Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1916-08-15

but for a single yoyageur as COM
panion. passed us upon the river. And
when, at last, we made the long por-
tage, tramping through the dark for
est aisles, bearing on our shoulders
heavy loads, scarcely able to see the
sun even at midday through the leafy
screen of leaves, and came forth at
twilight on the shores of the mighty
lake, no words can express the rap
lures with which | stood and gaZed
across that eXpanse of heaving, rest
less water The men launched their
canoes upon the surface and made
camp in the edge of the forest, but
| could not move, could not restrain
nv eyes, until darkness descended and
left all before me void.
1t was scarcely more than daybreak
when we broke camp and headed our
canoes out into the lake. With the
dawn, and the CLINT of sunlight over
the waters, much of my dread depart
ed. and l could appreciate the wild
song Of delight with which our Indian
DCAl " lACh WIN. liz
sharp-prowed canoes swept through
the waters swiftly, no longer battling
against a current, and the shore line
ever in view was fascinating In its
green foliage. We kept close to the
northern shore, and soon found pas
sage amid numerous islands. forest
covered. but with high. rocky outlines.
For four days we coasted thus. never
out Of sight of shore, and usually with
islands between US and the main body
Of water. In all that time we had no
sign of man-not even a wisp of
smoke, nor heard the crack Of distant
rife. About US extended loneliness
and desolation, great waters never
tall, menacing rocks, bright-colored in
the sun.
As last we left the cbain of islands
behind. and one morning struck out
from the shore into the waste of wa
tiers, the prows OF the canoes turned
westward, the steersman guiding our
course by the sun. For several hours
we were beyond view of land. with
naught to rest the eye upon save the
gray sea, and then, when it was nearly
night, we reached the shore and
beached our canoes at st. Ignace.
So much had been said of st. Ignace,
and so long had the name been ia
miliar throughout New France, that
my first view of the place brought
me bitter disappointment.
The miserable little village was upon
a point of land, originally covered with
heavy growth of forest. A bit of this
had been rudely cut, the rotting
stumps still standing, and from the
timber a dozen rough log houses had
been constructed facing the lake. A
few rods back, on slightly higher land,
was a log chapel and a house, some
what more pretentious than the others,
in which the priests lodged. The whole
aspect of the place was peculiarly
desolate and depressing. facing that
vast waste of water. the black forest
shadows behind, and those rotting
stumps in the foreground.
Nor was our welcome one to make
the heart rejoice. Scarce dozen per-
sons gathered at the beach to aid us
in making landing, rough engages
mostly, and not among them all face
familiar 1t was only later, when
two priests from the mission came
hurrying forward, that we were greet
ed by cordial speech. These invited q
| few of us to become guests at the
mission house, and assigned the re
mainder of our party to vacant huts
Cassion, Chevet and Pere Allouez
accompanied me as l walked beside a
young priest up the beaten path, but
D'Artigny was left behind with the
men,. | overheard Cassion order him
to remain, but he added some word
in lower voice, which brought flush
of anger into the younger mans face
although he merely turned on his bee
without reply.
days. busily engaged in repairing oul
canoes and rendering them fit for the
long voyage yet before us. From this
point we were to venture on treacher
Gus waters, as yet scarcely explored
the shores inhabited by savage, IN
known tribes, with not a white mar
| in all the long distance from Greer
Bay to the Chicago portage. Once
got out the map and traced the dis
lance, feeling sick at heart as | thus
realized more clearly the weary jour
ney.
Those were dull. lonely days
, passed in the deSolate mission house
| while the others were busy at theil
various tasks. Only at night time, OIL
as they struggled in to their meals. die
| | see anyone but Pere Allouez, who
was always close at hand. a silent
shadow from whose presence could
not escape. l visited the priests gar
| den. climbed the rocks overlooking
| the water and even yentured into the
dark forest, but he was ever beside
me, suave but insistent on doing his
masters will. The only glimpse had
of D'Artigny was at a distance. fol
net once did he approach the mission
house. So I was glad enough wher
the canoes were ready, and all prep
arations made for departure.
Yet we were not destined to escape
thus easily from st. Ignace. OF what
occurred / must write as it happened
to me then, and not as its full signi
| ficance became later clear to my I'M
Outstanding. 1t was after nightfal
when Cassion returned to the mission
house. The lights were burning on
the table, and the three priests were
rather impatiently waiting their even
ing meal, oec Sionally exchanging
brief sentences, y. peering out through
the open window toward the DARK
water.
Cassion came in alone, yet | OBJ
served nothing strange about his ap
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