t we might enter the
encampment with pomp the next day. The swiftest Indians ran ahead to
warn the people of our coming." Embarking in boats, where the water
was open, the two explorers came to the Cree lodges. They were
welcomed with shouts. Messengers marched in front, scattering presents
from the white men,--kettles to call all to a feast of friendship;
knives to encourage the warriors to be brave; swords to signify that
the white men would fight all enemies of the Cree; and abundance of
trinkets--needles and awls and combs and tin mirrors--for the women.
The Indians prostrated themselves as slaves; and the explorers were
conducted to a grand council of welcome. A feast was held, followed by
a symbolic dance in celebration of the white men's presence.

Their entry to the Great Northwest had been a triumph: but they could
not escape the privations of the explorer's life. Winter set in with a
severity to make up for the long, late autumn. Snow fell continuously
till day and night were as one, the sombre forests muffled to silence
with the wild creatures driven for shelter to secret haunts. Four
hundred men had brought the explorers north. Allowing an average of
four to each family, there must have been sixteen hundred people in the
encampment of Crees. To prevent famine, the Crees scattered to the
winter hunting-grounds, arranging to come together again in two months
at a northern rendezvous. When Radisson and Groseillers came to the
rendezvous, they learned that the gathering hunters had had poor luck.
Food was short. To make matters worse, heavy rains were followed by
sharp frost. The snow became iced over, destroying rabbit and grouse,
which feed the large game. Radisson noticed that the Indians often
snatched food from the hands of hungry children. More starving Crees
continued to come into camp. Soon the husbands were taking the wives'
share of food, and the women were subsisting on dried pelts. The Crees
became too weak to carry their snow-shoes, or to gather wood for fire.
The cries of the dying broke the deathly stillness of the winter
forest; and the strong began to dog the footsteps of the weak. "Good
God, have mercy on these innocent people," writes Radisson; "have mercy
on us who acknowledge Thee!" Digging through the snow with their
rackets, some of the Crees got roots to eat. Others tore the bark from
trees and made a kind of soup that kept them alive. Two weeks after
the famine set i