over the
curling blue waves of the great inland
sea. And now their voices in one ac-
cord fell into the cadences of an an
cient boat-song Of New France:
EN- roulant ma boule, roulant,
Roulant, rouler. ma houle roulant."
The ictus of the measure marked
time for the sweeping paddles, and
under the added, impetus the paper
she'll, reinforced as it was by close
laid splints of cedar, and braced by
the fiber-fastened thwarts, fairly
yielded to the rush of the waves as
tho stalwart paddlers sent it flying
forward. A tiny blur of white showed
about the bows, and now and then a
splash Of spray came inboard, or some
little curling white cap was divided
by the rush of the swiftly moving
prov.
I'VE shall not arrive too soon, my
friend" rejoined the captain of the
voyageurs, casting an eye back across
the great lake, which lay black and
ominous against threatening sky,
the sweep and swirl of it's white caps
ever racing hard after the frail craft,
as though eager to break through its
paper sides and tear away the human
beings who thus fed on so lightly.
This boat, mysteriously appearing as
though it were some spirit craft
called from the ancient deeps, was far
from the beginning of it's wild journey.
Wide as the eye might reach, there
arose no flecll of snowy canvas, MOI
showed the dark line of any similar
craft propelled by oar or paddle.
They were alone, these travellers. Be
fore them, at the entrance of the wide
arm of the great lake Michiganon, lay
the point even at that early day known
as the Door of the West, the beginning
OF the winding waterway which led
on into the interior of that West, then
so alluring and SO unknown. The
eyes of all were fixed on the low, white
fronted bluffs, crowned by dark for
est growth, which guarded the bay at
either hand. This spot, so wild, so
remote, so significant-it was home for
these yoyayeurs as much as any; as
much, too, for Law and the woman who
lay back, pale-faced and wild-eyed,
among the bales in the great canoe.
In time the graceful craft approached
the beach, on which the long waves
rolled and curled, now gently, now with
imposing force. With the water yet
half-leg deep, Du Mesne and two of
the paddlers sprang bodily overheard
and held the boat back from the peb-
bles, so that it's tender shell might not
be damaged. Law himself was as soon
as they in the water, and he waded
back along the gunwale until he
reached the stern, the water nearly up
to his hips. Reaching out his arms,
he picked up Mary Connynge from her
seat and carried her dryshod ashore,
bending down to catch some whispered
word. Not SO gallant was Du Mes1e,
the leader Of the voyageurs. He ut
tered few sharp words of semi-com-
mand to the Indian woman, who had
been seated on the floor of the canoe,
and she, without protest, crawled for
ward over the thwarts and the heaped
bundles until she reached the bow, aud
then went ankie deep into the Dreaming
flood. The great canoe, left empty and
anchored safe from the pebbles of the
beach, tossed light as cork on the
incoming waves.
A little open sppce was quickly
found at the edge of fhe cove in which
the Decentralization was made, and
here :Du Mesns and his followers soon